Unranked ascension a lit.., p.18
Unranked Ascension: A LitRPG Adventure, page 18
Can you explain this, System?
The magical potential responsible for the birth of each mythical being cannot be created or destroyed. It can, however, be bound.
What does that mean, exactly?
The potential has become an extension of your own soul, bonded to you at birth, and will obey your commands. If you do not wish to continue the bond, simply destroy its physical body and it will return to a condensed form.
You mean kill it?
Correct.
The way the tiny bat had clung to his shoe and fallen asleep against him, finding comfort even in the dirt-encrusted tip of his sneaker, weighed on Lucius. He thought about how it seemed to trust him implicitly, calling him Father and placing its life in his hands the moment it was born. When he imagined himself harming it, he couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose and quickly shake the thought out of his head.
Well... I’m not doing that, Lucius decided.
Bonding the magical potential to himself had been an accident, but the creature had done him no harm. It felt awkward hearing a creature he just met call him father, but that was no reason to harm it. Lucius decided to wait until the creature awoke before thinking about it any further.
Turning away from the remains of his dead foe, Lucius walked back toward the ruined church. He spent a moment finding the area where he had last seen Matriarch’s Fury and began digging through the debris until he saw the sharp red spike of the words handle sticking up out of the pile. Reaching down, he pulled the blade free, lightly dusting it off with his pants.
Lucius examined the vicious short sword for a few moments, casting his gaze past the needle-like tip and down toward the purple and red spiked handle. The weapon had served him well so far, and now he had an opportunity to upgrade it further. Lucius focused his attention on the item to prompt its description from the System.
Matriarch’s Fury: Short Sword, Quality [Rare]
This weapon will never dull. Created with the rare magical material Proboscis of the Swarm Mother and further enhanced by an item upgrade token, it has miraculous penetrating power and is imbued with the Swarm Mother’s ability Leech Life.
Leech Life: 0.15% life stolen per hit.
It was his most important [Rare] item, which meant that using his [Rare] upgrade token on anything else would be a huge waste. He only hesitated for a moment before tightening his grip around the handle of the sword and activating the upgrade token with a thought.
A flood of glowing sparks materialized in the air around him, flowing toward him from all directions. The already sunlit clearing became brighter from the multitude of small lights. There were far more this time than when he had first created the sword. As the magic coalesced onto the item, it grew hot to the touch—so much so that Lucius was forced to place the sword down and take a step back to watch the process unfold. The patch of leaves beneath it sizzled and burned, but the damp ground prevented the process from setting the forest ablaze.
The upgrade lasted a full five minutes, and Lucius could tell even through the glowing lights that his sword had grown a bit larger.
As he waited, he sat down nearby and took out a med kit from his storage ring, then began the process of cleaning and bandaging his chest. After cleaning the wound with bottled water, he taped down some gauze to cover it up and put on a fresh shirt. The magical glow of the sword dissipated a few moments later. Taking a few sips of clean water before putting it away, he stood up and walked over to the weapon.
Looking down at the item, the only difference he noticed was that it had become slightly larger and the colors seemed more vivid. However, the magical aura of the weapon was clearly much stronger than before. Taking the handle firmly in his hand, he lifted it off the ground and swung it back and forth a few times, noticing immediately that something felt different. Eager to understand the changes, he prompted the System.
Matriarch’s Fury: Short Sword, Quality [Extraordinary]
This weapon will never dull. Created with the rare magical material Proboscis of the Swarm Mother and further enhanced by multiple item upgrade tokens, it has miraculous penetrating power, is imbued with the Swarm Mother’s ability Leech Life, and deals additional magic damage with each strike. Training with this weapon will increase the speed at which the wielder learns the art of the sword.
Leech Life: 0.25% life stolen per hit.
Magically Enhanced: 20% additional magical damage with each strike.
Expert Blade: The Sword Fighter talent gains levels more quickly while this sword is in use.
Chapter 39
Camp
Lucius looked up at the setting sun—daylight was fading fast. Rather than risk traveling back to the farmhouse in the dark, he decided to find a place to camp for the night. Turning west, he held his breath as he stepped over the invisible boundary between the church clearing and the forest, only relaxing with a long exhale when his body passed through without incident.
“Phew…”
He cast one last glance at the now-ruined clearing before turning away and heading into the forest. The air had begun to cool with the setting sun, and each crunch of leaves beneath his feet sounded unnaturally loud in the growing stillness around him. With a rough sense of where the nearest farmhouse lay, he moved westward until he found the dirt road that would guide him to his destination.
He followed the road until he reached a mailbox marking the start of a narrow driveway, nearly hidden between dense walls of forest. Lucius stepped onto the winding path and followed it until it opened into a clearing, where a modern-looking log cabin stood at the center. A neatly stacked row of firewood lined the front yard. Lucius grabbed a few of the best-looking logs and added them to his storage ring before heading toward the cabin’s front door.
By now, the sun had vanished behind the distant horizon, and the final traces of light were quickly fading from the sky above. Lucius tried the doorknob first, but when he found it locked, he tightened his grip until the mechanism gave way with a sharp crack. He pushed the door open and watched as the handle fell to the floor with a clank, then rolled across the room.
“Oops.” He chuckled, a wry smile tugging at his lips as he stepped into the dark cabin. He had some experience picking locks, but it was a slow, tedious process—and far less satisfying than simply flexing his superhuman strength. Sense Danger hadn’t issued any warnings as he approached the door, so the place was probably safe. Still, he decided to check each room, just to be sure.
Lucius moved past the shattered door and made his way toward the wood stove. He’d seen the chimney from outside, so he had a rough idea of its location. As he walked through the dim cabin, his gaze drifted to the photos lining the walls: a man in a red flannel shirt and jeans chopping wood; a small red-haired girl blowing out birthday candles, surrounded by friends and family; a family portrait of the man, the girl, and a short, brown-haired woman who bore a strong resemblance to the child—almost certainly mother and daughter.
“Where are you all... Are you still alive, somewhere?” Lucius muttered as he gazed up at the wall.
He let out a sigh and stepped away from the photos, heading toward the wood stove. A small pile of starter logs sat beside it, so he grabbed one and placed it inside along with a few pieces from his storage ring. With a bit of effort, the fire caught, and a warm, flickering light spread through the room.
Once the flames were steady, he pulled a candle from his ring, lit it in the fire, and rose to his feet. Using the soft glow of the candle, he began exploring the rest of the cabin.
In the kitchen, he found signs that someone had lived here after the Abyss monsters invaded. A dozen or so empty food cans were scattered along the countertop, each with a dirty plastic spoon still sticking out—like little flags of despair marking just how desperate the last occupants had been. The cans were coated in a light layer of dust, suggesting they’d been undisturbed for at least a week, maybe longer.
Lucius rummaged through the cabinets, searching for anything worth keeping. Pickings were slim—only a few unopened bottles of spices made the cut. Any food that had once been there was long gone.
He did a quick sweep through the bedrooms, expecting to find nothing—and wasn’t surprised when that expectation proved correct. Returning to the comforting warmth of the woodstove, Lucius pulled a can of soup from his storage ring, popped it open, and set the metal container directly on top of the iron stove to heat.
While the soup warmed, he slipped off his backpack and carefully unwrapped the bundle of clothes cradling the small, sleeping mystical creature. He placed it gently beside the stove, letting the heat from the fire spill over it.
The flames felt good in the chilly night air. Some of the logs must have been pine, because soon the sharp but pleasant scent of burning resin replaced the cabin’s musty, damp odor. Lucius watched the fire dance and crackle, the occasional pop of damp wood breaking the quiet, until he saw bubbles rising to the surface of his soup.
“Good enough.”
Lucius cracked open one of his new spice bottles—a vivid red cayenne pepper—and sprinkled a few dashes into his soup. In his opinion, spicier was always better.
He was about halfway through his meal when he noticed movement from the pile of clothes in front of him. The little bat stretched out its winged arms, arching its back with a deep yawn before sitting up and rubbing its face. Once it seemed satisfied that the sleep had been thoroughly wiped from its oversized eyes, it lowered its claws and turned to look up at Lucius.
“Father... I’m hungry.”
The same childlike voice he’d heard in his mind the first time the creature spoke echoed again, soft and familiar. Lucius narrowed his eyes as he stared back, a grin tugging at his lips as he scooped a chunk of meat from his soup and held it out, nodding toward it in offering.
The little bat scrunched its nose at the meat, shaking its head and crossing its wings in front of its chest with a defiant huff.
“Don’t want.”
Lucius shrugged as he stuffed the chunk of meat into his mouth. “Well, I’ve got some beans and a couple apples... Oh, pickles too.”
“No, no, no.” The bat closed its eyes as it shook its head from side to side in sync with each word it spoke.
Lucius furrowed his brow as his head tilted down toward the creature, looking at it for a few seconds before shaking his head. “Well you’re out of luck; that’s all the food I’ve got.”
The little bat stared back at him for a moment in thought, before turning its head to glance around the cabin slowly. It raised its tiny nose into the air and sniffed deeply a few times before its eyes shot open wide as it stared off into the darkness, toward one of the bedrooms.
“I want the human child, the one under that bed!”
Chapter 40
Maryanne
Lucius stared down at the mythical creature, the message it had just sent still tumbling through his mind. It took a few seconds before the meaning finally clicked.
“What?” he blurted out.
Turning toward the darkness, Lucius’ own eyes followed the tiny bat’s gaze toward the bedroom—only to see a sudden glow of purple light rising from the corner of his vision. Glancing back down toward the purple light, he saw the bat’s eyes glowing with an eerie violet hue. At the same moment, the shadows around him stirred, shifting like creatures roused from a long sleep. Before he could blink, half a dozen of the shadows slithered free from their resting places and darted into the cabin toward the bedroom.
The abrupt motion of the shadows snapped Lucius out of his stupor. His eyes narrowing into slits as he looked down at the bat with a stern expression.
“Don’t hurt the child... Just bring them here.” He ordered.
The purple light in the creature’s eyes flickered for a moment at the command. It scrunched up its nose with and frowned, letting out a quiet grumble that quickly disappeared when it saw the growing frown on Lucius’ face. With a defeated expression, the purple light in its eyes continued to dim until it was barely visible, then the bat waved one wing casually in the direction the shadows had moved, before slumping back down grumpily into the warm pile of clothes beneath it.
“Please no! Mommy! Daddy! Help!”
Lucius heard the desperate cries of a child, followed by the sound of something being dragged across the cabin floor. Moments later, a small figure emerged—child-sized and wrapped in writhing ropes of shadow—struggling helplessly as she was pulled into the light.
Now that she was close, Lucius recognized her as the same girl from the photos scattered around the cabin. She looked frail and disheveled, with heavy black bags sagging beneath her young eyes. She couldn’t have been older than five or six. Her hair was a matted tangle of neglect, and her clothes looked like they hadn’t been changed in over a month.
The girl screamed and thrashed, biting at the shadows that bound her, fighting with what little strength she had left. But her movements were sluggish and uncoordinated—every motion weighed down by exhaustion. It was clear she was suffering from severe malnourishment and neglect.
The shadows dragged the distraught child into the warmth of the fire. Her small teeth bared aggressively at Lucius as her tears carved rivers through the dirt and dust on her face.
“Hey, calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.” Lucius held his hands up and tried his best to appear non-threatening. Hearing the words, the girl stopped trying to bite at the shadows and looked up at him, her body shuddering every few seconds from hiccups after such intense crying. Her desperate gaze darted back and forth warily between Lucius and the tiny creature near the fire but quickly stiffened as her eyes locked onto the can of food sitting on the floor not far away. Her mouth swung open as she stared at the can like a hypnotized snake, chest rising and falling heavily with each breath.
“Let her go.” Lucius calmly commanded, then picked up the can of beef stew and slowly moved it toward the girl as the shadows receded from her trembling form. When she flinched away from his outstretched hand, he gently set the can on the floor in front of her and returned to his seat.
The child wiped the tears from her eyes, staring at the can as if it were a treasure. She sniffed the air a few times, the scent of the hot meal making her stomach clench. One hand gripped her shirt over her belly, and after a final wary glance at Lucius, she surrendered to her hunger.
She sat down beside the can and began scooping large spoonfuls into her mouth, barely pausing to chew. The oversized bites made her hiccup and choke, but she didn’t stop. Even as she coughed violently, she plunged the spoon back in, shoveling hot stew into her mouth between gasps for air.
“What’s your name, girl?” Lucius gently questioned.
“Ma... hic Mar—” She coughed, a small chunk of potato flying out of her mouth. “Maryanne.” She spat the word out quickly, trying to avoid another interruption.
“Nice to meet you, Maryanne. My name is Lucius, and this is…” He looked down at the bat for a prolonged moment. “What is your name, by the way?”
“You never gave me one, Father.”
Maryanne looked up from her meal, wide-eyed at the shiny purple creature.
Noticing her expression, Lucius asked curiously, “Can you hear him too?”
The girl nodded at the question without moving her eyes away, her fear slowly being replaced by a childlike curiosity as she continued staring at the bat.
“That’s interesting. I wasn’t sure if other people would be able to communicate with him, but I guess that question is answered. Would you like to help me give him a name?”
Maryanne turned to look up at Lucius eagerly when she heard the suggestion. She nodded quickly, then scraped the last drops of stew from the can and licked her fingers clean. Leaving the empty can behind, she moved closer to the bat and slowly and gently stroked the soft puff of fur wrapped around its neck. The trio sat silently like that for a short while, the only sound that could be heard was the soft chirping of insects that drifted in from the forest around them. With the warmth of the woodstove, the hot food in her belly, and the cute purple animal beneath her fingers, Maryanne’s body finally relaxed. Her breathing steadied, and the lingering hiccups subsided. The silence was only broken when Maryanne decided on a name.
“His voice sounds soft in my head, like a whisper. I’ll call him that.” Maryanne smiled as the bat rolled onto its back, urging her to rub its soft belly. “Hello, Whisper.”
The bat rolled its head lazily in Lucius’ direction as it enjoyed the massage. “Is that my name, Father?”
“Well done, Maryanne. It’s a fitting name.” Lucius gave Whisper a nod as he pulled a bottle of water out of his storage ring and handed it to the child, before asking the hard question that had been at the forefront of his thoughts since they discovered Maryanne, “Can you tell me how you ended up here all alone, Maryanne? Where are your mom and dad?”
Maryanne’s smile slowly faded away as a fresh pool of wetness begun to glisten under her eyes. She quickly wiped it away with her dirty sleeve and continued to stroke Whisper’s fur as she spoke.
“Mom and Dad were here with me when the monsters started hurting people. We stayed inside to be safe, but we ran out of food. Dad went out to look for something to eat, and when he never came back, Mom went to look for him.”
“How long ago did your father and mother leave, can you remember that?”
“Um…” Maryanne raised the fingers on her free hand, carefully counting. “I think... six days since Mom left. I don’t know for Dad, it’s been too long.”, Maryanne looked up at Lucius with her dirt-covered face, now wet and smeared from all the crying, “It’s really scary being all alone, could you help find them?”
Lucius carefully hid his clenching fist from the young girl’s view, as he fought to keep the sudden flood of emotions from showing up on his face.
