Chapter 53 – The Maggot Kings

Rin had never felt the weight of his death domain as he did now. The realm, once a quiet land of forgotten souls, had shifted into something darker, more dangerous. The sky was now a twisted shade of red, as though the very air was bleeding. The land stretched endlessly, cracked like the surface of a long-dead corpse, and amidst the decay, there rose the city — a place that seemed to pulse with hunger.

The city was unlike any that Rin had ever encountered, not in the Mortal Realm nor in the domains of the dead. It was not built of stone or wood, but of something more sinister. Its walls, if they could even be called that, were constructed of writhing masses of flesh, bound together by something ancient and foul. The air was thick with the smell of rot, and everywhere, the ground squelched underfoot as though it were alive, breathing with each step. It was a parasitic city, one that thrived on the memories of those who passed through it.

At the center of the city stood a towering structure, shaped like a giant cocoon, pulsating with a grotesque, living energy. This was where the Maggot Kings dwelled — bloated, bloated beings that were neither alive nor dead, but something between, existing only to feed on the memories of those who entered their domain. They were parasites of death, drawn to unstable truths, to guilt, to the repressed emotions that clung to souls in their final moments.

Rin had been drawn to this place by the very pulse of the city. He could feel it, a gnawing presence in his mind, pulling him toward the center, toward the Maggot Kings.

He walked through the streets, feeling the weight of their hungry gazes upon him. The creatures, half-formed, twisted beings, were drawn to him as he passed. They were creatures born of memories lost, beings that thrived on the anguish and regret that clung to the soul like a parasite. They were drawn to Rin, sensing the vibrant regrets that still flickered in his mind — the moments of hesitation, the memories of lost opportunity, the guilt that had followed him from the Mortal Realm and into this domain.

Rin knew they saw him as prey.

The Maggot Kings were the rulers of this city, bloated monstrosities that fed on the fading memories of those who wandered into their grasp. They had no need for names, for they consumed memories faster than they could be born. They lived in the void between worlds, parasites that thrived on instability, on the weaknesses of the soul. And now, they saw Rin — a being full of vibrant regrets, a soul full of unstable truths.

Rin had no intention of being their prey.

A shudder ran through him as he felt the presence of the Maggot Kings drawing near. He could feel the air growing thick, the weight of their intentions pressing down upon him. Their forms emerged from the shadows, grotesque beings with bloated bodies, their skin stretched thin, mottled with patches of rotting flesh. They were crowned with remnants of forgotten names — words that had been torn from the fabric of reality and stitched into their forms, like weaponized symbols of death.

"You are full of regret," one of the Kings hissed, its voice like the rasping of dead leaves in the wind. "Full of fear. You have come to us to die."

Rin clenched his fists, his heart pounding in his chest. The words of the Maggot King struck deep. He could feel his regrets, his guilt, rising like bile in his throat. But he would not let them control him. He had faced these demons before — not in the form of bloated, parasitic creatures, but in the dark recesses of his own mind.

"No," Rin said, his voice low and cold. "I have come to kill."

The Maggot Kings laughed, their voices like the clattering of bones in a forgotten grave. "Then come, little one. Let us taste your memories. Let us consume your regret and see if you can still fight after we have feasted on your soul."

With a sudden, horrifying movement, the Maggot Kings drew their weapons. They were not blades, not swords or axes, but jagged remnants of names — forgotten words, once tied to lives long past, now twisted into deadly shapes. They were forged from the very memories they consumed, twisted into weapons of death. The weapons hummed with a dark energy, as if the names themselves carried the weight of the forgotten.

Rin's mind raced. He could feel the pull of the weapons, the weight of the names drawing at his very soul. But he had learned something in the time since he had unlocked his domain — he was no longer the man who could be crushed by his own regrets.

With a sharp breath, Rin reached deep into the core of his being, into the very heart of his Death Core. His power surged, not from the desire to destroy, but from the need to recognize and embrace. He would not be a victim of his own regrets. He would wield them.

He closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on the memories that had haunted him for so long. The fear of abandonment, the moment when he had hesitated to save his sect from betrayal, the doubts that had followed him when he could have prevented the massacre but chose not to act. These regrets, these memories, these truths — they were his, and they would not control him.

"I will burn them," Rin whispered to himself.

He opened his eyes, and the air around him rippled with dark energy. The first of the Maggot Kings lunged at him, its name-forged weapon raised high. Rin did not move. Instead, he pulled the memory to the surface of his mind — the moment of hesitation, when he could have warned his sect, but feared the consequences. He focused on it, the raw emotion of that moment, and then, with a violent surge of energy, he burned it.

A white-hot fire erupted within him, consuming the memory. The regret that had clung to his soul was reduced to ash, its weight lifting from him. But the fire did not burn him. Instead, it fueled his power, transforming the regret into a weapon of destruction.

The Maggot King's weapon slammed down toward him, but Rin moved with the speed of a ghost. He was no longer a victim of his own guilt. He was the one who wielded it.

Rin's fist shot forward, blazing with the fire of his burned memory, and he struck the Maggot King square in the chest. The force of the blow shattered the creature's bloated form, its name-forged weapon falling to the ground in pieces, the remnants of forgotten words crumbling to dust.

The other Maggot Kings screeched in fury and fear, their forms twisting as they brought their own weapons to bear. But Rin was ready. He called upon another memory — the guilt he had carried for abandoning those who had once trusted him. He burned it, allowing the flames to fuel his power once again.

This time, as he struck, the very air around him seemed to ignite. The next King fell to the ground, its grotesque form writhing in agony as the fire consumed it from the inside out.

Rin's heart pounded in his chest as he turned toward the remaining Kings. They were not giving up. They were relentless, driven by their insatiable hunger. But Rin could feel it now — the power coursing through him, the power of his regrets, now turned into fuel for his will.

With each memory he burned, each regret he embraced, Rin grew stronger. He was no longer a man bound by guilt. He was a being who had mastered his own emotional death, who had learned to burn the past without losing himself in it.

The final Maggot King roared, its form bloated beyond recognition, its weapon forged from the deepest, most forgotten names. It swung its weapon toward him, but Rin was already there.

"I have no fear of you," Rin whispered, his voice cold as ice.

And with a final, devastating blow, he struck. The King's body exploded into a cloud of black ichor and forgotten names, its remnants scattering into the wind like dust.

The city fell silent.

Rin stood amidst the ruins of the Maggot Kings, their parasitic forms nothing more than broken husks now, the remnants of their weapons strewn around him like forgotten relics. The air was thick with the smell of death, but there was no fear, no regret. Rin had burned it all away.

The city, once a place of parasitic hunger, began to change. The walls, once writhing with the hunger of the Maggot Kings, began to shift and grow. The land, once cracked and barren, began to heal, the decay receding in the wake of Rin's conquest. He had not simply defeated the Maggot Kings. He had claimed the city as his own.

He raised his hand, and the city responded, reshaping itself into something new, something that reflected his own power — a Sanctum of Remembered Deaths. Here, the lost souls would find purpose. Here, the forgotten would be acknowledged. And here, Rin would reign, not as a king of destruction, but as the master of recognition, of remembrance.

As the city transformed around him, Rin smiled, not with triumph, but with understanding. He had learned that true power was not in the burning away of the past, but in the recognition of what had been lost.

And with that, Rin knew: his path was only just beginning.

To be continued…