Chapter 07: The Burden of a Soul
Upon the pristine snow of the glacial shore stood the silhouette of a young woman, stained with blood, like a phantom amidst the mist. Her surroundings resembled a battlefield littered with the corpses of dead creatures. Yet, the perpetrator of this slaughter was a single individual. Her golden-yellow eyes shone with an unbreakable vow of purpose, while her ice-white hair, flowing in the wind, momentarily concealed and then revealed the sharp contours of her face. She held the massive claymore in her hand as if it were a feather—a silent testament to a supremacy that would incinerate and annihilate anything that approached.
She shifted slightly. The air split beneath her hand, revealing a void that bent light and space—a dimensional pocket. She reached inside and withdrew an old, leather map. As she unfolded it and traced the markings with her fingers, the snowflakes on her alabaster skin intensified into a storm. She fixed her gaze northeast with ruthless precision. She summoned the dimensional pocket once more, tossed the map back into the void, and continued her stride, each step leaving a deep, ancient imprint in the ice.
---
Touya's lungs struggled to draw in the air, reeking of dust and death. He should have been dead minutes ago. He had lost consciousness; he had no idea how much time had passed. Before him, he watched the mountain troll's stubborn blood flow, now reduced to its final spurts. Within him, a primal joy bloomed like a venomous flower.
A grin, wide and mad enough to split his cracked lips, spread across his face. "What happened to you, huh?" he snarled, his voice echoing off the shattered rocks. "Thought you were strong? Thought you'd crush me?"
With great effort, he lifted his head and looked up. The cave ceiling was fractured with deep cracks; the slightest tremor would bury everything. Every breath he took filled his lungs with dust and blood, the taste of rotten stone and mold clinging to his tongue like a stain. The heat was unbearable; the blood mixed with sweat trickling from his forehead stung his eyes. Yet, he was supposed to die. The mountain troll stared at him vacantly with its single eye, as if waiting to make one final move to devour him.
Then, he noticed the strange thing.
'How am I alive?' His mind was foggy, but he began to take stock of his body. 'The hole in my abdomen... gone. My left eye sees. My arms... intact.' Beneath the caked frozen blood and dirt, his muscles were taut and solid. He felt... not just alive, but strong. This feeling overshadowed even his fear.
Slowly, he tried to understand. 'Did I attain Awareness? Did I do something forbidden? No, it can't be...' 'I'm sure I didn't inherit some ancient legacy. My family was eating mud in the slums. My father...' He cut the thought short. Even thinking about his father was painful.
Then, those voices came back to him. That ancient, chilling voice. 'Who is this God of Freedom? Why did I inherit his legacy?'
"Hey, troll," he whispered, his voice dry and cracked. "Neither of us is getting out of here. They called me 'The Fear of Darkness.' Did you hear that? The Fear of Darkness."
He was losing his mind. Knowing he would die, torn forever from that simple, warm dream, was driving him insane. That's why he was talking to a creature. But the impossible happened.
The moment the troll heard the name, it froze. Its vacant eyes instantly filled with a primal, animalistic terror. Its face contorted, as if an invisible hand were pushing it back. It began to thrash against the tons of rock weighing it down. The crunching of its bones echoed through the cave. At the cost of breaking, shattering its ribs, it wanted to free itself and get away from Touya. The mountain troll had surrendered completely to its instincts, its mind shattered.
Touya stood up. As the cave shook, he searched for shelter.
He found none.
The troll finally managed to free one hand. Its bloody, skinned fingers, muscles exposed, clamped onto Touya's side. Touya felt his organs being squeezed, on the verge of bursting. The pain was searing his brain. But Touya was touching it too. His hands were gripping the troll's arm.
And then it happened.
For a moment—just a heartbeat—Touya felt the troll's soul. Something as ancient and powerful as a mountain, yet also childish and fragile. The troll's madness was gnawing at its own mind, rotting its soul. Touya felt this corruption seeping into the edges of his own consciousness. A foreign rage, a fear, a pleasure...
And then came the laughter.
A guttural, insane laughter echoed through the cave.
But not from the troll's mouth.
It was pouring from Touya's own lips.
Touya gripped the fleshy vise holding him with both hands. His muscles suddenly tightened, his tendons strained. With a mad grin, he felt the power in the troll's muscles—that massive, primal force—and seemed to draw it into himself, as if stealing it. His body felt stronger, more flexible, more feral. As dust and smoke burned his lungs, he began to pry the troll's fingers off, one by one. Bones cracked.
As the troll thrashed, the cave shook more violently, the heat becoming unbearable. With one final heave, Touya freed himself from that bloody cage and shoved the troll away. He was free.
But it was too late. The cave's collapse accelerated.
Touya acted on instinct. He raised the troll's shattered skull like a shield above him and threw himself towards the cave's exit. Rocks pounded his shoulders and back, but that piece of skull protected him. Light! Through the cloud of dust, he saw a pale light. With a final, desperate lunge, he propelled himself forward.
The cold, hard snow hit his face. Behind him, a massive roar and an even larger dust cloud erupted. The cave entrance was completely sealed.
Touya lay on his back, staring at the artificial stars in the sky, his chest heaving rapidly. He was alive.
---
Touya lay there for perhaps an hour. Every part of his body ached, but his wounds weren't fatal. He was covered in dried blood, dirt, and the organic remains of the troll. His mind struggled to process what had happened in the cave. That laughter... that power... was it his, or something else?
He struggled to his feet. The cave entrance had become a pile of rubble. Looking inside, his heart sank. There, in that darkness, something had happened that transformed him into something new. On the horizon, he saw the smoldering wreckage of the caravan and began staggering towards it. He was hungry and thirsty.
His walk led him down into a valley. Suddenly, a pack of wolves appeared before him. Three adults, hungry, teeth bared. Their fur was matted, ribs prominent. In the past, such an encounter would have meant certain death.
Touya's heart began to pound wildly. He froze. The wolves sniffed the air, growling. They slowly began to circle him, surrounding him. Touya, with nothing in his hands, stepped backward. His foot caught on a stone, and he fell to the ground.
Panic seized his mind. "No! Stay back!" he shouted, his voice fractured and cowardly.
The largest wolf took another step closer, its saliva wetting the snow.
In desperation, the name came to his mind. He had no other choice. He called upon that foreign, dark thing within him. The words tumbled from his mouth, less than a confident roar, more like a desperate scream: "I... I am The Fear of Darkness!"
The voice echoed through the valley.
The wolves instantly froze. Their ears perked up, they raised their snouts and growled. But this wasn't a growl for attack. This was an instinctual warning, the sound of a deeply ingrained fear. They looked at Touya but could not take another step closer. They didn't understand him, but they recognized him. A dangerous, tainted, inedible prey.
In astonishment and still-present fear, Touya slowly rose to his feet. The wolves continued to growl but did not retreat. They looked at him with a mixture of respect and fear, keeping their distance as if he were not prey, but a dangerous predator.
Touya slipped through them, staggering away. He felt their gaze on his back. His name held power. But this power was not a sword; it was a curse. Something that repelled even animals, isolating him. This thought settled in his stomach like a stone.
When he reached the wreckage site, the scene was pitiful. Death was everywhere. He knelt beside the corpse of a soldier. His stomach turned, but his hunger was stronger. He found a hard cracker and a half-full waterskin in the soldier's pocket. As he ate the cracker and sipped the water, the feeling wasn't guilt, but a complex, bitter satisfaction. In defiance of everyone who had oppressed and scorned him all his life—the hunger, the cold, this damned world—he was surviving and filling his belly where they had died. It was a dirty victory.
In the distance, atop a hill, he saw Viera's soldiers standing guard. He began walking towards them. Only one thought was on his mind: Lanert. What had happened to him?
Just then, two soldiers stepped out, slammed him to the ground, and his world went dark.
He came to at the sound of Viera's voice. "Ah! You're alive! My apologies for throwing you. A titan I needed to kill was about to land right on us. Your death was certain. I had to take a gamble. Normally, I wouldn't care. After all, you're nothing but a slave. But your survival... it pleases me. It's a favor to my sweet beauty."
"I suppose one of that titan's spawn attacked this caravan. A pity. I wanted to learn its purpose."
Touya could barely process Viera's words. His eyes were fixed on Lanert, being crushed beneath the soldiers. He tried to sit up hurriedly. "Him, his name is Lanert! We were together! We were trying to escape!"
A shadow passed over Viera's beautiful face. Her expression changed instantly, a glacial coldness sweeping over her features. "Honorable Sir Slave," she said, her voice taking on a sharp, mocking tone. "Why are you aligned with a child of the Cathedral? Or are you, perhaps, a Cathedral slave yourself?"
"No! Wait, what is he— Let me go!"
Viera, with her deadly beauty, spread a cruel smile across her face. "You are ignorant, aren't you? It's forgivable. You are far from wisdom, Honorable Sir Slave."