Chapter 30: Conceal
Chapter 30: Conceal
[System // Notification]
[Level Up // 8 → 9]
[Str +1 // Agi +1 // Wil +1 // SM +1 // AP +3]
'Broken system, thinks it's so smart...'
He watched the panel flicker erratically, eyes tracking the numbers as Butcher's Wrath pulled back into his arms. The flesh sealed over with a wet rip, leaving behind only a dull ache.
It didn't take long for disappointment to settled in. For the first time. No new skill, no system message promising something special. Just the usual stats, soulmass, and points.
"That's it?"
[Affirmative.]
He squinted at the glitchy text, tail flicking against the dirt before finally letting out a slow breath. Complaining wouldn't change it.
Around him, the undead were sinking into the ash, the ground turning slick with rotted fluids. He idly chewed on the tip of his tail, mind turning over his options.
'Strength and agility are both E-Rank. Everything else is still F.'
It would be easy to focus on what was already strong. But that felt wrong. Short-sighted. So he dumped all three points into Vitality, better to raise what was low before pushing anything higher. Balance before greed.
He watched the numbers shift on the screen. Pride wasn't something he felt often, but looking at his profile now? He couldn't deny it. He'd earned this. He wasn't invincible. He knew that. But he wasn't the thing that had crawled in the dark, starving and mindless, either.
[Basic User Profile]
[User Name // Unknown]
[User True-Name // Unknown]
[Entity // Imp]
[Class // None]
[Status // Unrecognized]
[Rank // Unranked]
[Flag // Anomalous Host Detected]
[Titles]
[Kinslayer]
[Level // 9]
[Exp // 958/1384]
[HP // 100/100]
[SM // 16/16]
[ATTRIBUTES]
[STR // 14->15 // E]
[VIT // 7->10 // F]
[AGI // 17->18 // E]
[INT // 4 // F]
[FLH // 3 // F]
[WIL // 5->6 // F]
[AP // 3->0]
[Soul Integrity // 48.2%->49.2%]
[DEFENSE]
[Natural // None]
[RESISTANCE]
[Fire // 100%]
[Hellfire // 10%]
[WEAKNESS]
[Exposure to light]
[RACIAL TRAITS]
[Heat Resistance // A]
[Dark Vision // S]
[Wall Crawler // C]
[Stealth Movement // C]
[MUTATIONS]
[Slot 1 // Twinback Growth]
[NATURAL WEAPONS]
[Claws // F]
[Teeth // E]
[Tail // F]
[ACTIVE SKILLS]
[Rend // E]
[Desecration // S+]
[Rotflow // F]
[PASSIVE SKILLS]
[Demonic Will / F]
[RACIAL ABILITIES]
[Savage Feed // F]
[Minor Shifting // F // Rare]
[??????? // F // Rare]
[CURSE]
[Hellfire // F]
[Fiendskin // F]
[DIRECTIVES]
[FEED // Active]
[KILL // Pending]
[SURVIVE // Normal // 102 Days]
One thing still burned in his vision, bright as flame. That locked Racial Ability. No clue how to unlock it. Maybe it would change once he evolved. He could only hope.
He dismissed the panel with a flick, turning back toward the fortress. His gaze drifted to the UI, watching the countdown tick lower.
[15:29]
Time was getting away from him. Part of him thought it was too close, another wished it would just come already. He still didn't have a plan. No answer for how to slip past that A-Rank monster.
He paced. Teeth ground. Claws drummed against his arm. Nothing.
"Maybe I should've put those points into intelligence."
He let out a dry laugh, dragging claws across his face. Then he froze. His foot sank into something wet. Looking down, he saw the puddle of sludge, one of the imps he'd killed.
He tilted his head. Knelt. Dipped a finger in and sniffed. Against all sense, he stuck it in his mouth.
"Glech! Why'd I do that?! Stupid—!"
He cut off mid-rant. Mouth open, tongue dangling, greenish slime dripping. He watched as a bubble popped on the surface of the goo. An idea began to take shape. Ugly. Stupid. But maybe something.
He grimaced. He'd have to test it first. It would hurt. Probably fail. But it was all he had.
"System, what would happen if I removed one of those soul stones after the portal opens, would it close?"
A pause. Then the answer came.
[Possible. Three scenarios equally likely. One: removal collapses the spell and closes the portal. Two: portal remains open but with diminished strength, preventing the A-Rank demon from passing through. Three: catastrophic backlash, likely incinerating the fortress and surrounding area.]
He rocked back on his heels, letting it sink in.
Then he smiled. Sharp. Mean.
"Good enough."
He spat out the last of the sludge. His face twisted in distaste as he eyed the pile. Without further thought he dropped into it, rolling and flailing until every inch of him was coated. Steam curled off his skin. He finally stopped, drawing a slow breath.
"This better work."
He didn't waste time. He sprinted back toward the fortress. The shuffling shapes he needed came into view...a group of flayed imps dragging themselves forward.
He took a deep breath. Exhaled hard.
"This is gonna hurt."
Rrriiipp!
[-9HP]
[HP // 91/100]
Blood splattered across the ground. He held the large strip of his own skin in one hand, teeth bared, jaw shaking with the effort not to scream.
The plan was simple. Pretend to be one of them. Smell like them. Look like them. He stood there, chest heaving, a ragged strip of his own skin hanging in his grip. His wound ran from shoulder to waist, wet and red. Perfect.
He slapped his torn flesh over his face and held it there a moment until it stuck.
"If this doesn't work, I'm dumping everything into intelligence."
He took one last breath and began.
Tail limp, one arm tucked behind him. The other dangling awkwardly. Feet twisted in, back hunched, he forced himself into that slow, twitching shuffle.
[User appears convincing. Warning: Potential infection risk.]
He glanced down. The sludge and blood were mixing in the open wound. It fizzed and bubbled. Infection wasn't just possible, it was guaranteed.
'I'll need to feed after this.'
He kept moving, slow and jerky. The group of flayed imps came into view, closer and closer. Their movements were broken. Twisted. He tried to match every stagger.
His heart thumped. Loud, and heavy.
'If this doesn't work, my only chance is Rotflow. But I'd have to get my health below ten percent to use it.'
He pushed the thought aside. Taking that much damage, in this type of situation, wasn't something he wanted to think about...unless he had to.
Eyes locked on the nearest imp, he scanned for any flicker of awareness. Every nerve in him burned. Every instinct told him to attack. But he waited, and held his breath.
And watched.
'...Nothing.'
They didn't react at all. Not one turned his way as he dragged himself through the group.
'Good. Just have to hope that warlord doesn't notice. Stay low, hidden. Wait for an opening. Grab a stone, jump through. As long as the portal stays open he can't follow.'
He let drool drip freely from his mouth, playing the part.
'And I'll get a soul stone.'
He noticed he'd drifted a bit from the group. With fifteen hours still to go, he kept his pace slow. Shambling closer to the fortress walls, he forced himself to get used to the weight in the air. That oppressive, choking aura. Another part of the plan. Better to feel it now. To learn how to breathe under it.
It took him the better part of an hour to creep close enough. Close enough to feel the screams. Impaled imps lined the walls, wailing and twitching.
'System, how are they still alive?'
[It would appear the spikes impaling them are covered in demonic script. High probability of being a mechanism designed to keep subject alive until needed.]
The word needed sent a flash of that demon's patchwork skin through his mind. Torn. Ragged. Stitched. Made sense. Even imp skin wouldn't last forever.
He locked eyes with one of them. It shrieked.
Too fast to see, his claw flicked out, severing its leg. He scooped it up as if he'd stumbled. Bit in hard.
[Feed // Active]
[+1HP/5 sec]
[+1HP]
[HP // 92/100]
The infection burned, but the healing burned hotter. Flesh knitted. The fizzing stopped. He scanned for watchers, then dropped to all fours and sprinted into the dark.
'Now I just have to wait. Once there's only a few hours left, I'll break in.'
He chewed on a chunk of hard cartilage as he ran, thoughts circling. Was the plan even good? Would the demon see through it? And if the spell backfired—
What would it feel like to get blown to pieces?
Either way, he'd know soon enough.