[Corruption Wielder] Chapter 86: Torture is Good for You Sometimes (This Title Fact-Checked By REAL Torturers) (Patreon)

“This isn’t the end, is it,” Will said, checking for the fifth or sixth time with Sen’s eyes that the restraints Nynn had used on Ingrid’s now-defenseless body were still intact.

“You can relax on checking those,” Nynn said. “Items are significantly less subject to the whims of plausibility than Users. These restraints would bind a diamond-ranker with ease, let alone a mere gold.”

That was true, at least. A quick scan of them revealed that they were Prince-tier chains, the same as Nynn’s scythe, but Will couldn’t shake the feeling that Ingrid had something up her sleeve. He’d countered half a dozen of her plans already, with Pages of the Past proving that it was worth its weight in gold by showing him where and what her traps were.

Her ability to stymie Nynn had laid not only in her gold rank, but also the sheer complexity that interweaving her skills had created. Nynn’s perception was strong, but his build wasn’t perception-focused, and now that he had lost much fo the sheer power that he’d had as a sovereign-tier Dread Executor, it had been Will’s arrival and Pages alongside Sen that had finally allowed the pair of them to track Ingrid down and capture her.

“You are correct,” Nynn sighed. “She is protecting rituals in this area, but the groundwork has already been laid and short of detonating the entire tournament, which is infeasible for other reasons and would also arguably be a cultist victory, I do not believe I can fully disrupt all of it.”

“There’s gotta be other cultists in the area, right?” Will asked. “Her traps made it a pain in the ass to look around, but I swear that I saw more than one signature.”

“Possible,” Nynn acknowledged. “Any further information is going to have to come from increased investigation, however.”

“I have a pretty good guess as to how we’re going to be able to squeeze some out,” Will said, eyeing the defeated cultist warily.

“Indeed,” Nynn said. “How comfortable are you with torture?”

“Good question,” Will said. “Let me pass out really quickly and I’ll get back to you on that one.”

“What?”

Will was already asleep.

#

Vyx had gone by many names during his time as a mortal. The Butcher of Morninglark. The King of the Eternal Throne. The Nightmare Beast.

Now, though, he was known by only one. The Crown was a being wholly separate from who he had been as a mortal, even if his personality and godhood had been shaped by who he had been before.

Once, he had sought to rule the entire universe. As a god, he realized how much more of a task that was, but even then, he embodied the Crown. Vyx was not one who stopped because the worlds told him to. The rightful order was one with him as ultimate sovereign, and for over eight thousand years, he had sought to increase his ascendancy.

Despite hundreds, thousands of cycles spent raising champions, despite proxy wars waged over entire solar systems, he had never managed to crack his way to the top. Vyx’s status had flirted with greatness for centuries at a time, breaking into the inner gods before he inevitably fell from grace again. Now, even an insolent boy who had ruined his plans seventy-five cycles ago was a god himself.

He had vowed to see a platinum-rank Kadael dead, once upon a time, and now that child was the Hunger, beyond even Vyx’s reach. 

To kill a god was a much greater feat than to slay even the strongest Emperor-tier mortal, and it carried a far heftier taboo. The last god to slay another had been Justice, who had ended the reign of the one who had claimed the mantle of Blood at the time, and the Justice of that cycle had been replaced, its divinity stripped and given to the next worthy ascendant.

Vyx had not directly taken part in those events, but he had lost status for his proximity to it. When a major goddess had made contact with him to influence the trial, he had taken the chance. Power was all that spoke in this world, and he would gain more and more until it was everyone else who knelt at the sight of his Crown.

It had all been going so well until the corruption wielder that the plot had revolved around had taken his sigil. Vyx had not cared about who took his sigil, so long as they were powerful, and he had not gone through a lengthy process to pick them.

Clearly, that had been a mistake. Now, he was bound to the very mortal that was ruining everything. During the course of the tournament, Vyx had learned that he was not the only one that had been interfered with. Elys, Lady of the Lake, had also been given a terrible champion thanks to the corruption wielder.

He did not regret ordering her to use her new champion to kill the one who’d willingly given up Vyx’s sigil. It was small, petty vindication, abusing the fact that Vyx had just the tiniest bit of status over Elys, but what was the point of divine power if you couldn’t exert it from time to time?

Granted, he no longer cared about the plot. It was never his game to begin with, and he had merely latched onto it in hopes that it would benefit him as the Crown. Despite his near-constant rage, he was not an unintelligent god. Linking with a corruption wielder as greater plans to corrupt a world took place would easily and obviously show that he had violated the divine contract.

“Peace,” he said, forming a divine link between himself and the goddess, “I cannot participate with this sigil-holder. Until he is dead, I am invoking non-interference.”

Perhaps she would do his dirty work for him. His direct involvement had already done enough. If he was lucky, she would rid him of Kadael and the mortal in one fell swoop.

As if to answer his hopes, William Li-Brown entered his realm.

#

“Yo, dickhead,” Will said, looking around him. “Do you all have a domain like this? It’s entirely too easy to get here. Haven’t you ever heard of network security? Even your buddy there was managing his space fine. I actually had to ask to get in, at least. You’re just letting me into your head like this?’

The Hunger’s dream space was less detailed than the Crown’s, but it had also been significantly more secure. Will had found it as an option while probing his unconscious soul some time ago. He had largely avoided this place so far after nearly dying the first time.

To be honest, he could guess why the Crown’s dream-domain wasn’t guarded by any security. The god’s aura bore down on his soul with even more force than the Hunger’s, clawing all of Will’s protections away in a moment and baring his existence to the divine being.

“YOU,” Vyx roared.

“ME,” Will shouted back, not nearly as loud. At least he had the spirit “Why the fuck does everyone say that? Yes, I know you’re talking to me! I’m literally your only option!”

As the Crown’s pressure bore down on Will’s exposed soul, he put the first part of what could dubiously be called a “plan” into action.

He pushed back.

It was a hopeless endeavor, of course. Will couldn’t hope to bear the weight of the sky on his back, not when his rank was this low, so he didn’t try for defense. Instead, he let the Crown’s passive pressure crush him even more, sacrificing all his learned aura defenses for pure offense.

Could he damage a god? The answer was almost certainly no, but Will was always willing to entertain the possibility of the impossible.

The Crown’s aura twitched, and Will’s soul surged in elation.

Only to be smashed into a wave of indescribable pain moments later.

“INSOLENT INSECT. YOU HAVE CROSSED ME ONE TOO MANY TIMES, MORTAL. DO YOU THINK THE RULES OF ENGAGEMENT CAN PROTECT ONE LIFE FROM A GOD? FROM ME?”

Will’s entire world shattered. The assault he bore was far stronger than even the Hunger’s, and now that he had a better understanding of his soul, he knew that the Crown was affecting him even if it could not touch his physical body. The god’s reach was deeper than Kadael’s, and—Will’s thoughts fractured, the pain too much to think.

Normally, he could force himself to wake up. To put an end to the hurt.

This time, he couldn’t. Will realized too late that the security that the Crown had placed on its dream domain wasn’t on entering.

He couldn’t leave.

Will knew he was special. He’d told those he’d beaten as much. His soul had been forged by the rage of a god.

But the Crown was an older god than the Hunger, and it knew how to break beings of divine power.

Eventually, even Will’s determination would break.

And then there was nothing but pain and terror.

#

Kadael broke into his old enemy’s domain too late. He’d started breaching the other god’s domain 

Will’s soul had been devastated. The mortal’s physical manifestation in the space was a bloody mess, smeared across the floor. Vyx sat on his throne opposite the dying soul, looking down at Will with a haughty glare.

“What have you done?” the Hunger breathed. “This is the pettiness of a mortal, Vyx. Even you should know it is unbefitting of you.”

“Insects should know their place,” the Crown replied easily, quiet at last. “Peace will overlook this transgression. It is only one human.”

“Do you know how valuable this one human is?” Kadael growled. “A world rests on his shoulders, whether he knows—knew—it or not.”

“It is a mark of shame to shed tears over mortals,” Vyx said, a sneer forming on his physical manifestation. “That you have invested your power in him only shows poor judgment, not a true connection. You have much to learn, child, and it will not be I that teaches you. It will be the world.”

“Thank the Administrator for that. The last time you taught me, you nearly killed me. Seven separate times, mind you.”

“It is a testament to your arrogance that you remained.”

“A testament to your weakness, more like. You underestimated me, just like you did this human.”

“And just as this one is now on death’s doorstep, so too will I see you into the grave one day.”

“Hey, this is a nice enemies-to-very-reluctant-lovers setup you two have going here, but I think I gotta go,” a third, very human voice said, carrying the same casual arrogance that the Crown possessed.

“You,” the Hunger said, staring. He had barely noticed the soul piecing itself back together.

“Come on, not you too! Yes! Who else could you be talking to!”

“The Crown,” the god said drily.

“Okay, fair point, but dude. You’ve got to come up with something more original.”

The Hunger’s senses scanned Will’s now-intact soul. If it had been human, his eyes might have widened, but instead, all that happened was his existence reverberated with a slight shock.

“You, an envoy of Mercy?” It was almost laughable.

“Yep!” Will smiled brightly. He turned. “Really, I have to thank you, Vyx. The Hunger’s got this big deal with grasping for power and crushing every opportunity it can find, which is nice for raw strength, but that’s not what I need right now. There’s a level of sadism in your aura that is really just unmatched.”

“You knew I would come,” the Hunger realized. “That you would be brought to the brink of death and be brought back. How?”

“Power makes you predictable,” Will said simply. “As much as you claim to be above mortals, you two have been open books when it comes to guessing what you’ll do next. Easy as hell, really. Turns out that when you’re not scrabbling for every opportunity to survive and you can make your own choices, you fall into patterns. You see literally everything I do, and you hate this dude more than you hate me, so it was natural you’d see this and come help me. Thanks for calling me important, by the way.”

The Hunger could do nothing but stare.

”Also, could you just say I actually died? That’ll make for a way better story. I get close to dying every day. ‘The brink of death’ isn’t anything special, so…”

“YOU DARE ADDRESS ME LIKE A MORTAL? YOU WILL LEARN—“

Will was already walking away as if nothing had happened. As Vyx’s aura went to crush him once more, Kadael met it with his own, forcing the other god to back off. Direct divine conflict here would draw attention that neither of them wanted.

“See you tonight, Hunger,” Will said. “Tell Vyx I told him to go fuck himself, will you?”

“USE MY TITLE, MORTAL. I AM RIGHT HERE.”

But Will was already gone.

As the mortal disappeared, returning to the real world, Kadael looked at the fuming Crown, the one who had once brought the nascent Hunger to his knees. The god had been reduced to a laughingstock, and just like the Hunger, its unfathomable power was nothing more than a training room to this peculiar human, who seemed to have no fear.

The Hunger could not help himself. Predictable, Will had called them. Easy.

He started to laugh, and though the Crown continued to rage, Kadael did not stop.

#

Will reappeared in the material world feeling as if an elephant had just sat on his soul. He gasped for air as he manifested again, then stilled himself and his aura as his Equilibrium Mantle came into place, restoring his ability to operate in space.

He had not lied when he’d spoken to the gods, but he had not spoken the full truth either. The two places his sigils could not see were inside the Beyond and his own mind, and he wasn’t in the former, so he kept his quiet terror to his latter.

Will had counted on the Hunger coming, but the god had been late. Will didn’t even know how Kadael had managed to screw that up.

The joke to the Hunger hadn’t truly been a joke. For just a moment, in that precious second after the Hunger arrived and before Envoy of Mercy began to take effect to heal his soul with the boons he’d received from “saving” Ingrid, Will had been dead. His flesh might have been intact, but his soul had been gone.

That had been a far more harrowing experience than he had expected. It was a brutal reminder that as much as he could play powerful beings off of each other, even the slightest miscalculation would prove to be painfully fatal.

Eyes still closed, Will’s attention flicked to his system notifications.

[Resistance] advanced 8 levels to Silver 10!

[Soul] advanced to Silver 7!

Achievement earned: [Defiance of the End]

You faced a god in its own domain with nothing but your soul. You have died, but you are not dead. Manner of death: soul annihilation.

Reward: Due to your manner of death, you have gained the [Shattersoul] title.

“You’re alive.” Nynn’s voice caught him by surprise, and Will expanded his senses to realize that he was lying down atop something resembling a bed. He’d been moved inside and placed next to the still-bound Ingrid. “You were gone for a full day. I was sure you were dead. At one point, your soul seemed to escape your body.”

Nynn’s aura betrayed him, Will realized. The gold-rank had possessed superior aura control strong enough to hide from his aura senses, but now his emotions were practically an open book for Will to read.

The former Dread Executor had been hiding it well, but his aura showed how surprised he was that Will was still here. It also betrayed a hint of horror as his perception washed over Will, which did not make him more confident in examining his own soul.

“Having a sigil is like constantly being on the worst trip imaginable,” Will said. “I think. I’ve never taken LSD.”

“I seem to recall asking you a question before you abruptly disappeared,” Nynn said. “You make a bad habit out of that.”

Remembering how he had ditched the Sentinel with barely a word half a week ago, Will winced. That was true.

“Whether I was okay with torture, right?” Will asked. “Before the apocalypse, that would have been a resounding no. It’s still not what I’d call something that perfectly aligns with my morals.”

“You have over two hundred sapient kills recorded to your name,” Nynn said. “What is a little more suffering to you? Why does it matter?”

“Minimizing suffering matters because the moment I start ignoring it, I go down a path I can’t come back from,” Will said. “I become the person who fulfills the conditions of the Eternal Throne. I start killing everyone and everything I see and using everyone I can’t kill to push myself inches further. I won’t say I can’t become that, which is scary enough on its own. It’s a possibility that I will never let come to pass.”

Nynn studied Will for a long, then nodded. “Good. There are too many candidates willing to entirely give up what makes them mortal.”

“That was a test?”

“I believe I have mentioned as such before.“

“Right,” Will said. “Everything is a test.”

“Your dedication to preventing yourself from becoming a monster for your own sake is admirable,” Nynn said, getting them back on track. “But what if it is not for your own sake? Your world’s fate may rest on gaining this information”

“Well,” Will said. “Torture is notoriously bad at getting accurate answers out of people. There’s, like, a billion studies on it.”

“Indeed it is,” Nynn agreed. “However.”

He pointed at a ritual circle drawn around their captured quarry. It bore the marks of his Dreadscythe, and it glimmered with magic.

Will examined it.

“Prince-rank magic,” he said, surprised by the relative dimness of the ritual despite its incredible strength. “What does it do?”

“Plausibility does not permit me to do more with this than prevent those within from knowingly telling a lie,” Nynn said. “There will be no false confessions.”

“Convenient. Is this another test? Trying to see if I’ll abandon my moral framework because that’s the only option?”

“It is always a test. Not even I know every parameter. I will, however, remind you that we are not called the Dread Executors without reason.”

“Oh, I know,” Will said darkly. “A very powerful being has just demonstrated to me exactly what to do. This isn’t going to be pretty.”

Nynn smiled coldly. “Then let us begin.”

Will paused. “Why does everyone I meet have the creepiest goddamn smile? You could at least try to look less like an evil overlord. How am I supposed to take this seriously when you’re doing your best Heath Ledger?”

“You keep on trying to unbalance me with references to a culture I do not know.”

“And it’s working.”

“Yes, it is. Now get on with it.”

#

Oliver’s last week had been a rollercoaster of emotions. He’d been at the very bottom, completely hopeless, and then a wave of silver-rankers had come in seemingly out of nowhere to save him. Then, one of them had abruptly left, leaving nothing but a strange, inaccessible dark portal in his wake.

Of the remaining silvers, there were two who were decidedly sympathetic to the crew of the Sentinel. Hua Yang of the Sydney Human Defense Force and Natalie Blurr of an unnamed group in London both continued doing supply runs, loading up the Sentinel with enough to last several months at least. They were often accompanied by Caiyeri Seven, an elf who seemed not to be terribly interested in the bronze-rank crew. To be honest, she scared Oliver.

The other silvers kept on disappearing, though, and nobody’s perception skills were strong enough to catch where they were going off to.

To make matters worse, the gold-rank leviathan had started stirring now that there was more potential prey in the area. Hua had mentioned a few times over dinner that the silvers were taking stabs at it occasionally, but that no organized effort was going to be made at it until the literal last day before they left.

They were approaching that now. Two weeks since the sixteen tournament participants had arrived, not one of them was on the ship.

Oliver found himself with Wisteria, sitting side-by-side next to the ominous mass of dark energy that the most absent User had left behind when he’d vanished.

“Looking down at our saviors?” Oliver asked. He wasn’t entirely able to keep the bitterness out of his voice. If he had been stronger, or if they’d arrived earlier, maybe he wouldn’t have had to lose so many friends.

“I’m worried for them,” Wisteria said. “Hua’s a nice kid, and Natalie is everything our country should be fighting for. I don’t know the rest as well, but if they’re as important as those two, it’ll be a big blow if they disappear. I saw that leviathan run through a full squad of our strongest like they were sausages fed into a woodchipper.”

“Have faith in them,” Oliver said. “They’ll manage. They’ve managed so far, and they’re the strongest Earth has to offer. They wouldn’t have made it this far if they were going to lose to a random ocean monster, right?”

He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince at this point.

“Maybe,” Wisteria replied. “I wish I could be down there.”

“You do? Are you insane?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I just find myself wishing again and again that maybe, just once, my fate could be in my own hands.”

Oliver sensed a magical surge within Wisteria at that moment, though it disappeared shortly after.

“What?” she asked. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Uh, no,” he said, realizing that he was staring at her. “Just—“

The portal flashed a strange, flat color, then darkened again.

The man who stepped out was not the overly cheery, easily distracted one they’d met two weeks prior. He was shrouded in shadow, but his eyes shone a sharp, deadly silver, piercing through his own shade.

“I’m back,” William Li-Brown announced, as casual as if he’d returned from buying milk at the corner store. “Where are they? I need to talk to them.”

Wisteria and Oliver, both rendered speechless by the sheer malicious force Will now put off, both just pointed down.

He nodded. “Thanks.”

Wisteria shook herself out of her daze, rising to her feet. “Um, before you go! There’s a gold-rank leviathan down there. Be careful. It’s dangerous.”

“Maybe to you,” Will replied. “Be back in a few.”

Shadow swirled around him, enveloping his body, then dispersed.

When the darkness was gone, so too was Will. The oppressive pressure that had come with him lifted too, allowing them both to suck in a full breath for the first time.

“That was kind of hot,” Wisteria said.

“Hot? He’s ten years younger than you!” Oliver replied loudly, taken off-guard. “And I swear he made me wet myself a little.”

“Exactly,” Wisteria said. “You’re starting to figure it out.”