Rise of the Blood Weaver - Chapter 81 (Patreon)

Arlo returned his consciousness back to the spirit realm. Everyone was looking at him, watching in anticipation. Arlo smiled, and summoned Vyr. In a bloodied haze, he appeared in a flash in front of Arlo.

That’s new, Arlo thought.

Usually they just… appeared. The blood haze was a new addition. He found it rather fitting with the whole blood theme going on with his Path.

“Holy shit,” Justin exclaimed as he rushed to Vyr. He poked the Reflections shoulder. “Yep, feels like muscle. Shit’s creepy as fuck. Rather fitting, huh?”

“That’s exactly my thoughts,” Arlo said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Well,” Justin said. He smiled. That was never a good sign. He thrust his thumb over to Merc. “How about a sparring session? Good chance to see what Bones can do now.”

“It’s Vyr now.”

“Technically,” Elian added, “shouldn’t it be named Muscly?”

“That doesn’t go well together,” Arlo said. “Muscles? Definitely not. Vyr he remains.”

Merc approached. “It would be good to see what he’s capable of. I wonder if he’s gotten stronger than before, or if he has some other properties from the evolution. Interesting.”

“I’m not sure either,” Arlo said. “Guess we’ll find out. Okay Vyr, fight Merc. No aiming for any vital areas.”

At his command, Vyr stepped forward. From his forearm, a curved blade sliced through the muscle, and continued until the blade was at least two feet beyond his hand. The blade had the exact same appearance as Arlo’s tendrils. It seemed the blade had also taken on the properties of [Predator’s Appendage]. It was hard.

“Hey, he can control his blood even better than you, and he’s practically just been born,” Justin mocked.

“Shut up,” Arlo spat.

But it was the truth. Arlo realised as another blade emerged from Vyr’s arm. He moved at high speed at Merc. Merc had only barely managed to brandish her sword by the time Vyr had arrived.

Vyr struck Merc’s sword with a blood blade. Merc’s eyes widened at the impact. She was sent sliding back. Vyr was already on the offensive.

The fight lasted 5 minutes. It was a flurry of attacks. Vyr’s movements, although agile, were mostly simple in nature. His lack of parrying was his undoing and dodging was his undoing.

With each second that passed, Merc was starting to claw back dominion over the battle. She parried an incoming attack. She twisted her body, and replied in kind with a sharp elbow to the underside of Vyr’s chin.

Despite the powerful attack, it barely did anything. All it did was make Vyr’s chin rise. Another ten minutes, and Merc was in full swing. Her lips curled. Anything that had happened with Louis had erased itself in her mind. The only thing she was focused on was the battle in front of her.

Watching the battle unfold, Arlo’s hands itched. He wanted to join in. To fight. He wasn’t expecting it. To enjoy the intensity of battle. But there he was, watching with focused eyes. He put himself in Vyr’s shoes. What he would do better. Where he would dodge, and how he would counter-attack.

15 minutes later, Arlo decided to end the sparring session. It was getting dark and that meant that the world would soon be plunged into an all consuming darkness. And that also meant that it was time to retreat into [Void Sanctum].

The others separated. Merc was still exercising. Justin had disappeared to god knows where. He did that sometimes recently. Arlo was a little worried that his friend would get himself injured or lost, but somehow, Arlo doubted that. Elian was also settling down for bed. He groaned as he lay on the hard floor. He whispered something to himself, but Arlo didn’t think anything of it.

Everyone had their own ways of coping.

Arlo finally climbed into [Void Sanctum]. Once more, he was suspended in darkness. Just the world outside. Then came the whispers. They were ancient and grand and completely indecipherable. But for some reason, they helped him sleep. Before he knew it, he was already in a deep sleep.

***

It was morning now. Arlo and his troupe had already made it beyond where they had stopped the day prior. It was further than they had ever gone before. They were just waiting for Justin to return. He only scouted 4 or 4 passageways now. Anymore, and he was feared he’d get lost.

Arlo understood. He was lost the moment they entered this place. Nevermind circumnavigating hundreds of different passageways. His respect for Justin and Elian grew.

5 minutes later, Justin returned. He looked out of it. As if he had seen something he shouldn’t have.

“Justin,” Arlo said. “What’s up? Look’s like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“Ghost. No, something worse,” Justin said. “Merc, it’s better if you take a look at it yourself. I think it’s the only way out of here.”

They followed Justin’s lead down 4 more passageways. Turning a corner, Arlo’s eyes widened. He saw it. Whatever had caused Justin to feel uneasy, Arlo was now experiencing it.

The red vines along the walls were vibrating. Pulsating. Like throbbing veins. It was a horrible sight, but that was just the beginning.

In the centre of the room was a cross. Pinned to an enormous cross was a giant around 13 feet tall. Enormous spikes had penetrated his hands and feet. He was emaciated and bones protruded from his wounded, corpse-like body. Shrooms with spores grew from his shoulders and head. Thick white fur covered his body. Long hair covered his face. He wasn’t a human. If he could even be called a ‘he’ in the first place. It resembled an ape more than anything. Something primitive. Something he shouldn’t have laid his eyes on.

Arlo wasn’t sure if it was dead or not.

His vision settled on the cross he was pinned to. It was made out of the same black-grey rock the walls were made from. It was thick, as well. Looking closer, Arlo spotted a door in between the creature’s legs. It seemed as if it was a structure one could enter.

On the other side was just one pathway.

The creature reminded Arlo of Zakorian, the Fallen. He was also imprisoned. But this was different. This was done out of malice and hatred.

What the hell had happened all those years ago?

Arlo recalled the things he had seen in his own Horror. Garet spoke of Trains Hell. And then there was the mention of war.

Whispering words woke him from his stupor.

“Justin,” Merc said. “Are you sure this is the only way out?”

“I can’t be certain, no,” Justin replied. “But the alternative is spending god knows how long in this maze.”

“And there’s no way of knowing if that’s the right way or not,” Merc said.

“There’s obviously another passageway to get out of here,” Elian said, his voice muted. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the monster. “We just need to keep going. Going in there… That’s suicide.”

Arlo agreed. There was no way of knowing what would happen once they entered. They came to an agreement. They weren’t going to enter.

But after another week, they had exhausted most of the paths in the maze. And so they returned back to the crossed room.

They had no choice but to enter.