The 8th Floor

Contrary to his expectations, Aito had absorbed five bags of soul cores out of the ten bags at his disposal using his new skill. Amongst them were mostly level 1 souls and a few level 2 souls. Logical considering some berserkers had been harder to deal with than others.

Now he felt stuffed. Aito knew he could absorb more, but storing that energy was another matter altogether. There was something blocking him, like an invisible wall barring entry to his mana well. 

He had previously thought there would be a limit to how much he could take in, but he hadn't expected it to be such a deep pit. Two full bags were already a lot, even if most of them were level 1. 

But 5 bags? Belmand shit! Apparently, something kept using the digested souls as fuel.

Of course, it was his injured soul core.

Soul power, mana, and soul essence kept being used to repair the injuries his soul core had endured because of his forced creation of a 2nd auxiliary core.