Death Healer

The sun shone brightly over the Citadel.

Elysium was in his room, reviewing the equipment on his bed before placing it in his backpack. He had two Everlasting Torches that he had stolen from his parents’ storage room—they would keep everything illuminated down in the sewer.

He also had some low-grade Health potions—not that he needed anything more than low-grade, since he didn’t even have a Class. The [Templar’s Constitution] he had gotten from training with his parents for so long definitely put him far above the physical fitness of, say, Lily, but he was still far from an actual classer who had access to actual Stats.

Elysium surveyed everything thrice before biting his lips and trying to man up to do what he had to do.

They are just rats. Just stupid, stupid rats.

Still, he hesitated. Lily had said she had to train, and he knew what that meant: her parents had probably slapped her ass red. That’s what his parents would do if they were home from the frontlines long enough to know what he had been up to.

He looked at the corner of his room, where a small trinket lay at rest: it was the wooden sword he had first received from his father. It brought him fond memories of him smacking around bullies, bugs, and even that one adult that bothered Lily – he got it in his unspeakables.

Elysium swallowed, walked up to the wooden sword, and brought it back to his backpack, fastening it to its side.

A lucky charm, he thought to himself.

…

Elysium looked around the sewer entrance hidden behind some buildings—this was the same one they took with Lily last time. It was the only one without a lock. Someone had broken it, or maybe someone forgot to do their job. Anyway, it was the only free entry to the sewers.

He surveyed the dingy, narrow alleyway for a moment longer before shouldering his backpack with a grim resolve. His eyes lingered on the rusty ladder leading down into the sewer, barely visible in the dim morning light.

They are just rats. Just-rats.

Not just that, but if he wanted a chance to catch up to Lily and the baddie she was going to marry, he needed the rats.

So, he began his descent, feeling the cold, slimy surface of the ladder under the calluses formed from thousands of hours of practice with his sword.

As he descended deeper, the sunlight from above dwindled, completely swallowed by the inky blackness of the sewer. His heart pounded in his chest, but he pressed on. He needed the levels: not only were his parents expecting him to be strong, but, again, how else would he… How would he…

He felt his heart tighten.

There was something he hadn’t told Lily about why he cared so much about them doing this together.

She’s getting too strong.

Elysium wasn’t only after his parents’ recognition; he was after Lily’s friendship. And he felt that the real reason she didn’t want them to be friends anymore was that he was not strong enough.

The boy sighed as he took out a torch – the light from outside was barely enough to see where his feet were. The air was filled with the smell of decay and filth, possibly even stronger than during his last visit.

As he lit one of the Everlasting Torches, the darkness immediately receded. He fastened the other torch to the other side of his backpack in case this one went out or fell out of his hand—it was unlikely, given that it was Everlasting, but he didn’t want to risk it.

Cautiously, he began his trek through the winding sewer tunnels. Every splash of his steps echoed and distorted off the tunnel walls. There were a bunch of sounds he had not noticed the first time around that were now making him jump out of his skin.

Without Lily’s healing, I need to be extra careful, he thought. One moment later, he tried to cheer himself up; she’s going to be stunned when she finds out how many skill levels I’ve been grinding down here.

A sudden squeak rang through the air behind his back. Immediately turning back in the direction of the sound, he saw a rat glaring at him, its red eyes gleaming menacingly in the torchlight. It was one of the big ones.

The rat had barely bared its sharp yellow teeth at him, and Elysium was already on top of it. His lunge ended with a quick stab at the monster’s throat, partially parried by the rat’s claws and finally ending up in its chest.

The rat snapped at him, but Elysium had already leaned back. He feinted with his torch and saw the rat hesitate at the sight of the flames. But Elysium didn’t hesitate and immediately activated his skill.

[Templar’s Hammercut]

He tore the rat’s throat open and was left panting hard, feeling his muscles strained but immediately being rewarded with the familiar sound of a skill level-up.

[*Ding!* Skill - Templar’s Hammercut level 22!]

He took a deep breath and leaned against the grimy wall for a few seconds but realized something right after.

Darn it, Lily’s not here to cast [Cleanse] on me. ARGH! I’ll have to sneak into a public bath.

He really, really missed Lily.

…

Elysium had just made short work of two fast rats and chugged a Stamina Potion before moving on.

As he moved deeper into the sewer, his heart pounded harder against his rib cage, the only rhythm breaking the eerie silence. Holding his sword with a white-knuckled grip, he ventured further. Suddenly, his boots squished against something soft and pulpy underfoot. He jumped back with a grimace, realizing it was a rat—dead and bloated. Its dull eyes stared blankly into the nothingness, mirroring his own fear back at him.

Suddenly, he felt an ominous wind blow through the sewer – the same terrible sensation he had felt the first time he was here with Lily.

The Everlasting Torch immediately went out. He rushed to get the other one out and running before any rats, or whatever monster was out there, could jump at him.

“Darn it!” He cursed for the umpteenth time as his trembling fingers grasped the torch.

The ominous wind seemed to be getting closer, stirring the stale, rotten air around him and sending a wave of nausea sweeping through him. He forced himself to focus, moving his shaking hands as he frantically searched for the flint in his backpack.

All the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Even the rats, he realized, had gone quiet. The previous skittering sounds that could be heard through the echoes of the tunnels had completely disappeared.

He could sense something—something big and dangerous—lurking in the shadows.

As he rustled in the backpack, he finally brushed against the flint’s cool metal. With a swift strike against the Everlasting Torch, hundreds of sparks flew. Once, twice, thrice he tried, the echo of the striking metal reverberating in the tunnel.

The darkness was almost unbearable now, the wind howling through the sewer like a ghastly lament. It was as though the very shadows were closing in on him. Elysium’s heart hammered inside his chest, his breath hitching as he gave the flint one last desperate strike.

And then, a small flame sparked life on the tip of the Everlasting Torch. A relieved sigh escaped his mouth as he carefully nursed the tiny flame, feeding it until it grew into a brilliant orange glow that held the darkness at bay. As the light spread around him, the ominous wind abruptly stilled, its chilling whispers dying away as quickly as they had come.

Elysium’s heartbeat eventually slowed, and he took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. The terrifying sensation had disappeared as though it had never been there at all. Only the stillness of the sewer and the reassuring flicker of his torch remained.

I should go home…

He picked up his backpack but frowned.

“Where is the…”

His wooden sword had disappeared.

Elysium looked around, shining the torch around, even above the sewage water, and panicking.

No! No! Where is it?! Where is it?!

He kept searching his surroundings frantically. The torch’s orange glow danced off the damp, mossy walls and the murky water, casting long and wavering shadows that seemed to jeer at him in his moment of panic.

Then, he steeled himself, determination taking over.

I need to find it. I must have lost it a few intersections back. I can’t go home without it!