I stamred while speaking further, my mind racing with countless possible questions. Was this man Ness himself, or Skin, or maybe both? But they were the sa, right? Should I run? Could I even do that? Every fiber of my being scread at to flee, yet sothing rooted to the spot, an invisible force of dread and intrigue intertwining, keeping locked in place.
Perhaps he saw my flustered appearance, because he chuckled lightly, his tone tinged with amusent and mockery. "Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. I can control my corruption."
I was skeptical. How could he? And more importantly, what exactly was corruption? As such, I asked the burning question, my voice low but firm. "What exactly is corruption?"
He nodded his head as if he had been expecting that very question. "Corruption, in simpler terms, is knowledge."
Intrigued, I pressed further. "aning?"
Leaning back on his chair, he seed to be brooding over sothing before he finally spoke, his voice dark and heavy. "It’s like knowing or imagining existence beyond nothingness or bypassing the shimring mbrane of realms. It is taboo, forbidden knowledge."
I nodded, slowly digesting his words, though they left a bitter taste in my mouth.
He continued, his tone laced with sothing akin to reverence. "If you stumble upon such knowledge, if you pry where you shouldn’t, you gain the forbidden wisdom. And that—that is what corrupts you. Corruption is the defiance of us lesser beings against the laws of the cosmos, the higher powers."
I tapped my fingers against the side of my chair, thinking, contemplating, trying to piece together the fragnted puzzle he was laying before .
I t his gaze, his eerie, knowing gaze, and asked, "What exactly happens to a corrupted being?"
He chuckled, a lighthearted sound that felt out of place given the gravity of our discussion. "It depends on how exactly you acquired that knowledge. The corruption will manifest according to your defiance, your transgression against the natural order."
A shiver crawled down my spine as he sighed before adding, "But one thing is the sa for every corrupted soul. They suffer. Not just ordinary pain, but unrelenting, excruciating tornt, ceaseless and rciless. Until they find a way to lessen the agony."
An uneasy silence settled between us, the weight of his words pressing against like a suffocating fog. My mind raced. If corruption ant suffering, if it brought ceaseless pain, then what was his antidote? What kept him from breaking apart?
My voice was steady but slightly faltering as I asked, "What is your antidote?"
His smile didn’t waver. If anything, it grew wider, more unsettling. "Serving Lord Skin. Increasing his influence on the living world."
My breath hitched.
Increasing his influence? That was just another way of saying awakening that eldritch horror, wasn’t it? Bringing forth sothing that should never walk among the living.
I stamred before asking, "How exactly do you increase his influence?"
His expression remained unreadable. "You already know."
I did. I didn’t want to, but I did.
We both spoke in unison.
"Sacrifice."
My throat felt dry, my skin clammy. My fingers curled against my palm to keep myself grounded, to stop the rising panic that threatened to consu . "Then what do you want to do?"
He waved his hand dismissively. "You can’t do anything in your current state. This town is filled with horrors beyond the comprehension of mortal minds—spawns of Lord Skin."
My heartbeat pounded like war drums. "Then what?"
His expression shifted ever so slightly. "Then what?" he echoed, as if mulling over the question himself. He placed his hand on his chin, contemplating. "Get stronger. Then co back and kill an immortal."
Silence.
And then—laughter. Pure, unfiltered, boisterous laughter. It burst from involuntarily, an uncontrollable, borderline hysterical sound. "You... want to kill? A literal immortal? How?"
He smirked and mumbled sothing inaudible to , his gaze flickering with sothing I couldn’t quite place. "Because you are uncertainty itself. The enemy of the Cosmic Order or at least thats what I think or most importantly...Hope."
He took one last sip of his tea before standing up. "You will understand when you get stronger, when you learn more about the world. Just keep in mind—I won’t hold back from defending myself."
Before I could process the weight of what had just transpired, the scenery shifted. Without warning, I was sowhere else.
A chamber. A room filled to the brim with aether crystals, shimring like trapped stardust. The very sa spherical green orbs I had extracted from the spider.
"Catch it!"
Reflexively, I reached out, my hands closing around sothing smooth and round. I turned toward the voice. Ebon Val Borg stood there, smiling.
He leaned against a table, his arms crossed. "Take them as a souvenir from . There are enough aether crystals for your awakening and so sporb for your travels."
I stared at him, bewildered. Was this man giving his own bounty?
I wasn’t about to question it. Hell no. I had co here for these very things, and now they were practically being handed to .
Ebon noticed my expression and chuckled. "You look awfully happy for soone who just got gifts from an immortal being."
Was that sarcasm? I didn’t cafe. I didn’t even try to hide my excitent. My ticket to awakening was in my hands. "Of course I’m happy!"
His laughter was light. "Good for you. I suppose this is goodbye, then."
I suddenly rembered the rcenary group. "Your Immortality, do you have any information about my rcenary group?"
He shook his head. A small relief washed over —they hadn’t been caught yet.
"Can you teleport to Crescent Pond?" I asked.
He smirked. "You’re quite demanding."
I shot back, "You started it."
His chuckle resonated through the chamber. "Fair enough." With a flick of his wrist, a black sphere enveloped both of us. A single pulse, and the next mont, we stood at Crescent Pond.
The sky was painted in hues of deep orange and violet. The dusk had arrived.
"Thanks, Your Immortality," I muttered.
He gave a knowing smile. "Any other requests?"
I hesitated before asking, "Were the ergency requests a fraud?"
He nodded. "Yes. A ans to gather more sacrifices and search for people like you."
Interesting.
One last question lingered on my tongue. "Who is your wife?"
A small, muffled laugh escaped him. He was genuinely trying to suppress his amusent. "You’ve t her quite... closely. The barmaid you kissed, Priscilla."
His voice turned cold at the last word.
I paled.
Before I could grovel at his feet for forgiveness, he vanished, leaving alone with my thoughts.
’Well. Fuck.’
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