Interconnected: Spliced Souls

And so, a day passed while I spent time with the goddess. The stranger was insistent I was part of a scheme to take out this underground slave market.   

But I honestly knew nothing of it. We could infer, however, that the group was large. If the man’s words could be trusted, that was. 

When I woke up in that same forest, it was again in the dead of night.   

And now it's been about 96 hours since I've seen my friends… 

Like before, I sped to Canary while dressing in a replacement pair of overalls. I just had one more pair of boots left after this. If I perished again, I'd have to stop and steal some clothing lest I want to fight in my birthday suit.   

As if it was a prophecy, I found the stranger sitting at the location of the third den, but he wasn't alone. He was with a short, stubby person who also wore a disguise that made it hard to make out their features. The stranger spoke to my murderer as if he was a rabid dog on the verge of death. His voice was harsh and foul, like lumps of coal were stuck in his windpipe.   

“Welcome back, my dear Servi,” said the one that had killed me twice. He looked to his companion. “I have seen her perish twice, yet she refuses to remain a corpse.”  

“Servi?” I asked, alarmed and shocked. I could just tell my murderer was grinning like a fool.   

“A young woman with red eyes, especially one that wears a crimson ring, is most extraordinary. It was not hard to do even the smallest amount of research. You're an amnesiac– one without any memories. You woke up near the forest four hours away. You encountered a man named Simoine and his group, which you killed shortly before meeting the Queen of Night, Nimyra. You're a guest at the Crimson Grotto, but you voluntarily left. Before that occurred, you attempted to illegally enter Canary by climbing the city walls, where you were caught by Siora, a Wing Elf, and Tim, a koena. According to the reports, you leapt from the wall in an attempt of an apparent suicide, yet you survived without major injury and took to the slums to hide.”  

“...”  

“Shall I continue? I am worried about your memories. Perhaps dying over and over like some sickened mutt will erase the scant few memories you’ve managed to cascade deep within your mind? Or, and this is more likely, your memory story was fabricated bullshit, and you're a scout sent by the group wanting to destroy the underground slave market. Shall I remark about Momo, a singi who was hired to teach Srassa about the guild? To act as her friend and protect her until she can become independent? I'm of the right mind to divulge the truth about you. I'm sure they won't believe it until I cleave your head from your body a few dozen times.”  

Without speaking, I rushed forward and tried my hardest to get within five feet.   

But goddamn, it was impossible! This time, my murderer threw two red pebbles and drew a sword from thin air, conducting it a baton. The pebbles morphed into what I could only describe as living armor.   

Silently, I sent a dozen shadowy bolts of malice towards his back. In a flash, my murderer used their sword and cut them down without breaking a sweat as the seven-foot-tall golems pinned my arms behind my back while forcing me to my knees. “Ahh, Puppet Master. Your living armor has only grown over the past decades. It truly is a work of modern art. How shameful it is that you've spoken out of line to our dearest lord,” said my murderer.   

I could absorb them, but he's probably expecting that. I just know he has another trick up his sleeve, so maybe I should stay my hand and try to get some info. Maybe I can learn something.  

“But don't worry, dearest undead,” continued my murderer. “I've no real intention to cause harm to the status quo. The Queen of Night brings in more money than you could ever imagine, and the Flynn family is vital to Lando’s economic conquest. Disrupting that goes against my orders. I dare say you were lucky in crafting the relationships you have forged in the short time you were here.”  

“You sure you aren't giving up too much info? That mouth of yours is pretty liberal. It's not as tight as I once thought it was,” I remarked, faux struggling against the living armor. “I'm pretty sharp, so don't be surprised when I deduce who you are under that mask.” My murderer just shrugged me off with a wave of his gloved hand.   

“Your master… He… Hehehe…. Sssnnniccjkk…. Name? Itarr, yes?” snarled the short one. He was shaped weirdly. “I study it too, see? Hehe!!! Hehehehehe!!! Come!! Come!!! Rise, my pretties!!!” He retrieved a dagger with a crystal skull on its pommel from his hips and stabbed his thighs. The crystal steadily filled with dark crimson, and he held it into the air once it was full. 

The eyes glowed a deep, verdant color. 

“[Summon Zombie]!” Cackling green energy shot from the skull to the ground, where a decayed humanoid-like being clawed through the dirt to stand upright. It hobbled slowly towards the short one and waited for an order.   

“A disgusting monster for an ugly monster like you. Is that supposed to impress me? Seems kinda weak.” A [Stone Pillar] erupted underneath the zombie and split it in half. A secondary piece broke off and sped towards the short man, but it smashed into an invisible barrier or something and shattered like glass, sending brown dust whimpering to where whence it came forth.   

The necromancer threw a tantrum and used [Summon Giant Zombie], causing four towering undead abominations to claw their way out of the ground, which drained the dagger’s skull. He watched with glee as I allowed them to tear me apart.   

They ate me alive, tearing off flesh and chunks of bone that they brought to the necromancer. The necromancer jabbed their hands into what once belonged to me and scraped and prodded my insides.   

Yeah, it hurt, but was the difference between this and having exploding worms blast me from the inside?  

“Secrets?! TELL ME!!’ TELL ME HOW?!?!?! HOW CAN AN UNDEATH BE AS COMPLETE?! How are you speaking eloquently?! I DEMAND TO KNOW TO FURTHER SUIT MASTERRRR!!!!! WHY ARE YOU NOT DECAYED?!?!?!?!”  

I spat towards him and grinned, even while half of my face was getting gnawed. “Why don't you go fuck yourself, yeah? Kill me or not, I'll return in a day. Consider yourselves fucked because I won't stop until I have you writhing underneath my boots.”  

“Oh my, it seems your mouth is more threatening than anything else.” My murderer turned to the necromancer. “Is that enough? Or do you need more?”   

“MORE!!!! MORE MORE MORE MORE!!!! HEHEHEHEHE!!! TAKE IT CUT IT SLICE IT BREAK IT SHATTER IT GIVE ME THE WARM FLESHINESS!!!! Kakakakakakakakakkaka!!!!!” The necromancer broke into a mad fit, stabbing himself multiple times and using the collected blood to raise another dozen zombies that took pride in ripping me apart and splitting me down the middle.   

But this was a ploy as a plan surged into my mind. The screaming? The shouting? The horror erupting from my throat whenever it was healed enough to support screaming?  

It was to draw them in…  

When the time was right, I focused and used [Shadow Shot] and [Stone Pillar] to destroy the zombies ripping me apart, sever my limbs, and launch myself towards the two cladded bastards like a rocket.   

My murderer was experienced enough to warp away, but the other? He may have had something preventing me from killing him, but [True Absorption] didn't care about what was inside that barrier.   

“BACK AWAY!!! GET OUT OF THERE!!!!” uncharacteristically screamed the worm-filled bastard, losing his cool, calm, and collected personality for a split second after the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He tried to use that restraint skill, but the shining orb materialized in his hands too late.  

“Kekekekekekke! Hahahahaha– Such a stupid, stupid, stupid minion failed to kill– Ehhhh? Daaagerrr?”  

“Good luck without this, you sack of shit!” I shouted. Right before the tentacles broke my neck and fractured my limbs by violently pulling me back, that dagger was just within my range to stash it within my ring. “You'll never, ever, ever see this again. Hahaha!!!”  

My murderer killed me yet again, but it felt more personal. The glowing tentacles and explosive worms took far longer to torment my body before I felt the sweet relief of temporary death.   

But this time?  

I had the advantage.   

---

“I'm sorry, Servi, but I cannot feel anything from this. It feels just like another weapon,” said Itarr while I waited for my body to regenerate. She explained it would be a day, so here I was, waiting again around the fountain. The dagger sat between us.   

“It isn't special?” I pricked my finger with it and waited for the skull to fill.   

But nothing happened. I tried it again, this time carving my thigh, but it was no dice. Blood refused to flow into it, and my wounds healed like normal. 

“[Necromancy] isn't lit up like the others.” Itarr was messing with my phone to see if there was anything else she could do. “The skill isn’t active. Is there an additional requirement?”  

“Maybe,” I replied, putting the dagger down. “But here's this. That man knows [Necromancy]. We'll learn it after absorbing his soul, right? I just have to find and kill him.”  

“Will he still be there?”   

“Yeah,” I nodded. “This dagger has to be a catalyst for [Necromancy]. It might even be specifically created just for him to use that school of magic. He might have a spare, but that's baseless conjecture without any reliable facts to support it. But our enemies will want to have this back. They're under the impression that I'm some lich a necromancer named Itarr has raised from the dead.”  

“That's not entirely inaccurate, right?”  

“For the most part. But they don't know you're a goddess. If they did, they would've reacted when I dropped your name. And they don't know of [True Immortality] or [True Absorption].”  

Killing them was the problem. And there was that barrier around the necromancer. 

It was a stalemate. I couldn't kill my enemies, and they couldn't end me. But this draw would have to be broken. The problem was discovering a way to do that.   

“What about that group they think you’re with?”  

“What? You think they might have a way to kill them? I mean, it’s possible. If they’re going to attack this underground slave market, they have to be ready to encounter any opposition. I just don’t understand how my murderer knew about [True Absorption]’s range. Unless he has a warning skill. Maybe a sixth sense?” Itarr didn’t know if that was a thing. Ultimately, we just decided to find that mysterious group.  

Until my body was ready, Itarr and I spoke about how the mysterious stranger knew so much about me. If the success of Lando was his master’s or lord’s primary goal, he wouldn't disrupt that by revealing the truth about me to my friends and companions. It would sew discord. And the more people that knew a secret, the more likely it was one of them would slip up, tell someone else, and within a few short weeks, it would be pretty much common knowledge.   

They wouldn't dare want word or rumor of an immortal girl roaming around with ties to some group threatening to wipe out some underground slave market.   

It would be the epitome of foolishness to even spread that around to a handful of trusted allies. The payoff wasn't worth it when you took the downsides into consideration. 

---

To Itarr’s and my surprise, this regeneration only took about four hours, which meant there was still plenty of time for me to act before sunrise. I joked that the forest was a second home because I'd been here so many times while speeding off towards Canary via [Air Dance]. Really, running above the ground on platforms no one could see was thrilling and refreshing, especially with how fast I could go.   

It didn't take long to get to my shed. Inside, I crouched and grimaced at the filthy grimace staining my bare feet.   

I'm out of boots, so I gotta deal with it. Good thing I have some clothes remaining.  

I began to speak, laying out the facts we knew for sure. I just found it easier to work through logic by talking to myself.   

My murderer had intelligence suggesting an attack on the underground slave market was imminent.   

My murderer incorrectly believed me to be a lich. 

The group’s location was unknown. If my murderer knew, he would've told me so to brag, or he would've said he'd already wiped them out.  

What could I deduce from that?  

The group probably wasn't within Canary. The powerful people my murderer mentioned likely had access to the city’s building plans, including what wasn't constructed and what was just partially built. They also probably knew where the vast majority, if not all, of the underground passageways were at.   

But where would they be outside Canary? It would have to be close unless they wanted to tire themselves out traveling to the city before starting the assault.   

Then by sky? No. All would have to be capable of flight. The guards on the walls didn't spot me because I was too fast and high up. The further you went up, the more energy you needed to expend to maintain.   

But gliding was another story. Was there a place tall enough to glide from? Did gliders even exist here?  

Then what about underground? Go deep enough, and you wouldn't have to worry about detecting vibrations. But the heat was an issue. And while it would take great, monumental effort to excavate a tunnel, it could be possible.   

Sky.   

Land.   

Underground.   

Which was more likely?  

There was really only one way to find out. I told Itarr we were going to the guild. But first, I needed a disguise. Something like a cloak to hide my face and shoes to cover my feet. A change of clothes would work wonders, too.   

The only place that came to my mind was the store where Srassa bought me my clothes. I crafted another blood crystal– this time in the shape of a heart-- and walked outside. Once I was high in the sky, I merely walked until I was above the shop and dropped like a rock, slowing down with vertical walls of pressurized air I leaned against. [Air Dance] could be used for more than mere stepping platforms.   

It was silent, and the guards didn't even think about looking up.   

I hopped off the roof, recovered in a roll, then dashed around to the side and crouched.   

“Itarr, when I get close to the door, absorb it. And when we leave, put it back up. You're better than me, so I'll leave it to you." 

Understood. I'm ready when you are! 

I waited for the patrolling guard’s footsteps to get as quiet as possible and made my move. Dashing around, I charged at the door, which vanished on cue, tossed the blood crystal to the counter, and quickly absorbed the shirts, pants, boots, and head scarves.   

The break-and-entering lasted four seconds before I bolted through the open doorway, only stopping for ten so Itarr could put the door back up the correct way. Right before the guard turned around, I leapt into the sky and danced away as my goddess cleaned my feet and put my new boots on. There weren't any hoodies, but I had enough scarves to wrap around my head like a mummy’s bandages.   

So, the clothes situation was taken care of. Now with a disguise in hand to hide my face and eyes, we landed in a dark alley near the guild and walked the rest of the way. Luckily, Claire wasn't working.   

“Kinda late, don't you think?” asked the sleepy-eyed Bullkin behind the desk. He lazily rubbed his horns and yawned. “Burning the midnight oil?” 

“Are there any mines nearby?”  

“Mines? You got the Lucoa Mines about four hours north of the village. But it's been shut down for a few months.”  

“Why?”  

“You haven't heard?” I shook my head. Apparently, a few months ago, an earthquake occurred. It sealed the entrance and all the miners inside. The company that owned it performed a rescue attempt, but they quickly determined it was too hazardous to proceed further with it because the entire mine was deemed unstable.  

And the one who owned that mine?  

Duke Parrel Biggins, leader of the Canary Duchy. It almost…almost felt like things were falling into place. I didn't know why, though.   

When I turned to leave, the employee warned me to stay away because I could die.   

Ignoring him, I went outside until I was alone, then took to the skies with [Air Dance] until coming to Lucoa Village. The mines were four hours to the north, but the specific location was very vague. I eventually found it hidden deep in the heart of Lucoa Forest, right near the cusp. The trees here were massive and out of control. Even the leaves seemed to shiver with murderous intent as I landed with a roll, recovering in front of the mine’s former entrance as I stashed my headscarves.   

It was completely caved in, so unless there was a secret way in…  

Suddenly, I heard a branch break and turned around. There were two people running towards me– both wore cloaks with the hood pulled down over their faces. One held a yellow mushroom, and the other a black bag.   

[Flash Snap]!” The one with the fungus snapped their hands, causing a very bright light to blind and burn my eyes. Unable to see, I felt one shove the mushroom in my mouth while the other covered my head with the bag. Their momentum brought me to my back. One of the two sat on my stomach and squeezed my throat as spores clouded my windpipe and esophagus.   

I went ‘unconscious’ and pretended to black out after faking a struggle. I was still very much awake, however.   

“I told you we should've been more careful!” said a feminine voice.   

“It isn't our fault. We've done nothing but stick to the shadows the entire time! There's no way we were followed!” replied a masculine voice. It was hard to tell if they were wildkin or not. But they almost sounded… ‘proper’ and distinct.   

Maybe they were Elvish? And what about the language? The words' pronunciation felt elegant and refined, but I still understood them. Itarr had a skill to grant me a master's understanding of any language, but that didn't mean I could speak it.  

On that topic, I didn’t know how I could communicate with Momo and the others in the first place. Perhaps splicing my soul with Itarr had an effect, but that raised more questions. Just why was it this language? Was it the common tongue? The skill was a prototype, so the only explanation was that it granted me fluency in the first language I heard after obtaining it.  

I didn’t know if that was how it worked. And Itarr didn’t know, so I couldn’t ask her.   

“Then someone snitched! Cousin, that's the only–”  

“Shut up, cousin. No one we brought along would turn us over to the enemy! I won't hear another word of it! When she wakes up, we'll have to interrogate her. Get her legs. I got her arms.”