Void Spawn - A litrpg adventure fantasy

As the radiant light devouring Irvel village faded, the encompassing darkness of the night seized the sky once more.

What was left of the plaza after the explosion was nothing short of dire. The huts situated near the center of the village were reduced to ashes and ruins, along with a crater several inches deep.

A slight tremor resonated through the rubble as Samael's hands plunged out of the debris.

His grunt reverberated as he cast aside the earth, wood, and pillars pinning him down. Slowly, he crawled out of the destruction left behind by the explosion.

He leaned back, a pained groan escaping his lips. The explosion didn't just kill the Necrons; it also swept him off his feet. If it weren't for his armor, he would be ten times more fucked than he already is.

Samael's gaze shifted down. My armor is badly damaged...

The steel plating on his torso was left with deep gashes, while parts covering his arms and shins were no less torn.

Shallow wounds were etched on his skin, along with bruises dotting his body. Fortunately, it seems that the damage only got that far.

A resounding sigh escaped his lips. He was tired. But there's no time to rest.

Rising to his feet, he dusted himself as he traversed his way towards the center of the crater.

Will this work? He wonders.

He raised his hand in the air, his palms wide open.

"Devour," he uttered.

The cold night wind billowed wildly, wafting through his disheveled hair and stirring the dust.

Specks of Void matter swirled through the air as they flocked Samael mercilessly, coiling in his arm as they seeped within his skin.

He could feel the dark matter flow through his veins, strengthening his muscles and, at the same time, replenishing the energy he had lost in his previous clash.

As the last specks of the Void matter faded, a blue glow bathed his visage.

A wide grin formed at the corner of Samael's lips, his eyes glimmering in glee. He thought that he could only absorb the essence of creatures he killed with his own bare hands, but it appears that's not the case.

"Proceed."

"Show me," Samael commanded.

Samael's breath hitched, his eyes jolted wide. A wave of strength resonating within him.

I went up by 2 tiers! He thought.

His stats took a massive leap as well. It rose by 12 points!

He felt as though he coated himself in Void Augmentation twice, and he's still in his base form!

Just how much stronger did he get?

He shook his head, ridding himself of unnecessary thoughts. Now is not the time for celebrations.

Samael's eyes darted back and forth, scanning over the horizon.

It seems that the destruction only decimated the plaza and didn't cause that much damage to what lies beyond. The houses and huts the villagers used seemed safe and stable enough, and the raging flames have now died out.

However, a lone thought still lingers in his mind.

Where did the Necrons come from?

He saw no damage done to the towering walls of Irvel village, nor did he see any signs of forced entry within its gates. So how did the abominations enter? Did the rift open within the village?

Codex, how do I trace a rift? Samael asked.

The Codex went dark for a moment before another panel warped in front of him.

Tell me Samael commanded.

...By enhancing my senses?

The method given by the Codex isn't something he can accomplish with haste, even with his gifted senses. He barely sensed the Kunilors that laid an ambush for them, much less a rift in space.

"Unless..." Samael muttered under his breath.

By internally manipulating Void matter to shroud his throat and mouth, he was able to strengthen his voice and even lure the enemies to him. But it also comes with its own risks.

He injured his throat, opting him to cough blood and rendering his voice coarse for a while. Besides, he barely knows anything about the internal manipulation of the Void element.

Fortunately, he has the Codex.

Codex, show me my skills Samael instructed.

Come to think of it, what does innate or Gnosis mean? Samael asked.

I see Samael thought.

It seems that by internally manipulating Void matter to coat his throat and mouth, he's able to develop a skill. Does that mean he can also use the same method to develop his senses? If so, what parts of his body will he enhance?

His aim is to track and trace the locations of the rift. If he remembers correctly, Ajax said that debuffs cause energy fluctuations they can track. Do rifts work the same way?

There's only one way to find out.

Samael closed his eyes tight, his figure still as a calm lake. The wind gently stroked his skin, along with the dust stirring under his soles.

A familiar warmth surged within Samael, swirling inside his mortal vessel and forming a sphere of Void energy.

Clenching his jaw, a grunt escaped Samael's lips as the sphere of Void matter dispersed in multiple directions.

Again.

He condensed the void matter once more, resonating with the dark matter as he guided it. Carefully, he evenly distributed the energy, attempting to shroud his entire being in its protective embrace.

However, he failed.

The energy dispersed once more, billowing out of his skin in the form of an onyx-dark steam.

Am I doing something wrong? Samael wondered as he guided the energy once more, only to fail before completion.

Is my Void control weak? Then how did I succeed before? He asked himself.

He managed to enhance his voice earlier, but he seems unable to accomplish the same task now. Is he missing something?

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Samael's eyes widened.

His void control is indeed as weak as he is now. What he's trying to accomplish is foolish at his current level. He succeeded before because he focused on one thing and one thing alone. His voice.

Shutting his eyes for the last time, Samael conjured another sphere of Void energy, delicately guiding it towards his ears.

He considered enhancing his vision, but straining his eye sight is a high-risk gamble he isn't willing to take.

A lone bead of sweat meandered down his forehead, the warmth of the Void matter flowing in his veins.

Samael's head perked up, a click whispering in his ears.

Wha— Samael's thoughts were cut short, a wince resounding from his lips.

Everything felt heightened. The sound of the wind dancing along the sky, the bellowing dust, and that subtle humming in the air

Wait... humming? Samael's eyes jolted open, his gaze darting back and forth. Yet what greeted him was the same crater and what was left of the explosion.

Am I hallucinating?— Samael's words ended abruptly once more as another wave of humming noise in the air.

Maybe not... He thought.

However, something is bothering him.

The humming noise had no source. It was everywhere.

That can't be right, Samael thought.

If this noise is indeed the energy fluctuations of the Necron rifts, then shouldn't it lead him towards the location of the portal?

"This is Lesson 5: Observe."

Samael could still vividly remember the words said to him by Ajax. To observe.

And to observe he shall do.

The Necrons didn't pass through the gates, nor did they tear a hole through the towering walls. That means the rift either formed in the village itself, above or...

"Underneath it," Samael muttered, his gaze shifting down the brown earth.

It makes sense; the humming noise pestering his ears was basically everywhere. Which only means the rift lies under the ground.

"Void Augmentation," A streak of dark matter coiled through his feet as they descended with unparalleled ferocity.

A thundering boom reverberated in the air as Samael's foot drilled a hole through the solid ground, cracks marring its surface as it collapsed to the chasm below.

Samael swiftly dashed back, nimbly avoiding the fall. His gaze fixated at the darkness below where rifts stained crimson sat idle.

The tears weren't large, but they were numerous. Counting everything, they numbered in the dozen.

That's why there were so many of them, Samael thought in exasperation. It turns out they didn't appear above; rather, they crawled up.

Still, wasn't it unusual for a rift to spawn below the ground? His knowledge regarding this topic is too lacking to form a cohesive conclusion. It almost looked like they were vines.

Codex, do hives spawn below ground? He asked.

A blue screen warped in front of him, bathing his face in its incandescent glow.

The earth convulsed, sending violent tremors shaking under his soles. Samael lowered his stance, barely avoiding a stumble.

He jerked his head back, spearing a glance south.

What was that? Samael wondered.

With Void matter coating his feet, Samael's figure blasted forward, fading under the ethereal glow of the moon.

***

An hour ago, back in the southern forest...

Ajax's chest rose and fell akin to a boat stranded in the middle of a storm, his breathing deep and ragged.

The battle has dragged on for a while now; Ajax estimated it's been around six hours since the start of their confrontation.

His ethos is nearing its limit after their collosal clashes. The forest was long gone, mutilated into nothing but dirt and decay.

Normally, he wouldn't have the trouble of fighting for hours on end, but Antrax was an enemy far beyond what he's capable of. It's almost as if the abomination had a limitless supply of Ethos, constantly dishing skills one after the other.

At this point, Ajax's only hope lies in Igram, his shadow spawn.

Igram is a unique shadow spawn. He eats a lot of Ethos, but for a fair payback.

The longer the battle drags on, the stronger Igram gets. Not in the physical sense, but in the battle sense.

Igram has a unique adaptation skill called "shadow dance" which enables him to copy and adapt to the skills of the enemy. However, it does indeed take time, as Igram has to study the shadows of Ajax's adversaries in order to grasp the techniques.

But, once he does, he's able to replicate these techniques and, in turn, also allow Ajax to use them as he is his shadow. It's a somewhat upgraded version of his copy skill.

This also means Ajax has a chance to formulate counters.

Ajax tightened his grip, the lone blade nestling in his palm. The battle must end soon, or else hell will break loose.

Streaks of shadow tendrils latched on his blade, swirling within the sharp steel edges of the weapon.

Igram grasped his claymore, hanging it on his shoulders. His gaze locked at Antrax.

The abomination stood up, its face contorted with rage and exasperation. With a snap of his fingers, a mass of flesh gushed out of his body, mending to form another arm.

A grunt escaped Ajax's lips. He has regeneration as well.

Things weren't looking good for him. But no matter, the battle must go on.

Ajax delved through the shadows along with Igram, the trail of dark smoke surging towards Antrax.

"Puny insects!" Antrax roared in rage, his arms lashing forth.

A burst of murky green matter jetted out of his hands, soaring in the air as they banded to form a collosal palm.

"Shatter!" Antrax bellowed, his hand descending with wrathful fury.

A tendril of shadow coursed forward, drilling through the dirt.

"Shadow jump," Ajax muttered, his figure swiftly teleporting through the other end of the tendril.

A reckoning explosion thundered behind him, followed by a whipping shockwave and splinters of earth.

With a forceful kick to the ground, Ajax darted forward, closing the distance between him and Antrax.

Antrax's maws fell wide open as they glew green in hue.

"Rot miasma," Antrax said, his jaws spewing a wave of green matter.

The green matter devoured all it touched, warping them to nothing but decayed versions of themselves.

Ajax took a sharp stop, his figure nimbly avoiding the rot miasma.

"Shadow sling," Ajax uttered as elongated protrusions latched off his arms. With a flick of his wrist, they burst forward, clutching tight to Antrax.

Ajax dug his foot into the ground, a grunt escaping his lips as he ripped his arm back, dragging Antrax along.

"You—!" Antrax's words were cut short as Ajax snatched his head upon collision, smashing it against the ground with a thunderous boom.

Brownish-red blood trickled down Antrax's lips, his face quivering in pain. In retaliation, he pointed his fingers forward.

"Decay bullets—"

A foot connected with Antrax's jaws, sending him flying back.

Imgar ascended from the shadows, his claymore nesting in his shoulders. With a strong thrust, his figure zoomed forward.

Antrax landed in an explosion of dirt and stones, his jaw weaving in unnatural directions.

In the corner of his eyes, a dark figure darted towards him.

Imgar threw a wide slash, his blade drawing an arc in the air. Antrax threw his arms forward, erupting two bone walls in rapid succession.

The earth shook as Imgar's blade hammered the bone walls. Antrax's arms trembled under the recoil.

With haste, Antrax roared "Bone jaws,"

Imgar's dark visor shifted down as he hurriedly dashed away.

From the ground, a set of bone jaws erupted, nearly tearing Imgar's leg in the process.

"I'VE HAD ENOUGH!"

"Sub space: Plague infestation," Antrax uttered.

Ajax's eyes widened, his astral compass screaming of danger. A threat he has never faced before.

Shit! He thought.

"Shadow cocoon!" Ajax countered, his shadows latching unto each other as they formed a dark cocoon.

Ajax withdrew Imgar back to the safety of the miniature dome, his eyes fixed on the abomination.

A surge of green energy lashed in rage, devouring and destroying everything near it. As the earth decayed, so did the last remaining trees.

Ajax grunted as he struggled to keep the barrier up against the harrowing effects of Antrax's subspace.

A subspace is a skill a saint gets once they reach enlightenment. It's a zone that harbors the elemental capabilities of your power. If Antrax does indeed possess a subspace, then that means he's a bonafide saint.

Blood meandered down Ajax's visor.

"Shadow bones," Ajax casted, copying the skill Igram stole from Antrax.

Layers of black bones erupted forward, blocking the stream of energy from consuming them.

However, cracks soon marred its surface as it began to splinter to pieces.

Damn it! Ajax cursed inwardly.

What can he do?

Is there anything he can do?

He himself is an enlightened rank individual, but he's been stuck there for years. Suddenly breaking into Saint rank might give him the chance, but a slim one.

But how will he surpass his bottleneck? His ascension trial has yet to come.

Without it, he was nothing.

Ajax felt his grip weaken.

He was tired. Too tired.

But why does it keep appearing?

Why?

Why is it that whenever he closes his eyes, he sees that abomination in his memories?

It had died years ago!

He killed it, killed it with his own hands.

Yet, the memories remain haunting him.

He wants to rest. To let it go. He's been fighting for too long.

Has anything really changed?

As Ajax closed his eyes, it began again.

Roars. Yes, it kept on echoing, mixing with the banquet music.

He still remembers the fear he felt then. Tha blood curling pit in your stomach.

It struck from the shadows, slaughtering the guests one after the other.

Ajax could still hear their begging and their pleas.

Buckling under the weight of the subzone, Ajax wanted to cover his ears as voices began to thunder in his head.

"How could you do this to us?"

Again.

And again.

And again.

Without stop.

It was deafening.

What did they do to deserve this?

Ajax felt his body lose strength as the cocoon began to crack little by little. His aqua blue eyes dulling every passing second.

It was time to go now.

As Ajax felt his consciousness dim, his eyes caught a silhouette.

Snow.

He hated the snow.

It brought nothing but painful memories.

Hunger.

Cold.

Death.

Yet...

Why do I see you now?

Before Ajax's pupils stood a boy, alone in the middle of the winter. His feet buried inches below the thick snow as he held the end of his clothes, his hand had long numbed from the cold.

The boy looked at Ajax.

He could not discern the look in the boys eyes.

Was it sadness?

Was it fear?

What was it?

Ajax gritted his teeth as that familiar heat began to burn in his chest. That same emotion that kept pestering and feeling him.

Hope.

"Igram!" Ajax roared.

The shadow knight shifted his gaze towards his master.

"Observe, learn, and adapt his subspace!" Ajax commanded.

The shadow fell still for a moment before giving a stiff nod in return. It had qualms with its master decision, but he cannot question him. His master's will is also his.

Imgar speared a glance ahead, precisely within Antrax's shadows.

And so his adaptation began.

However, Ajax must persist until the end. Until Imgar has learned. He must stand steadfast against the pain and destruction. Or all will fail.

As he looked upon the abomination, time seemingly almost slowed down.

That smell of decay, he knew it well.

It was the one stench winter couldn't drown.

He had run from it again and again yet where did it lead him?

Back here.

That wall he could not surpass, that bottleneck that kept him from advancing further...

It was him.

Antrax.

He must face his past.

One of decay and sickness.

He was his trial.

Ajax's body trembled as he cast bone walls in rapid succession, his ethos depleting at a rapid pace as he sustained his shadow cocoon tirelessly.

Time ticked down; every second and every minute felt like an eternity. An endless river of torment.

But Ajax persisted. He stood against Antrax, a saint—an abomination way beyond his league. And he shall not fail now.

"87%," Ajax muttered under his breath, his voice coarse and subtle. He was nearing his limit.

Ajax's knees buckled, plummeting down the ground with a loud thud. Yet his arms remained in position.

"91%," he said, his vision dimming.

He's close—too close to losing consciousness now. Not yet, no.

Ajax's body shook, blood trailing down his armor.

"96%..."

Ajax's left arm fell limp, devoid of strength. His breathing shallow.

Will he meet his demise this way?

Is this the end of the line for him?

Looking back, he's lived a pretty shitty life.

His family loved him, took great care of him, and cherished him. Yet he couldn't do anything for them, as they lay upon that winter night.

He could still vividly remember that stench of decay and the hunger he felt. The scent of iron lingering in the air, and the unnerving silence of that night.

At the early age of 14, he became an orphan, an orphan no one wanted because of those greedy pigs.

What hurt more was the fact that there were many like him. Sitting by the side of the road as you die of starvation.

He wonders. Does weakness deprive you of the choice of how you wish to die?

At the age of 19, Ajax joined the Watchers, where he faced countless harrowing trials just to survive. He had to watch his comrades come and go while the people tell him it's a part of the job.

Eventually, as the deaths piled up, his heart completely died. To save himself from the pain, he chose to forget.

Was he so weak that he chose to escape from the very thing pushing him forward?

He sees himself in Samael. A boy who has gone through many things But despite the stark difference between them, Samael chose to strive forward instead of buckling under pressure.

Yes, he reminded him of that boy in that fateful winter night.

Will he run away again?

"99%..."

No, no more.

Perhaps it is time to feel again.

And so—

he will rage...

This world can burn with him.

"100%..."

Antrax's chuckles filled the air, a wide grin tugging at the corner of his lips when a pulse swept over the surroundings.

Antrax's smile faded, his eyes quivering in confusion, realization, and disbelief.

Another pulse of energy soared forward, stirring the dust in its wake.

"This... This can't be..." Antrax muttered in disbelief.

The pulses came one after the other, each time more prevalent than before.

"He's ascending..." Antrax said.

"NO—" Antrax's screams fell deaf, overshadowed by Ajax's voice.

"Subspace: Shadow Nexus."