The voice from the coffin was a physical blight. Ancient. Dry. Saturated with a malice that made the air crystallize with dread. The temperature plummeted.
The glowing moss on the walls flickered and died. The room was plunged into an oppressive gloom.
The rest of the raid party recoiled. Their hard-won confidence shattered like glass. Gareth raised his shield. The twin mages began to frantically chant. Sofia's expression, for the first time, was not one of cool, analytical curiosity. But of genuine, stark alarm.
The presence from that stone box was a weight. A pressure. An aura of ancient, intelligent evil. This was not a mindless beast. Not a collection of skeletal puppets. This was a true master of the undead.
But the most terrifying part was not the power. It was the words.
A soul-eater. One of my own kind.
Every head snapped towards Edward.
He stood his ground. His hand rested on the hilt of his dagger. His expression was unreadable. But inside, his mind was a maelstrom. The creature had recognized him. Not as a warrior. Not as a human. But as a fellow predator.
The careful, calculated performance he had just given was rendered meaningless. The one witness he couldn't fool had just taken the stage.
The heavy stone lid slid completely off. It crashed to the floor with a deafening boom. The figure within rose.
A Lich. A being of pure, unadulterated undeath. From the darkest legends. Its bones were the color of polished ebony. Etched with glowing, purple runes of immense power.
It wore the tattered robes of a king. Its eye sockets burned with two points of intelligent, malevolent blue fire.
And those eyes were fixed, with a singular focus, directly on Edward.
The Lich completely ignored the other four members of the party. It viewed them as furniture. Irrelevant specks of dust. Gareth, Sofia, the mages—they did not exist. There were only two beings of consequence in this chamber. The ancient power, and the new one.
"A fledgling," the Lich rasped. Its voice was a dry rustle of bone and dust. It floated from its coffin. It began to drift slowly towards Edward. "So young. So full of raw, untamed hunger. Who is your master, little one? Who loosed you upon this world?"
Edward remained silent. His hand gripped the hilt of the Shadowfang Dagger. He could feel the whispers from his blade. A frantic, hissing chorus of warning. And a strange, eager thirst.
"No matter," the Lich continued. Its voice dripped with a condescending, ancient amusement. "A piece of your power will make a fine wine."
It raised a single, skeletal hand. It pointed a long, bony finger at Edward.
A stream of sickly, grey-green energy shot from its fingertip. Silent and deadly.
Sofia shouted a warning. It was too late. The bolt struck Edward square in the chest.
But he didn't cry out. He didn't collapse. He gritted his teeth. A low growl escaped his lips. His teammates watched in horror. The grey-green energy didn't dissipate. It seemed to… sink into him. Absorbed into his very being.
This was a battle he couldn't fight with a dagger. The Lich wasn't attacking his body. It was attacking his soul. Against that assault, his only defense was his own monstrous nature. He was forced to activate Soul Assimilation. Not as an attack. As a desperate, defensive shield.
The fight became a silent, invisible war of wills. A private duel his teammates could only watch with uncomprehending terror.
The Lich, its blue-fire eyes widening in surprise, unleashed another, more powerful wave. Edward stood his ground. His body was a conduit. A vortex that absorbed the unholy energy. The strain made the veins on his neck and temples stand out.
"You are stronger than you look, fledgling," the Lich hissed. A note of frustration in its dry voice. It began to float faster. Its skeletal hands glowed with a more intense power. "But you are still just a child playing with forces you cannot comprehend!"
It launched a third, massive wave of soul-withering energy. As Edward absorbed it, he felt the Lich's own arrogant, ancient mind brush against his.
A tactical error on the Lich's part. It let slip a thought. A fragment of forbidden knowledge. A cryptic warning that planted a seed of world-shattering doubt.
"The Core will consume us all, little fledgling. It starves… it always starves."
The Core. The Hades Core. The system. The Lich spoke of it not as a god. But as a predator. A hungry, starving entity. The dungeons weren't a test. The classes weren't a gift. The entire system was a lie. This single, terrifying thought re-contextualized everything.
This revelation fueled Edward with a new, cold fury. He was not just a cursed anomaly. He was a slave to a cosmic parasite. And he was done being food.
He stopped just absorbing. He began to pull.
He let the monster within him off its leash. His Soul Assimilation ability flared from a defensive shield into an offensive, ravenous vortex. He wasn't just weathering the storm. He was inhaling it. He began to actively drain the Lich's own power. Reversing the flow of battle.
The Lich let out a shocked, strangled cry. A sound of pure, disbelieving horror. It tried to sever the connection. But it was too late.
Edward had latched onto its very essence. His young, raw, desperate hunger was more powerful than the Lich's ancient, complacent strength.
"Impossible!" the Lich shrieked. Its skeletal form began to flicker. Its power was being siphoned away. "You are no fledgling! What are you?!"
Edward didn't answer. He took a step forward. And then another. His eyes now glowed with the same cold, predatory light they had in the arena. The hunter had become the hunted.
He reached the Lich. His hand was outstretched. He plunged his fingers into the swirling, chaotic mass of the Lich's spiritual energy. And with a final, definitive act of predatory dominance, he devoured its ancient, knowledgeable, and utterly terrified soul.
The assimilation was an explosion.
A visible shockwave of pure, black energy erupted from his body. A silent, concussive blast. It slammed into his four teammates. Knocking them from their feet. Rendering them instantly unconscious.
The power that flooded into him was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Not just the raw, primal instinct of a beast. A torrent of a thousand years of memories. Arcane knowledge. Forbidden histories.
A deep, cynical, and ancient intelligence. His mind fractured under the strain. Thousands of fragmented images screaming through his consciousness. He saw the rise and fall of empires. The birth of magical theories. The cold, terrifying truth of the Hades Core's great, cosmic lie.
He fell to his knees. He clutched his head. A silent scream was trapped in his throat. He fought to keep his own identity from being washed away.
When his teammates finally stirred, the black energy had dissipated. The chamber was still and silent. Edward was standing over the Lich's empty robes. His back to them. His shoulders trembled slightly.
Sofia was the first to get to her feet. She looked at the empty robes. Then at Edward's back. The air around him felt different. Heavier. Charged with an ancient, terrifying power.
"Edward…?" she began. Her voice was hesitant.
He turned slowly to face them. His eyes were no longer glowing. But they held a new, chilling depth. A look of ancient, weary knowledge that no boy his age should possess.
Sofia's breath caught in her throat. She had seen him as a puzzle. An anomaly. A ridiculously skilled assassin. But now, she finally saw the truth. A truth far more terrifying and profound than she could have ever imagined.
"That wasn't a skill," she whispered. Her voice was filled with a new, dawning horror. And a strange, reluctant awe. "That was… consumption."