Soulless Soul

Chapter 78: No Turning Back

Instantly.

And that raised an important question. A mechanical query that could drastically change how he progressed onward within the bounds of the Dungeon Array.

Could these Soul Gems really be kept somewhere off of the Array? Could they be made as physical objects, or were they strictly a digitized measurement trapped within his consciousness? Sky stared at the number once more.

Probably not. The rune was frustratingly stagnant, providing no sub-menus or conversion commands to siphon the numeric value off of him in favor of a physical medium.

If they were created exclusively through his kills and immediately used to boost his soul, then they really weren’t considered currency by the system. They were more akin to direct raw energy injections, formatted by the system to seamlessly mesh into his spiritual matrix without his overall core collapsing under the influx.

He couldn’t save them for later no could He trade them.

And there was no method to earn them via missions, services or selling monster materials. The traditional economy of the Awakened guilds-the entire complex market of trading dungeon assets, bartering crystals and contract farming lower floors-was entirely severed from this specific aspect of his power.

If Sky wanted to grow stronger... There was only one certain way. A law that ruled every single breath he took within the confines of these narrow stone corridors.

Fight.

Kill.

Grow.

Sky sighed, a large cloud of white vapor escaping his lips in the damp morning air. "No peaceful life for me, I guess." The romantic prospect of a quiet, unassuming existence on the upper sectors was an illusion he could no longer afford to entertain. He was tied to a wheel of everlasting conflict, forced to hunt simply in order to maintain the baseline of his own existence. He shook his head and continued walking, the squelching sound of his boots in the gray mud.

After a while, he glanced back at the corpse of the Savage Beast. Before the dark particles could completely dissipate and scatter into the perpetual gray fog, his gaze flicked over the massive, shattered frame of the arachnid.

His expression twisted slightly. The cold, logical side of his mind-the part that prioritized cold survival metrics over human squeamishness-began to calculate his immediate biological needs.

There was still one thing he could make use of. The remnants of his victory provided a primitive solution to a much more immediate problem than status points.

The creature’s body.

"Well... this isn’t going to be pleasant."

Sky approached the corpse and crouched beside it. The sickeningly sweet stench of the glowing azure blood was overwhelming at close quarters, filling his mouth with a sharp metallic tang to set his teeth on edge. His stomach, however, didn’t care about the odor. The monstrous, hollow gnawing inside his core exploded into a frantic sequence of cramps, demanding fuel to replace the large amount of spiritual stamina Sky had expended in his final, desperate clash.

After some effort, he managed to pry open the cracked sections of its thick carapace. He nestled his fingers in a fracture line caused by his previous strike and utilized his enhanced physical strength to peel back a massive sheet of stone-like chitin.

The process was messy and unpleasant, a wet, tearing sound echoing off the narrow walls as he tore through, but he managed to eventually cut a few strips of tender, pink meat off of the deep under-flesh of the spider’s shoulder assembly.

He didn’t hesitate. Driven by a primal, terrifying impulse that felt entirely alien to his human past, Sky forced himself to consume a small amount of the raw, azure-soaked meat in place in the dirt. It was tough, stringy and burnt like liquid fire as it slid down his throat, the moment it hit his stomach, however, a wave of relief washed through his system. The agonizing emptiness was sated into a dull, manageable hum. The unnatural thirst that had parched his throat for hours was instantly quenched by the dense, fluid energy within the creature’s muscle fibers. His changing physiology hungrily absorbed the alien nutrients, molding it directly into physical stamina.

He wasn’t about to waste food in a place where survival depended on preparation.

Then he remembered something else. An asset that every conventional Awakened valued above all else when clearing a high-danger zone.

Sky dug deeper into the creature’s remains, his hand plowing through the fading internal membranes until he found a radiant crystal embedded within its central chest cavity.

A Gem.

He pulled it free.

The crystal glowed faintly in his palm, a perfect, multi-faceted geometric structure that pulsed with a clean, stabilized resonance entirely different from his own volatile crimson aura. Sky remembered how other Awakened were supposed to utilize these things and attempted to absorb it. He closed his eyes, focusing his mind on the crystal’s surface and trying to draw the raw mana through his skin pathways in the traditional manner taught by the academies.

Nothing happened. The energy remained trapped behind the crystal lattice, completely indifferent to his intent.

He tried again, forcing a thread of his own crimson energy to wrap around the stone to crack its shell.

Still nothing.

Sky stared at the crystal for a few seconds before sighing, his lips slimming into a straight line of mild disappointment.

"They’re really of no direct use to me." The standard progression loops of the world did not interface with his anomalous Blessing. He couldn’t digest standard dungeon stones any more than he could use standard skill scrolls.

He tucked the gem away into his belt pouch, reasoning it might still have bartering value if he ever managed to locate Chloe or find a merchant guild representative, and gathered the remaining strips of harvested meat.

Using strips of black vegetation growing along the labyrinth walls-a tough, fibrous vine that had the tensile strength of weathered rope-Sky fashioned a crude rucksack and placed his supplies inside. He slung the makeshift pack over his uninjured shoulder, adjusting the weight until it rested securely against his cloak.

Then he looked toward the distant light above. The dim, charcoal-gray fog was beginning to shift slightly, indicating that the baseline timeline of the lower sector was moving forward.

The day was still young.

If he hurried, he still had a decent chance of reaching the hill before sunset. The strategic window was narrow, but the opportunity was still valid.

Unfortunately, his injured leg made that much harder. The grazing strike from the spider’s scythe-like appendage left a deep throbbing contusion across his thigh that grew increasingly stiff as the adrenaline completely left his system.

The wound wasn’t serious, his systemic defenses had prevented the blade from cleanly severing the muscle tissue, but every step sent a dull ache through his muscles, a localized fire that flared with every single articulation.

Sky gritted his teeth, his jaw locking into a rigid line.

"Just keep moving."

He limped forward, weighing heavily onto his right side to minimize the tension in his injured limb. Hours passed. The passage of time became an abstract concept, measured only by the repetitive thump of his boots and the steady, agonizing progression of the pain in his thigh. With every step, the pain in his leg grew more noticeable. The swelling was increasing beneath his leather trousers, restricting his stride and forcing him to drag his foot through the stickiest patches of the black mire.

His body was already exhausted from the battle and his increased vigilance forced him to move more cautiously than before. He could no longer afford to stride blindly through the intersections, every single corner needed to be systematically vetted by his Soul Clone before his physical form crossed the threshold.

Sweat trickled down his face, slicing clean lines through the layer of dried mud and black dust that coated his cheeks.

His teeth remained clenched until his skull throbbed with a tension headache.

But he continued. He refused to permit his pace to drop below an acceptable survival velocity.

The deeper he traveled into the labyrinth, the more complicated its layout was. The simple repeating patterns he noted during the earlier phases of his trek vanished entirely, replaced by a chaotic, non-Euclidean geometry that felt intentionally designed to break a traveler’s sanity.

Paths twisted around each other like a knot of petrified serpents.

Corridors narrowed until his shoulders scraped against the rough, bone-shot stone walls before suddenly opening into massive, vaulted chambers where the ceiling was entirely lost to the heavy fog. Dead-ends appeared without warning. A line of advance that looked perfectly straight and promising for several hundred meters would terminate abruptly against a solid, seamless slab of black rock that showed no signs of structural seams.

Even with his Soul Clone scouting ahead, Sky constantly found himself having to backtrack after discovering that a seemingly promising route led nowhere. The clone would phase through a wall only to find a sheer drop into an unmapped abyss or a dense colony of passive dungeon spores that would detonate if a physical entity disturbed the atmosphere.

The labyrinth seemed to grow more tangled with every step, the walls closing in like a physical weight pressing against his temples.

Sky looked toward the distant hill through a rare break in the high corridors.

It still looked impossibly far away. The elevated terrain looked like a dark, unyielding monument that was mocked by the drifting purple mist, its base still obscured by kilometers of unmapped stone structures.

He tightened his grip around his Blood Blade, the crimson light of the hilt providing the only stable anchor for his vision in the darkening twilight.

"Come on..." He whispered the challenge to his own failing limbs, forcing his right leg to anchor his weight once more. He limped onward, swallowed by the deepening shadows of the corridor.

There was no turning back.

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