Chapter 626: The Unknown Creature

Whoosh!

Thoren did not see what happened as he only felt something powerful slam into his mount.

Bang!

The impact was catastrophic.

One moment he was clinging to the undead Sanguine Vulture’s back, the wind screaming past his ears, the ash tide howling behind him. The next moment, he was airborne.

The vulture was gone, knocked aside by a force he could not see and could not comprehend. His body tumbled through the air, spinning wildly, the world a blur of gray and black and pale white.

He slammed into the trench wall.

The impact drove the air from his lungs. A deep groan escaped his lips, torn from somewhere primal. Pain exploded through his ribs, his shoulder, his spine.

Stone and ash crumbled around him, and for one brief, desperate moment, he thought he might catch himself. His fingers scrabbled at the wall, clawing for purchase.

Then the wall gave way.

He was falling.

Falling deeper into the trench below.

Darkness swallowed him. The dim light of the surface faded, replaced by an absolute black that pressed against his eyes.

The air grew colder and heavier.

It smelled of old death and older secrets, and the deeper he fell, the stronger the smell became.

His survival instinct screamed at him.

He reached out, desperate, his hands grasping for anything.

A ledge.

A rock.

Anything.

But there was nothing. Only darkness. Only empty air. Only the endless fall into the unknown.

His heart pounded. His breath came in short, sharp gasps. He twisted in the air, trying to orient himself, trying to see, but there was nothing to see. The darkness was complete.

Just as he thought things could not get any worse, he felt it.

A presence.

It was rushing toward him at a breathtaking speed.

Danger!

His instinct screamed and his heart skipped a beat.

Thoren did not even have time to think or contemplate his next course of action.

He could feel it.

Death.

Even in the shadows, deep in the trench’s darkness, he could sense it clearly.

A terrifying beast.

From the shadow, a sharp deadly talon reached out to rip his body apart.

The talon was massive.

Black as obsidian.

Curved like a scythe.

It cut through the air with a whistle that promised annihilation. Thoren saw it coming, saw the glint of its edge in the darkness, saw the impossible speed with which it closed the distance between them.

If it struck him, he would be torn in half. He would die here, in this pit, forgotten and alone.

Without hesitating, he released his awakened soul.

[Awakened Soul]

The mighty pressure of the Awakened Soul descended into the trenches. It filled the darkness like a second presence.

Like a god descending into the underworld. The weight of it pressed against the walls, cracked the stone, stirred the ash.

The horrifying creature paused.

For a single, precious moment, it froze. The talon stopped mid-strike, hovering in the air, as though the beast behind it was confused. Or afraid. Or simply surprised.

Thoren did not dilly dally.

He summoned a couple of undead Echo Scarabs. They appeared in the air around him, small and quick, their carapaces glinting with dark energy. They were not powerful. They were not strong. But they were fast. And they were expendable.

Just as he summoned the undead Echo Scarabs, the frozen talon moved.

This time with more ferocity.

The beast had recovered from its pause. It had seen through his distraction. The talon descended with renewed speed, aimed directly at Thoren’s body.

Beneath the talon, he looked fragile and weak like a candle before a storm.

[Grave Shift]

Before the talon could rip his body apart, he vanished.

And in his place was one of the undead Echo Scarabs.

The talon struck the scarab instead. It crushed the small undead in an instant, splattering dark ichor across the trench wall.

But Thoren was no longer there. He had shifted to the position of another undead Echo Scarab, a dozen meters to the side.

The talon missed.

Shriek!

The fury of the creature was deafening.

It was not a roar. It was not a howl. It was a shriek, high and piercing, filled with rage and frustration. The sound echoed through the trenches, bouncing off the walls, drilling into Thoren’s ears.

However, Thoren did not care about that as the darkness around him began to shift.

Once again, the terrifying talon arrived before him as he fell rapidly.

It came from the darkness with no warning. No sound and no shift in the air. Just the sudden, overwhelming presence of death reaching for him.

The talon was closer this time.

Faster.

[Grave Shift!]

Without hesitation, Thoren vanished from his position and in his place, another undead Echo Scarab appeared.

Miss.

The talon struck the undead Echo scarab, crushing it instantly. But Thoren was already gone, reappearing a dozen meters below, his body wracked with pain.

Watching as its prey escaped once again, the creature was furious. It let out a long, deafening shriek.

The sound was not merely noise. It was like an attack.

A wave of force that slammed into Thoren’s body like a physical blow. His head snapped back and his vision blurred.

Blood erupted from his eyes, his nose, his ears, his mouth. It dripped down his face in warm, crimson streams, staining his clothes, dripping into the darkness below.

However, he did not have time to care.

The creature had already locked on to him once again. He could feel its attention like a weight pressing against his skin.

It was hunting him.

And just like that, Thoren and the creature played a game of cat and rat as they fell deeper into the trenches.

[Grave Shift!]

Miss.

[Grave Shift!]

Miss.

[Grave Shift!]

Miss.

Each time the talon came, he shifted. Each time he shifted, an Undead Echo Scarab died in his place.

Each time an undead Echo Scarab died, he reappeared somewhere else, bleeding more, weakening more, his body pushed to the absolute limit of what it could endure.

The creature shrieked again and again, its fury growing with every failed strike and the sound attack stacking on each other.

****

[AN: What do you think of the Third Floor so far?]