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Vol. 2 Ch. 39: Lost Control (is a song)
🕑 Added 2025-08-13 02:52:09 +0000 UTCAuthor's Note:
Content Warning: Sensitive content ahead: Torture.
Recurring Characters:
Peter: The protagonist of this book.
Deathknell: Peter's summon. It is an eldritch spirit with darkness and shadow manipulation skills.
Avaris: The goddess of healing, fertility, etc.
Recap:
Then, suddenly, it all rushed towards Peter, covering him in a cocoon of darkness which exploded soon after, revealing his transformed form.
…End of Author's Note...
...
For a moment, the world was silent, except for the crackle of burning wood and the howl of wind.
Carter continued supplying mana to his spell, a droplet of sweat sliding over his left cheek. Despite how it looked at first glance, the battle hadn’t been easy for him. The intruder was quite strong, proven by the fact that he had easily taken care of all the men working under him.
When simple spells like wind blade and fire bolt failed to stop him, Carter was forced to use high-level spells. Each attack drained his mana reserve by a substantial degree. Only by flinging spell after spell, he was able to push the intruder back and keep the upper hand in their clash.
Carter knew that as soon as the intruder managed to get his hands on him, the battle was over. He didn’t have enough physical stats to push the bastard away after that. He hoped that all the commotion caused by their clash would alert others, and reinforcements would soon arrive.
Carter clenched his jaw, feeling the throb of an ever-increasing headache in his forehead. Even the best trick in his arsenal—a combined skill—had only been able to keep the intruder at bay, rather than kill him. At the speed the spell was draining him of mana, he would empty his pool in a few minutes.
He really hoped that the reinforcements would arrive before that.
…
The moment the transformation occurred, Peter realised he had made a significant mistake. Something was very wrong. A flood of aggressive thoughts ambushed him.
As he tried to combat the rage and hatred forced upon him, he felt a massive will enter his mental domain, stealing control of his body. The last thing that he saw before he lost consciousness was a string of system notifications.
System…
[
Warning: Title: True Cultist is resonating with Abyss.
Warning: Title: The Walking Calamity is resonating with Abyss.
Note: The presence of a contract with a spirit of chaos was detected.
Warning: The resonance is getting stronger.
Warning: Abyss empowers your summon, Deathknell.
Warning: Some of the system restrictions imposed on Deathknell are temporarily lifted.
Note: Skill: Spirit of Fortitude is trying to resist the influence.
Warning: It is unable to resist the influence.
Note: Skill: Eternal Ward is trying to protect you from the influence.
Warning: It is unable to protect you from the influence.
Note: Skill: Undying Vitality is trying to heal your mental domain.
Warning: It is unable to heal as much as the damage you are taking.
Warning: You are under the effects of Mental Domination Lv. 1.
Warning: Status: Mental Domination Lv. 1 has evolved into Mental Domination Lv. 2
Warning: Status: Mental Domination Lv 2 has evolved into Mental Domination Lv. 3
Warning: Status: Mental Domination Lv 3 has evolved into Mental Domination Lv 2 due to Undying Vitality
Warning: Status: Mental Domination Lv. 2 has evolved into Mental Domination Lv. 3
Warning: …
…
]
…
‘Kill. Kill. Kill. Pain. Pain. Pain. Misery. Misery. Pain. Blood. Misery. Pain.’
The hooded figure tilted his head to the side, the motion slow, almost curious—like a predator deciding whether to toy with its prey or tear it apart outright. Shadows curled and uncurled lazily around his form, each tendril moving with the grace of something alive.
The firestorm roared around him, yet not a single ember touched the cloak of living darkness. Instead, the flames bent away, twisting unnaturally as if repelled by an unseen force.
Without warning, the figure moved. One moment it stood still, the next it was in motion, almost gliding in the air, its silhouette blurring at the edges. The shadows around his arms expanded like falling ink before twisting around his palms into massive shadowy claws.
The figure extended his large claws, digging them into the wall of wind and fire ahead of him and ripped the tornado in half, his form already jumping outside.
Carter’s instincts screamed at him to retreat. He threw up a layered barrier just as the left claw descended upon him from the side. The impact caused his body to fly back like a fallen leaf under a breeze—his shield filled with cracks. A grunt left his lips as he hit the ground hard.
Carter’s body skidded across the charred floor, boots dragging grooves into the wood before he slammed into a half-burned support beam. The shock rattled his bones, his breath catching in his throat…but he had no time to recover.
The shadowed figure was already there. One clawed hand slammed into the floor beside Carter’s head, splintering the boards into jagged shards.
Carter shuddered in terror, his eyes wide.
The other claw coiled itself lazily around his left leg, slowly tightening its hold around the limb.
“No…Please no. Please, I beg—”
The figure twisted the leg at once, causing Carter to scream in pain. The hooded head tilted to the side, the eyes hidden inside narrowing in pleasure at hearing the screams of his victim. A low, distorted chuckle rumbled from beneath the hood.
The claw tightened further, bones snapping with a wet, splintering crunch that was swallowed by Carter’s ragged scream. The sound seemed to delight the figure—its head tilting further. The leg was pulled apart in one quick motion, even as Carter’s health points decreased to heal the wound.
Carter gasped, his mind almost blank from pain, but the figure wasn’t satisfied just yet. The leg was thrown to the side.
In the next moment, the figure raked Carter’s side savagely with its claw. Flesh tore easily beneath the shadowy talons, blood spilling freely onto the floorboards, soaking into the charred wood. The figure’s movements were unhurried, deliberate, as if savouring each sound, each twitch of pain.
Carter’s hands trembled, reaching instinctively to staunch the wound, but the shadows surged up from the floor, pinning his wrists above his head. He kicked weakly, his good leg thrashing, but another tendril coiled around his ankle, yanking him down until his back slammed flat against the ground.
The mage almost wished that he didn’t have such a large amount of health points. He almost wished for death. The pain was unbearable.
The figure leaned over him, claw dragging down the mage’s chest, not deep enough to kill, just enough to peel more screams from his throat. The shadows writhed and curled at the edges of each wound, almost tasting the blood they drew.
Another chuckle, low and vibrating with satisfaction, rumbled from within the hood. The claws paused for only a breath before striking again—this time plunging into Carter’s shoulder, twisting just enough to make his body arch and convulse.
Just then, the ceiling groaned and split apart, charred beams and wooden planks raining down in a deafening crash. Through the breach, a single spear of light pierced the smoke-filled gloom, so bright it banished every shadow in its path. It struck the floor behind the two combatants, splintering the wood in a shockwave of pure radiance.
The darkness recoiled instantly. Tendrils of shadow that had moments ago writhed with hunger now shrank and hissed like steam on heated metal. The rageful eyes beneath the hood flickered, faltering under the sudden, oppressive warmth of divine might.
From the fading light of the spear’s impact, a form began to take shape—twisting at first, then forming into a graceful silhouette of a teenage girl. She appeared to step out of the radiance itself, her bare feet touching the scorched floor without leaving so much as an ash print.
Waist-long silver hair flowed behind her like liquid moonlight, the strands catching and scattering the remnants of the divine glow. Her crimson eyes locked onto the hooded figure, their depths holding an impossible weight.
The shadows seemed to shrink away from her gaze, drawing tighter around the figure’s form as if trying to hide. The air shifted, turning warmer, cleaner, charged with the scent of something pure and untouchable.
“Why causeth unnecessary pain?” She said, her voice soft yet resonant enough to fill every corner of the building. She raised her hand and aimed her palm at Carter’s head. A beam of light escaped her palm and hit the head faster than a blink, turning it into dust and ending the man’s suffering.
The hooded figure froze, claws still buried in Carter’s shoulder, the tendrils twitching in agitation.
“Eaten by a rage not thine own,” she remarked with the quiet certainty of someone who could see internal struggle raging within Peter’s mental domain. “Come to thine senses.”
The words sounded more like a command than a plea, laced with her authority. The air between them shimmered faintly, and for the briefest moment, even Deathknell seemed to hesitate.
Then the figure’s head tilted forward, the rage inside the eyes beneath the hood flaring violently. Shadow tendrils whipped toward her in a frenzied pattern. Avaris didn’t so much as blink. She raised her hand, and beams of light bent around her fingers, weaving into a radiant barrier that intercepted each strike. Where shadow met light, the darkness shrivelled and peeled away, hissing like water on molten steel.
The figure vanished in a blur, reappearing at her flank, claws arching toward her throat. The strike passed harmlessly through her as her form dissolved into golden motes, before reforming directly before him. Avaris pressed her palm lightly to his chest, and a wave of radiance erupted outward, tearing strips of shadow from his body.
For the briefest instant, the cloak covering Peter’s body retreated, revealing his figure to the goddess, but the darkness surged back to cover it. Deathknell roaring in defiance.
“A pity. Such a young child under the clutches of this foul abyssal creature,” The goddess muttered, stepping forward. Her every step pushed the figure back without effort, the floor glowing under her feet.
“I hest of thee, foul beast,” she intoned, her voice deepening with divine authority. “Leave the child and return where thine came from.”
The shadows writhed violently, the tendrils lashing against the air as if the words themselves were an attack. The figure’s claws dug into the floorboards, resisting the invisible weight pressing upon it. A deep, guttural growl echoed from beneath the hood—low at first, then building into a furious, echoing roar that rattled the very walls.
It did not affect the goddess. She didn’t even falter a bit. Avaris extended her arm, and a sphere of pure light began to form in her palm, its radiance growing brighter and hotter, chasing the shadows from every corner of the room.
Before she could strike the figure with the sphere, something else seized her attention. Her head turned slightly, crimson irises sharpening as her gaze pierced the floor, down through the shattered boards, past the stone foundations, into the filth-choked sewers, and deeper still, to the cult’s hidden stronghold.
There, her eyes found it. The statue of Abyss.
And Abyss stared back.
An unnatural stillness swept the air. The temperature in the building plummeted, shadows thickening into an almost physical haze. Deathknell’s form shuddered violently, as if caught between two astronomically large forces, its claws twitching erratically.
Avaris stumbled.
Up above in the sky, the moon — the beacon of her divine domain — dimmed, its silver glow draining away as though an unseen hand was smothering it. As if responding to the dimness of her domain, the other moons intensified their radiance. It almost appeared like they were trying to protect their sister moon in her weakened state.
Avaris tried to steady herself, but even her mortal body seemed to have taken equally large damage. The divine aura surrounding her body seemed to waver under the oppressive weight pressing in from all sides. The shadows in the room swelled and writhed, as if eager to devour her light.
“I was careless,” Avaris said, her voice sounding remorseful, but firm. Then, her gaze sharpened into steel. “Yet thou shalt not have this one.”
…End of Chapter…
Comments
Kartik sharma
why did you delete the comment?
tonright
I get what you're going for but the way you're having the priestess/goddess speak comes across a little odd IMO. Phrases like "Consumed by rage of not thy owneth" would probably be "Consumed by a rage not thine own" ("own" starts with a vowel sound and that seems more consistent a thing later on, thought they do at times seem to have been used interchangably (?) middle english, has more latiny words like "consume" and "rage"), If you're going for older you could probably slot in more words like "wrath" for "rage", and "eaten" for "consumed" maybe? idk. If this feedback is unwelcome feel free to tell me to go away, I mean no offense, I just worked with this kind of text irl so the mashup stands out even if i'm not qualified for extensive corrections or anything lol
Kartik sharma
Hey now, have I ever turned down a person who's just trying to help in a kind and polite way? Thank you for sharing your expertise. English isn't my first language, much less this Shakespearean version. I relied on an english translator for it, and then did a little bit of mixing of modern languages. If you are willing to tell the correct phrases, I'll get it fixed. Thanks. I appreciate the feedback all the same. ♥
