Undead Lord of Gluttonous Pride

"What's with them?"

Damien asked as he pointed towards the undead royal guards. After they had left the room they were in, they both stumbled upon the four who lay battered, almost like they had been in a battle that posed a threat to their lives.

Howrah stared at them before snorting:

"When they brought you here, they were intercepted with that damn group I told you about."

"Group? Are they that powerful they were able to leave them like this?"

Zasir was without an arm, completely making his skills with the bow useless. Yuk and Kuy, the twin skeletons, were both missing a jaw. And Grathry, while he isn't as injured as the rest, seemed to look more tired than he usually looks.

Howrah shrugged and then said:

"This is the difference in power between someone who can and can't use soul energy. Fortunately, they were able to take out half of their members before escaping with you on their back."

"How big is the gap?"

"Relatively as big as a rabbit and a pig."

"That's... a weird comparison..."

"... it's big. That's all you need to know."

"I see... could you perhaps explain to me why it's so hard to control my energy?"

"It takes practice, my boy... but it is strange that your default is always blasting it out into the surroundings..."

Howrah rubbed his chin before snapping his fingers. At the sound, the four got up from their resting place on the floor—their backs completely straightened, and their eyes focused on Howrah, who smiled.

He then turned towards Damien and said:

"Are you ready to go out again?"

Damien widened his eyes. Go out again? He had just gotten back after surviving an encounter with a Blighted. Not only that, but he was also low on soul energy.

"Shouldn't I wait until my energy is at an optimum level?"

Howrah just shook his head at that.

"As long as you keep them around you at all times instead of sending them off, you'll be fine. Just continue killing off the wolves, and you'll be fine."

"What if that group comes for me then?"

"... Then try and survive. Use those four as a distraction to escape."

Damien nodded solemnly, his hand unconsciously moving towards his sheath... Which wasn't there...

He then saw something being brought to him from the corner of his eyes. It was his sheath attached to a belt. He raised his eyes to Zasir to hold it up to him; he gave a soft smile before taking it off his hands and equipping it onto his waist.

"Thank you."

After putting it around his waist, he stared at the book in his hand and wondered about how he could put it on as well. On the other side of his belt was a small metal hook.

 As if Howrah could read his thoughts, he opened a rift in space and pulled out a brown leather sack—which was then offered to him.

Taking it off his hands and stuffing the sack with his book, he tightened the mouth with the rope that came with it and hung it on the hook.

He then turned back to Howrah.

"When should we depart?"

"Right now."

"How unreasonable of you."

Damien chuckled before strolling over to the large two, dark wooden doors that weighed a lot. Fortunately, they didn't have to pull it open, as a gap was already in between the doors.

Just as he was about to leave, he suddenly remembered something and turned back at Howrah, who had already turned his back on them.

"Howrah, I suddenly began hearing whispers. What is the reason for this?"

Howrah—without turning around—responded:

"Merely the effects of the Whispering Fracture; don't worry too much about it, and try not to overuse your core again."

After getting the answer he wanted, he bid farewell to the old man and left.

***

The group hopped across the roofs, their focus always on their surroundings, especially the undead. It seems with their run-in with the group, they had grown to be slightly more cautious of their surroundings.

Damien noticed something as soon as he got out; the air felt heavier and perhaps... evil in some way. He looked around and noticed the dark fog hanging just above the houses, which seemed to have decreased in size a bit.

Not only that, but it also seemed to have become a lot lighter in colour—a lot less concentrated compared to before.

What could this mean? With all the information about the weakening, the sudden appearances of Blighteds, and the group that attacked the four undead... was something happening behind the scenes...?

Howrah, who was still back at the cathedral, was cackling to himself like the madman that he was. His body swayed around inside the room, which was littered with paper—he was dancing out of pure joy and excitement.

Scribbles of words and pictures covered each and every single one of them. All of these, through several red strings, led to one high-quality picture of an old man with an impressive jawline.

"KehehaHAHAHA! It's starting... IT'S FINALLY STARTING!"

He swung his head to the sky and started spinning around in a circle. His arms raised high over his head. Excitement coursed through his veins quicker than his blood travelled.

"Just you wait, Rager Ironclad! I will have you return that stone to me if it's the last thing I do!"

He madly grinned, exposing every single pale yellowish tooth of his to everything around him. Fortunately, no one else but him was there to see it.