Brent Stinebaker
patreon
II-83 Into the Base
🕑 Added 2025-04-09 18:20:22 +0000 UTCThe Base of the Claimed Hells. Some call it a miserable shithole. Some described to be the Battle of the Somme squared but also times infinity spread across the entire world with a chance that a dick-shaped demon might rain down from the sky and pound your wounds as you dying screaming and shitting yourself.
All kinds of demons, monsters, and nightmarish phenomena exist down there. There are even super demons Mepheleon releases every now and again to give everyone something to have night terrors about.
But it’s also a place of opportunity. A place to get lose and stay lost. Or a place where you can operate and do anything, commit any act and get away with it if you have the power. And that’s the ultimate reason people go down to the Base. Power. Because if you have the audacity, the skill, the resources, you can spend some time fighting there, and come back stronger than years in the Between or the Heights.
And it’s not nearly as bad as you might think. I mean, it’s still horrible as fuck, but if you know what you’re doing, you can probably make it pretty far there. The Circles are always pushing against each other, with trenchlines sprawling. But a lot of that is abandoned, or bombed out, and the battlelines are so long that it’s hard to tell who is with whom or whatever.
So, if you find yourself down there, the best thing to do is to push into a patch of land where the demons are sparse and the trenches and mystical defenses are barren. Sure, they’ll be repopulated by some point, and there’s a chance you just wandered into a Shadow Spider den, but if your luck isn’t shit and you have any skill with your Class, you might just be able to get set up and start grinding…
-The Trespassers’ Compendium
II-83
Into the Base
Wei was no longer a stranger to desperate fights. Indeed, ever since he ascended the Black Tower, his life had become a series of brutal brawls, facing foes often more powerful and experienced than he. But even so, the act of precisely diverting an overwhelming beam of light—a Duke-Tier Skill capable of disintegrating an entire bridge in seconds—was something Wei hadn’t done before.
Thankfully, he wasn’t targeting the beam. Instead, the young master let out a vicious snarl as he cut at Distance, and shattered the space between a portion of the Duke’s beam and sealed portal preventing his escape.
For a moment, as his scythe glided a mere hand’s distance away from the blinding light surging toward him, Wei felt reality shudder, as if recoiling from what his System was trying to inflict. And then came a shattering. Darkness and light flashed around him, and suddenly a fractal of brilliance parted from the main beam—extending past Wei unnaturally to spear into the portal, punching clean through.
The symbols blocking their escape broke into darting fragments. But though Wei managed to open a path, a tidal wave of Essence bore down on him, seared his very being. It was only his control over Celestial Flame that prevented his immediate disintegration, but even that wouldn’t hold for long. The Duke’s power was beyond anything he could withstand for long, and soon Wei felt his spirit wailing from Essence-strain.
He tried to step back—to flee, but his mind couldn’t split two ways. It took all his focus, every last bit of flame from his Pale Fang to endure the coming onslaught. And his own brilliance was dimming, soon, he would—
A tendril of shadow hooked him from behind and yanked. Wei tumbled off his feet as he felt himself accelerating backward, through the portal. Another tendril of shadow carried the carriage containing Aerea just beside him. With his Omniscience, Wei spied his father standing there at the lip of the open portal, composing limbs from the darkness. As both carriage and Wei slipped beside William into the portal, the Trespasser created a shroud of darkness as a shield against the oncoming light. A shroud that immediately began burning. William leaped back, diving into the portal as he sent a message.
“Bishop! We’re through. Crash the portal network!”
And at once, Wei felt something strange rushed through the spatial rift. It was like an invisible kind of compression, with one end squeezing shut. A rush of force slammed into the carriage, William, and Wei. The young master felt almost choked. In that moment, the world compressed around Wei, squeezing him from one point to another. At once, his Omniscience felt blinded, his senses collapsing inward—a disconcerting sensation much like every spatial rift he’d encountered.
And then, just as suddenly, he was elsewhere. He crashed hard down a series of steps, his enhanced body smashing through rock as if it was nothing more than plaster. With a grunt, he scrambled back to his feet, and flared both his scythe and his glaive. His perception ballooned wide, spreading outward for kilometers, and what he saw left him briefly stunned.
There were rows upon rows of cages carried by a convoy of flying demons coming toward him. More than that, there were cages stacked up along the walls, all the way to the cavernous ceiling of… Wherever this was. The space before him was wide like a thoroughfare, but Wei felt like he was within a valley, with a path ahead split by the coming wave of demons. Within those cages were people of all races and forms. Slaves. Wei only realized that a moment later.
By now, the demons carrying this new shipment of slaves froze, noticing Wei, William, and the overturned carriage.
“Network down!” Bishop said. “You’re in the Base. Start moving. Do what William tells you and you should be fine.”
At once, the young master ignited a layer of celestial fire around his body—not only to mask his form, but also to serve as an aegis against any oncoming attacks. He turned to his father and regarded the carriage when a thin, shrill moan sounded from the inside. Aerea was having contractions.
“Her water was broken. She’s having the child now,” Wei said, his voice low and frustrated.
“Of course she is,” William replied, not at all surprised. “Rule one about these jobs, Wei: if there’s something that can go wrong, they will. Cut us a way through. I’ll see that she doesn’t get hit by any stray attacks.”
The young master strode forth, flourishing his scythe in tandem with his Pale Fang. The demons were strange, winged creatures with rows of eyes down their chests. There were a few armored forms rushing down the pathways as well—and more coming beyond that. Even so, they were unprepared for him, confused about his arrival, and he seized the momentum. With a dash, he shot up into the air, attacking the flying demons carrying the cages first, slicing, stabbing, slaughtering.
He kept a close eye on his father as he fought. Although William’s class was far inferior in terms of Essence level, he could meld into the shadows and, to Wei’s surprise, managed to pull the carriage into the darkness as well. With Aerea’s safety confirmed, the young master unleashed whipping chains of lighting infused with Celestial Flame. Arcing bolts carved through the demonic hordes. Bodies burst apart into fetid ash. And at once, the stupor among the demons was broken.
They released beams from their eyes. Beams that came just in time for Wei’s aegis to turn ashen. He caught their attacks and drained them of Essence, flaring his Eidolon once more. At the same time, he ignited his Empyrael Wrath, and fell into a dance of unfettered combat. Winds demons the from the air. Water snaked and speared those below. Stones erupted along the paths, stabbing the oncoming foes from beneath, and flames expanded from Wei, scalding every adversary around him.
The demons Wei faced were roughly on par with his Eidolon’s Essence Level. On paper, that made them more powerful than he was. The Source Anchor drained his System’s resources, which made him weaker than his natural state. But that just made the entire affair fun.
He sliced clean through them, his lightning striking distant foes with every twirl of his Pale Fang; winds pulled cages aside, knocking demons out of the air; water coursed around him, slicing those who dared approach; and flames swallowed their lesser cousins even as the surrounding demons channeled blasts of hellfire from their eyes.
Wei Essenceshifted, and then swept his Eidolon out. His flame blasted through theirs, and more burning bodies fell. At the same time, the slaves were screaming, bouncing in their cages. The world was pandemonium—almost so chaotic that Wei missed that squeezing feeling of a nearby teleportation.
A massive bull-like demon slammed down from somewhere above. Wei dodged to its side, watching as it crashed down into the ground. A concussive wave rose. Rocks exploded everywhere like shrapnel. Wei let them disintegrate against his body as he swung his scythe down. Distance broke again. The young master rematerialized inches away from the bull. He brought his knee down upon its face and felt its horn shatter satisfyingly. The bull’s wailed blood sprang from its nose, its wail turning to a pure shriek as Wei swept his scythe through it. Parts of the creature broke apart, shards filling his System—and Wei relished every moment. He had missed this, brief as it had been between periods of his untrammeled bloodletting.
With spear in one hand and his glowing scythe in the other, Wei struck, cut, and meditated, his mind reaching a new point of calm amidst the storm of battle.
“Keep pushing forward,” came William’s message, manifesting in Wei’s perception. The words blended into a litany of maneuvers: dodge, Essenceshift, slip past, cut, thrust, strike failed to penetrate—strike under the armpit, channel beam, cut through an impaled demon, blast through demon, continue approach, use cover, and slide under charging bull.
Every blow, every calculated move, occurred in a trance-like state as his inner shell observed his every action. The demons, acting with modified skill and overwhelming ferocity, were ultimately just pawns—whetstones for Wei to sharpen himself.
Blood and Essence trailed behind Wei. Bodies rained down in dissolving pieces. With a brutal front kick, Wei launched a spider-legged demon, sending it sprawling as its whip was forced from its feet and onto its back. The creature gurgled, clutching its broken chest, and then Wei slammed down, driving his knee into its neck. A crack sounded. And the last of this wave of demons died. A pity, he was—
Movement came from his side.
Wei brought his Eidolon up—and barely stopped himself from stabbing a slave. A slave that reached out from the cage next to him—a face too young and supple to be marked by so much grief. “Please,” the boy pleaded. There were stitches on his cheeks, muscles that had been unnaturally added, as if he were relearning how to scream or express sorrow. “Please, let us out, let us out.”
Suddenly, Wei’s trance broke. Though more demons were flooding from the edges of his awareness—heavens, were there a long convoy of slaves being transported in this place—his gaze locked onto rows of slaves, huddled in chains within cages. The cages held not only the prisoners but also pots and cups of food, more suited for serving beasts than people. All looked at him in terror, and something within Wei twisted in disgust.
Slavery, he realized, was not a position but a manifestation of debauchery and depravity—something he could not stomach. With a flick of his spear, he carved through the cage door, and suddenly a burst of hope and life ignited in the eyes of the boy. The child rushed forward, attempting to embrace Wei, but the young master stepped aside.
“No,” he said. “I will burn, and you need to be away.”
“Where, where?” the boy insisted. “Take me with you.”
Another urgent message flashed into Wei’s eyes: “We don’t have time for this, Wei. We need to leave. Remember the job. Don’t complicate things.” The young master froze, and then he saw his father emerging from a nearby shadow. The carriage was nowhere in sight, yet Wei’s omniscience could feel it latched onto William somehow. His father’s eyes were urgent and commanding.
Wei looked at the other prisoners in the cages and let out a sigh. With a casual flick of his pale fang, a sweeping strand of lightning jumped from one cage to another, shattering the bolts that held them closed. It cost him some Essence, but it was a price he could recover in the battle to come.
“Free yourselves,” Wei called out. “Fight for yourselves. Spite the heavens! Damn the hells!” And he began to run. Although he could have done more, he knew that staying might allow the collectors to catch up to him—and he would pay with more than his own life. Once more, Wei charged upward, preparing to meet the onrush of demons, even as his Omniscience lingered on those he had freed. The boy chased after him, wielding a halberd too large for his small frame, gasping and pounding his feet in pursuit of freedom. Soon, more slaves emerged; rather than waiting or watching, they plunged into the fray, following the warpath he left behind.
***
The Collectoress stared at a clean hole that extended beyond her nest of lust into the city, out through another distant building, and doubtlessly toward several sinners. She turned and regarded the Duke of Pride with a slightly annoyed glare.
He offered but a shrug. “Well, it wasn’t my fault.”
“Not your doing,” the Collectress said in a low, venomous tone.
“Someone must have twisted my Skill,” the Duke continued, suddenly finding interest in his fingers. “My Skill is a single thing of destruction. It goes straight. It doesn’t diffract or bend. If I had to guess, we’re dealing with someone with quite substantial skill—perhaps something listed under energy redirection or channeling, or potentially even a portal of their own, though I doubt that should have survived it.”
The Collectress wanted to vent her anger at him, but her thoughts froze. Yes. What kind of foe could survive a direct attack from a Duke of Pride?
A loud, wet sound splashed behind them. Both the Duke and the Collectress turned. There, they saw that girl—Agnesia of Dawnrest. She was glaring at them, covering in blood and simmering with black flames. On her face was a disappointed sneer, and as she pointed down, the Collectress saw a smouldering form of a Lust Demon. “This thing attacked me. I thought it was supposed to be yours.”
“We had… an intrusion.”
The Princess just glared. And an uncomfortable feeling swelled inside the Collectress. She was just about to start interrogating the girl for her potential part in this. But an attempt on her life…
“I think I want to go back to the Gala,” Agnesia seethed. “Because your security and safety has proven to be absolute shite.”
