Crentist stood over Helia's corpse for a moment longer, his expression hidden beneath that featureless helmet, but his posture was somehow thoughtful. I knew better than to assume he was feeling anything—Crentist didn't feel, not the way humans did. He was a tool, a weapon designed for a purpose. And right now, his purpose was protecting me.
"We should probably," I ordered, turning toward the nearest exit. Crentist followed without question, his presence a constant, silent companion. As we made our way out of the ruined warehouse and into the streets, I felt the adrenaline begin to drain from my system, replaced by a gnawing sense of unease.
Helia had been powerful—far more powerful than anything I'd expected. But she had been vulnerable to Crentist's anti-magic aura, which was why we had won. What worried me was that if she had shown up here, in the Human World, then others like her could do the same. And there was no guarantee they'd all be as susceptible to Crentist's abilities as Helia had been. If anything, she might have been a scout, a precursor to something worse.
I needed more information. I needed to understand exactly what kind of threat we were dealing with. The fact that the System hadn't fully identified the nature of the rewards hinted that there was something it hadn't processed yet, something critical. I pulled up the menu and started a deeper analysis, focusing on the "additional rewards" the System mentioned.
Analysis Finished!
Additional Reward Unlocked!
New Unit Type Unlocked!
[Drukhari Incubi] x3!
[Drukhari Incubi (Standard Gear)] - An Incubus is an elite Dark Eldar warrior, most commonly seen in service as an Archon's retinue in the field; deadly and utterly fearless, they wield their gruesome Klaives in battle. Outside of combat, they act as personal bodyguards, protecting their client every second of the day.
Despite their penchant for backstabbing, any Drukhari unit you summon will hold absolute loyalty to you and you alone. So, don't worry about that.
[Ork Nob] x2!
[Ork Nob (Power Claws)] - Nobz are among the physically larger and thus more socially powerful members of the Ork race. Basically just a bigger, angrier, meaner, and stronger Ork Boy. These ones are armed with a Power Claw in one hand and a shootah in the other.
All Ork Units are still capable of passive growth and evoluton.
Pure knowledge surged through and into my brain. And I understood, immediately what my new units specialized in – at least, the basics of what they were capable of. The Drukhari Incubi were nimble and agile melee specialists, while the Ork Nobz were the muscle-heads on too much crack, protein, steroids, and alcohol. Nice. Having more bodies to throw at any danger that might come at me was always a good thing. I'd learn more about these guys later, when I was far from here. Breathing in, I eyed Helia's corpse a moment longer before shrugging. I turned to Crentist. "Get rid of the body. Come find me when you're done."
The Culexus Assassin nodded, though I figured getting rid of bodies really wasn't a part of their training, since these guys were trained to take down the sort of people whose deaths would be celebrated by just about everyone else. Still, it should be safe to assume that basic assassin training covered at least that. For now, I needed to go home and use up my new War Points for something.
Crentist bent down to grip Helia's body by the ankle, dragging her effortlessly toward a shadowy corner of the warehouse. I didn't bother looking back. Whatever method he chose to dispose of her corpse, I trusted that it wouldn't come back to haunt me. The Culexus Assassin was efficient if nothing else.
I pushed open the door leading outside, the cool and clean air washing over me like a cleansing wave. The distant sounds of traffic, the murmur of a city that never truly sleeps, filled the air. It was a stark contrast to the chaos that had just unfolded in the warehouse. I took a deep breath, feeling my heartbeat begin to return to normal, before I made my way back into the city. Good thing my clothes hadn't burned down or something, because that would've been difficult to explain – a few scratches and scorches here and there, but nothing too odd or obvious as to draw unwanted attention.
Thank Crentist for existing and thank my monkey brain for figuring out that buying an anti-magic assassin in a world that was apparently full of magic was a good idea.
I couldn't ignore the nagging sense of unease that still lurked at the edge of my mind. Helia had been strong, undeniably so, and had it not been for Crentist's anti-magic aura, I doubted I would have stood a chance against her. If others like her existed, others who might not have the same vulnerability to Crentist's abilities, then I needed to be prepared. I made my way home. And, as I did, the aftereffects of the battle slowly made themselves known in the form of tiny, annoying pains all over my body, bruises that would no doubt form in the morning. My hips and my back hurt like hell.
Not sure how I'd explain that to my parents, honestly, but I'm pretty sure I could just cover them up with clothes. Whatever the case, I reached my house without any issue. I even met a few school mates and acquaintances who just so happened to be walking down the road, many of whom I waved and smiled at. Forcing myself to not limp was more annoying than I thought. I went up my room immediately, since neither mom or dad were in the house, threw my dirty clothes into the basket of other dirty clothes, got a hot shower, cleaned up, and plopped down on the bed – and then stared at the ceiling for like half an hour, before I eventually pulled up the menu.
The War Points I'd earned from defeating Helia were a welcome bonus, but I needed to use them wisely. I scrolled through the list of available units and upgrades, considering my options.
Current War Points: 3500
There were always more units I could summon, more powerful beings I could call upon to bolster my forces, but considering the recent addition of the Drukhari Incubi and the Ork Nobz, I didn't think I'd need to summon more just yet. Instead, I needed tools and more powerful weapons. After all, the Laspistol barely got through Helia's shield and there was no telling if her shield was weaker or stronger than normal – at least, when compared to other supernatural creatures. I needed a weapon with more punching power, something that'd really hurt.
I scrolled a bit and grinned when I found exactly what I was looking for.
Tau Rail Rifle] - The Rail Rifle is a devastating Sniper rifle used by Tau Pathfinders as well as Sniper Drones. Using linear accelerators to launch a hypervelocity, trilium-tipped solid dart, the Rail Rifle is capable of mortally wounding even the larger Tyranid bio-organisms. In short, this weapon can penetrate just about anything and has fantastic range to boot. Costs 3000 War Points
Very expensive, but if the price alone was indicative of its superiority to the Las Pistol, then I definitely wanted it. The Las Pistol simply did not possess enough fire power to get through Helia's magic shield spell thing. It did plenty of damage when it did hit, which was nice, but I'd be dealing with a whole host of creatures that could probably summon the same sort of shield – or even stronger. So, I did not hesitate in purchasing it, which left me with 500 War Points, which I figured I'd just save up since none of the things I could afford with 500 War Points were particularly useful or interesting.
The [Stasis Cube] was kind of tempting, but also kind of superfluous – a lot of the items were like that, actually, kind of useful, but ultimately superfluous. The list of items that were available to me, I figured, included every single thing that existed in this Warhammer 40k Galaxy, including the stuff that'd be useless there. For instance, I already had an [Inventory] to put my things in, perishable or otherwise; I had no need for something like the [Stasis Cube].
With nothing else to do, I summoned the [Tau Rail Rifle] onto my grasp. My first thought was that it definitely hadn't been made by humans; the aesthetic was just different. So, my only conclusion was that it must've belonged to an alien race, which was freaking cool to think about, honestly. It was a lot lighter than I expected a weapon of its size would be. It wasn't unwieldy or awkward, either. In fact, it felt very natural in my hands. It didn't have a scope, however, or even an iron sight, which meant I'd have to manually aim the bloody thing. The fortunate part was that my [Tempestus Scions Training] very heavily compensated for what would've otherwise been a very difficult time. So, I could aim it without much trouble, but I had a feeling that this weapon was supposed to be used with some other device, probably some kind of built-in aiming tool that a lot of sci-fi races tend to use on their helmets.
About half an hour later, Crentist arrived, having performed the duty I appointed him. Briefly, I considered asking him just what exactly he'd done with the body, before deciding against it. I think I'd rather not know. With that, I sent Crentist back into my [Inventory], just to make sure that no trace of him existed. Besides, if necessary, I could just pull him back out with a thought.
Someone, I knew, was going to retaliate for the death of Helia. That was practically a guarantee at this point. Oh, I knew Crentist did a terrific job of getting rid of any evidence. No human being, without the aid of magic, would ever know of what occurred in that warehouse, but that was just it. Magic. Magic was the one thing I could not predict. And, because of that, it was entirely possible that, through some magical means, some devil wizard somewhere would figure out about Helia's death and, somehow, that devil wizard would also be related to her and swear revenge. That sort of thing happens enough times in real life, even without magic involved, that I was pretty sure, sooner or later, someone was going to give me shit for killing Helia in self defense.
Helena Stolas stared at the remnants of her aunt, Helia Stolas, and frowned. The Strays were all captured and sent back. The Sacred Gear user caught her attention, but they were common enough that Helena didn't care too much about capturing him immediately; all she wanted to do was monitor the human and see if he was worth taking. And now, her fucking aunt was dead. Very dead. Her whole head had been burned off – well, most of it had been burned off and all that remained were portions of her scalp. "What the fuck happened here?"
Her aunt was... not the strongest of Devils, but she was far from weak. Helia was, in fact, a High-Class Devil in terms of raw power and that sort of power wasn't anything to scoff at. Sure, Helia, like most members of the Stolas family, did not partake in the rating games or politics in general, but her power was undeniable. There should've been nobody in this entire city capable of defeating her aunt – at least, not without significant collateral damage. The odd part was that her aunt's death hadn't been through magic, because the only traces of the arcane Helena could sense in the air belonged to her aunt and that meant whoever killed her used purely physical measures, which was unthinkable.
The reason why purely-physical attacks did not work on most supernatural creatures is because of the existence of the kinetic shield, which was incredibly simple in function and would almost always fail at the simplest and weakest fireball, but could survive almost any physical force thrown at it, especially pure physical force, lacking even the tiniest hint of magic behind it.
And yet, as far as Helena understood, Helia's death had been through lasers.
Fucking lasers.
The Human Technocracy had no presence in Oregon and so she ruled them out, despite them being the only real suspects behind this crime. Humanity, in general, had not reached the point of being able to use the weapons they wielded in films. Oh, certainly, factions like the Technocracy possessed such technological wonders, but there also was a good reason why they did not share their creations with the rest of their race. Humanity simply was not ready to wield such power. Officially, the Technocracy was a neutral faction; they stayed out of anything supernatural and, in turn, the supernatural factions stayed away from them and their operatives, despite the occasional skirmish here and there.
The Devils most definitely had no quarrel with the Technocrats.
So, they were out – for now.
And that left her... absolutely clueless. Who could've done this? How could they have done this? The part that perplexed her the most was the absence of magic.
Beyond that, the attempt at hiding the body was... professional. Helena had worked with plenty of assassins before and this was clearly the work of one.
Helena's brow furrowed as she crouched down to examine what little remained of her aunt's body. The faint smell of scorched flesh still hung in the air, but it wasn't the typical residue of a fire spell. It was the smell of technology - cold, calculated, efficient. She reached out a hand and touched the blackened remains of Helia's cloak, the material crumbling beneath her fingers. Her aunt had been powerful, and a death like this... something so clean, so clinical—it didn't sit right with her.
She stood, the hem of her long, black coat brushing against the warehouse's dusty floor as she paced. Someone was capable of this, someone hiding beneath the radar of both the supernatural and technological communities. And what bothered her most? The precision. A High-Class Devil didn't just die like this. Helia wasn't invincible, but it would've taken something - or someone - special to kill her.
Helena could feel the rage bubbling beneath the surface. Her family wasn't particularly close, but family was still family. And more than that, this was a blow to the Stolas name. She couldn't let this go unanswered.
"Physical attacks," she muttered to herself. The possibility gnawed at her mind like a rat with a bone. How could someone break through a kinetic shield with purely physical force? Her aunt's barrier should have shrugged off anything that wasn't supernatural or heavily imbued with magical energy.
She stood still for a moment, tapping her foot lightly as she stared into the empty space where her aunt had drawn her last breath. The realization hit her hard, a bitter taste filling her mouth. It wasn't just the absence of magic - it was suppression. Magical Suppression was almost unheard of, but it did exist and it was feared by those who knew of it. But its sources were few – very few. Throughout the heavens, hell, and all the other realms, there were only five things capable of nullifying magic to such a degree as to render spells useless.
And only one of them was abundant enough to have been brought to fucking Oregon without anyone noticing.
She clicked her tongue in irritation, pulling her phone from her coat pocket and dialing a number she hadn't used in months. The line rang twice before a voice on the other end answered.
"Helena," came the gruff voice of Raven Dantalion, a long-time associate and fellow Ultimate-Class Devil. "Always a pleasure to speak with you, but I take it you're not calling to chat?"
"No," she said, her voice cold. "I need you to find out if someone – anyone – had the fucking balls to bring Dimeridium to America."
She paused, watching the last embers of her aunt's life flicker out in the debris. "And I want you to do it discreetly."
Dantalion chuckled darkly. "You know me, I live for discretion. Any specifics?"
"Assassins."
There was a pause on the other end of the line. Dantalion wasn't easily fazed, but even he had to take a moment when hearing that word. "Assassins? Ones with Dimeridium? You're talking about the kind of people you don't want to cross, Helena."
"I know. Just get me information."
"Alright, alright. I'll ask around, but you know the kind of heat this'll bring. If anyone catches wind-"
"They won't." Helena cut him off sharply. "Just do it."
"Fine. I'll have something for you in a few days. You be careful, old friend. Even Maou-level beings are afraid of Dimeridium for a very good reason; I'd rather not see you dead for getting a little too curious."
"Someone used Dimeridium to kill my aunt. Helia was a useless little bitch, but she's family all the same." She hung up and pocketed the phone, staring down at the scorch marks on the floor where Helia had fallen.
Her heart raced, anger and frustration boiling under her calm exterior. She didn't like feeling powerless - didn't like that someone, somewhere, thought they could get away with this. An attack on Helia was an attack on the House of Stolas, a Noble Bloodline of Pure-Blooded Devils. This was an attack on the entire family.
Helena wasn't the strongest devil in the Underworld. She wasn't even the most ruthless. But she had something her aunt never did: patience.
She smiled thinly. Whoever was responsible would pay. Slowly. Painfully.
But first, she needed to find them.
With a final glance at the remains, she turned on her heel and left the warehouse, her mind already running through the next steps. There was only one other thing that bothered her—the absence of any supernatural residue. Whatever had done this had been precise, yes, but the professional cover-up was what set her on edge.
"An assassin. But not just any assassin," she whispered to herself.
Dimeridium was, perhaps, one of the rarest naturally-occurring materials in all of existence. It was so rare that it technically had no market value. Helia wasn't special enough to warrant the use of Dimeridium against her. Helia wasn't fucking special at all – not even among devils, not even within her own family, actually.
And then her thoughts shifted, narrowed in on the one oddity - the Sacred Gear user. Could they have had something to do with it? The timing was too perfect. She clenched her fists as she walked into the night. The gears were already turning, and she wasn't going to stop until she had answers.
Helena would make sure of that.
With a flicker of thought, Helena summoned her crows, the demonic beasts appearing in a murderous cloud of black feathers and dark magic.
By default, all the guns I purchased from the System would never really run out of bullets. I wasn't quite sure how that worked, but that was exactly how it did work. Of course, to compensate for this overpowered little nugget, each weapon had a set amount of shots that automatically replenished within a few seconds, but would then enter into a long "reload" phase if I unloaded every single shot at once. That said, the replenishment period varied from weapon to weapon, with some happening instantly and others happening after a second or two. This kept things somewhat balanced, I figured, considering all the other wacky weapons that'd eventually be available to me. The [Tau Rail Rifle], for instance, had a total of ten shots and a short replenishment period of about one second – or five seconds if I sprayed every shot at once like a maniac. The [Las Pistol], in contrast, had a total of twenty shots with a replenishment period of like thirty milliseconds.
That meant I'd benefit more by conserving my shots. The [Tau Rail Rifle], with its ridiculous range and punching power, was best used as intended – one shot per second, unless in emergency situations, but – even then – the [Tau Rail Rifle], at best, could only shoot one shot every half a second, given its function as a kind of sniper rifle.
Those were the exact thoughts that went through my mind as I pulled the trigger of the [Tau Rail Rifle] and watched as the approaching Nurglite Zombie explode in a shower of green gore and steaming blood. Grinning, I waited for a second, before then firing on another, similarly breaking it apart. As the horde grew larger in response to the noise, I sent the [Tau Rail Rifle] into my Inventory and, instead, equipped my humble [Las Pistol], right before I went and sprinted off and jumped onto the ledge of a nearby rooftop, which had been about five meters away – a straight drop of about twenty meters in the gap between the buildings. Behind me, the Nurglite Zombies burst out of the windows and exhausts and doors, and just about everywhere else they could burst out of.
They couldn't get to me, however, and many of them died in the attempt as they fell off the ledge. I contemplated summoning Crentist and the other units I'd unlocked, but decided against it. I might've had plenty of combat experience in my head from the [Tempestus Scions Training], but I also needed actually learn to apply what I knew. And, in any case, this was the tutorial dungeon; there was nothing here that could threaten me as long as I didn't act stupid.
I breathed in and smiled. All things considered, I'd been here for like... ten hours already since I was shoved in this place and I was honestly still having the time of my life.
Alright, some context.
This morning, when I woke up, there was a sign floating right over my head. A question.
Due to your current progression, you have unlocked your first [Instant Dungeon]!
[Nurglite Dungeon] level 1 (Beginner)
Would you like to enter? [Yes] or [No]
(Warning: Once you enter a dungeon, you will not be able to leave until the requirements to do so have been met. You can enter any [Instant Dungeon] at any time, but only when no creature of sufficient sapience is currently perceiving you. Furthermore, time does not flow outside the [Instant Dungeon]. And so, no matter how much time you spend in one, it'll be as you never left once you returned to the world.)
I played enough games and read enough mangas to know what an [Instant Dungeon] was and how much of an advantage it represented. I did not hesitate and clicked yes. When I did so, the world warped around me and I immediately found myself sitting on a bench that overlooked some kind of park, but withered and empty, abandoned and covered in moss and odd pulsating growths; a putrid lake of boiling green water lingered at the center of the park, surrounded by bones and strange mushrooms. Withered, rotting trees sprouted from the blighted ground, shrouded by a thin veil of emerald mist. Tall buildings arose in the distance, themselves covered in moss, mushrooms, and other strange growths. I had no idea where I was, but I knew this wasn't any city I was familiar with, but I suppose it was designed to be generic and easy to understand; I knew, however, that this wasn't Earth.
Right, this seemed like it was going to be a lot of fun.
I blinked and stood up, and stretched my limbs when yet another message from the System appeared before my eyes.
Congratulations on entering your first [Instant Dungeon]. The rules are simple: every Dungeon has a set number of enemies that must be purged before you can progress further. This progression varies from one dungeon to another, but generally merely entails a boss fight, the danger of which depends on the level of the dungeon itself. After beating the boss – or main challenge – of the dungeon, you will be granted a choice between a Chest, which contains unique items not found in the store, or a major stat upgrade.
I raised a brow. Damn. A major stat upgrade looked really fucking good as the more of them I accumulated, the harder it became to earn more from training.
STR – 28
DEX – 20
VIT – 27
My stats weren't anything to scoff at, but I needed more. And, with what was probably coming after me, this dungeon was a freaking godsend. I needed the get stronger – a lot stronger than I was now. Bonus points from finishing [Instant Dungeons] were going to be so much fucking help in the long run.
A sudden low groan from a nearby bush alerted me. I turned, immediately summoning the [Las Pistol] in my grasp, and took aim. A sickly, withered, rotting human shambled out of the bushes, partially decayed and covered in fleas. A zombie – the basic enemy unit in any sci-fi or rpg setting. I raised a brow as the system informed me that it was apparently known as a Nurglite Zombie, specifically. Cool. I guess. Shrugging slightly, I pulled the trigger and erased its head with a laser beam.
And just like that, it dropped to the ground, a smoking stump between its shoulders. That was easy. But that was also the point. Zombies, in any setting, weren't strong on their own; their real strength was in numbers. And, as if on cue, my ears perked up at the sound of a rushing horde of Nurglite Zombies. Despite everything, I could not help but grin.
This was going to be fucking fun.
That was four hours ago.
As I watched the zombies tumble one by one from the ledge, I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed at how predictable they were. Clumsy, mindless, driven purely by that festering hunger in their decaying cores. It was a nice way to warm up, sure, but it was starting to get too easy. They were making this much simpler than I expected for my first dungeon.
I sighed and hopped down from my perch, landing in the middle of the street below with a soft thud. Instantly, the horde noticed me, their grotesque, bloated bodies jerking as they shifted direction. I could hear their gurgled groans and wet sloshing as they stumbled over each other, drawn to my living, breathing presence like flies to rotten meat.
"Alright, let's speed this up," I muttered, pulling my [Las Pistol] from my holster and letting it hum to life. I started jogging down the street, taking aim with pinpoint accuracy, dropping zombies with every squeeze of the trigger. Their heads popped like overripe fruit, green mist hissing from their decomposing forms as they hit the ground.
One shot, two shots... no need to panic. The [Las Pistol]'s replenishment rate kept up with the flow, giving me an almost uninterrupted stream of fire. Every time the weapon's charge got low, it would buzz for a fraction of a second, then it was back to full. It was rhythmic, efficient, almost therapeutic.
In no time, I'd cleared out a large chunk of the shambling horde. Their numbers didn't seem to dwindle though. For every one I dropped, two more appeared from the shadows or burst from the windows of dilapidated buildings. They poured out of cracks in the ground, squeezing through the gaps in walls and doors like some kind of revolting tide. Good thing I was a lot faster than they could ever be – stronger too. My tactic of leaping from one rooftop to another – or leaping from a rooftop and into an open window and vice verse – made things even easier. But, I didn't want things to get boring.
Time to change things up.
I stashed my [Las Pistol] back into the Inventory and equipped the [Tau Rail Rifle] again. The horde thickened, but this time, I wasn't going to play it slow. Lining up a shot, I squeezed the trigger and let the rifle's shot rip through dozens of zombies at once. The force of the impact sent their bodies flying in different directions, a spray of glowing, green blood marking the area where they had stood, even as their bloody remains plummeted.
I smirked. "Much better."
I kept firing at a steady rhythm, the [Tau Rail Rifle]'s power evident with every blast. This was a weapon made to kill something tougher than mindless zombies, meant to rip through the toughest armor and kill whatever was standing on the other side. Still, I had to be careful not to empty the entire clip in one go. The long reload time could spell disaster if I wasn't smart about it. Still, each shot was fucking satisfying, killing several dozen at a time. And, honestly, the [Tau Rail Rifle] was so powerful that I was pretty sure I'd be able to kill every single Nurglite Zombie if only they were kind enough to line up.
That said, I was very thankful for this dungeon, because it showed me just how bonkers the [Tau Rail Rifle] actually was without any real consequence. The damn thing was so powerful, it left holes in the sides of the buildings – holes that continued through several buildings at once. And I'd fired enough shots that I'd fucked up a lot of buildings. So, I was really lucky that this wasn't anywhere in the real world or I would've ended up killing a lot of humans, the very people I swore to protect.
The remaining zombies started to thin out—at least, on the rooftops. There were a lot of them still down there, I figured. So, I finished up the Nurglite Zombies that were closest to me, a task that took me maybe fifteen minutes at most, once I really started taking them seriously. The best thing about the [Las Pistol] was that, unlike with bullets, the laser beam it emitted was 100% accurate even at its maximum range. And, despite being at the bottom of the barrel when it came to weapons, the damn thing packed enough of a punch to blast apart entire portions of a zombie's body with each shot. And its replenishment window was so small that it didn't matter how many times I pulled the trigger in rapid succession.
Fifteen minutes later and the rooftops of this... odd and withered ruin of a city were covered in the smoking remnants of zombies. After making sure that I'd taken out the ones that were closest, I sent the [Las Pistol] back into my Inventory and, once more, took out the [Tau Rail Rifle], with which I then took aim at the streets below. There were still plenty of zombies shambling about down there and, with this weapon, they were pretty much just fish in a barrel. All I needed was patience and time. Sure, I'd finish this quicker if I summoned a few units, but I'd rather do it on my own.
Next time, perhaps, I'd make use of them if I still had access to this dungeon.
An hour later, a new message from the system popped up.
Congratulations! You've wiped out the hordes of Nurglite Zombies. The Boss Battle has been scaled to your level. Boss spawning in 3... 2... 1...
Quest Received!
Defeat Rotgut Maggotskin, Plaguebearer of Nurgle!
From the center of the ruined city came a great flash of green light, which was rather plain and clear to see from the rooftops, honestly. If I had to guess, then it was probably located in some kind of huge open area, because that was where all boss fights happened in games – big area, not a lot of cover, and maybe a bunch of zombies coming at me alongside this Rotgut Maggotskin, because that's exactly what I'd do if I was a game developer. After all, this was just a tutorial dungeon, not a level 100 dungeon with traps and pitfalls and all sorts of annoying shenanigans to test a player's ability to not break their own PC apart in anger.
I had to wonder, however, how this was supposed to play out, because I had a sniper rifle and the boss was probably just a zombie that was larger than normal. Then again, I had no idea what a Plaguebearer was supposed to be; the name itself offered a lot of clues, however, and it was probably the sort of foe that used a horde of flies as a means of defense and offense, and dealt low damage over the course of a long period of time using plagues and stuff. The boss would also be a damage sponge, because it'd end too quickly otherwise. But, then again, that was just the theory.
And, since I wasn't the type to fuck around and find out, I had no intention of actually getting up close with the boss. Why would I? I had a goddamn alien sniper rifle at my disposal.
I made my way across the rooftops, leaping from one to the next. The buildings were tightly packed, their jagged, ruined facades just close enough for me to keep up a decent speed without needing to pause too often. Each jump was a satisfying burst of kinetic power, and each landing was cushioned by the absurd physical prowess I'd been blessed with in this world. I barely had to think about it - my body just moved, and the world obeyed. This was what Captain America must've felt like all the time; after all, I was probably as close to him, in terms of physical stats, as I was to any other comic book character, just above humanity, but not so far above the human norm as to be superman.
After a few minutes of roof-hopping, I stopped. There it was. The arena.
It was a massive courtyard, half sunken into the surrounding ruins, with crumbled stone steps leading down into what must've once been a market or plaza. Now, it was a festering pit, filled with Nurglite Zombies shuffling around aimlessly, their bloated, rotting bodies forming a grotesque carpet of decay. At the center of it all stood the boss: a Plaguebearer.
The thing was... hideous. Its body was swollen and diseased, covered in boils and pustules that oozed foul liquids. Its single, cyclopean eye glared out from its misshapen face, and a massive rusted blade hung limply in its hand. Flies buzzed around it in thick, choking clouds, like a living, breathing smog of filth and death. It didn't look like it'd once been human, despite its humanoid form; it looked more akin to a supernatural entity, something demonic, which it probably was.
It didn't know where I was, because it seemed to be looking around, searching for something, but couldn't find it.
I set myself into position, lying flat on the rooftop, rifle out. From this distance, I could see everything - every shambling zombie, every twitch of the Plaguebearer's grotesque form. The [Tau Rail Rifle] lacked a scope to bring every closer, but the Plaguebearer stood out enough that taking aim by just looking down the barrel was enough; plus I could almost smell the rot from here and so, really, the damn thing stood like a sore thumb.
As I settled the barrel on its torso, I felt a brief moment of sympathy for the thing. Brief. And almost nonexistent.
"Sorry, pal," I muttered. "But you're not even going to get a chance to monologue."
The Tau Rail Rifle hummed softly in my hands as it powered up, the power coils within it charging the round with immense energy. I aimed carefully, lined up the shot, and then... squeezed the trigger.
There was no loud bang, no dramatic recoil. Just a sharp, almost imperceptible crack, and then the boss's torso exploded. Literally. One moment it was standing there, all bloated and menacing, and the next, it was missing a good chunk of its midsection, black ichor spraying everywhere as its body collapsed into a pile of rotting meat. The closest Nurglite Zombies exploded with it, their bodies torn asunder by the explosion of flesh and bone.
One-shot. Just as I thought. After all, the Plaguebearer was not that much bigger or bulkier than a particularly large man. At most, it was probably seven or eight feet tall. The [Tau Rail Rifle] was powerful enough to punch through several buildings at once. That guy stood no chance.
The entire horde of Nurglite Zombies seemed to freeze for a second, as if they couldn't quite comprehend what had just happened. Then, predictably, they all started shambling toward the now-empty center of the courtyard, mindless as ever. Looking back, I hadn't really killed all of them. There were too many. The conditions for the boss battle, I figured, were just that I kill enough Nurglite Zombies to trigger it.
I smirked, starting to pack up the rifle. Too easy.
[Ding!]
A system prompt flashed into my vision, halting me mid-motion.
Boss Defeated! Plaguebearer Exitus.
Well, that was quick. Almost disappointing, honestly. Then again, just what exactly was I expecting? At the very least, I now had confirmation that the [Tau Rail Rifle] definitely wasn't a weapon to scoff at.
But the prompt wasn't done yet.
Bonus Challenge Unlocked: Would you like to face the Bonus Boss? Rewards will be significantly increased.
I paused, staring at the message. Bonus boss, huh? That could mean anything. Probably something bigger, nastier, with way more health, because that's how these things went. But the rewards… they were tempting.
Besides, I wasn't done with this little adventure just yet.
I selected "Yes."
The Plaguebearer's remains twitched.
I blinked, watching as its body began to bubble, the ichor rising and swirling like it was being sucked into some invisible vortex. Then the ground itself started to tremble, and the air around me grew thick with the stench of rot. Something was coming. Something much, much worse.
The Plaguebearer's mangled form suddenly expanded, swelling far beyond its original size. The vortex drew in the Nurglite Zombies, ripping them apart in a storm of flesh and bone and blood and guts and sinew. The storm coalesced, but in place of the small, grotesque zombie creature stood something... far larger. Its skin, now a sickly green, stretched taut over massive muscles and rolls of bloated flesh. Its belly protruded, its engorged guts hang low and lashing out like serpents. Its wide mouth split into a gruesome grin, teeth yellowed and cracked, and a rancid, booming laugh echoed through the city. It stood almost twenty feet tall, at a glance. Twin antlers extended from its bulbous head.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," I muttered, my eyes widening as the [Great Unclean One], which was what the system called it, fully emerged, towering above the rotting trees. Its massive frame dwarfed everything around it, and in one bloated, diseased hand, it wielded a rusted sword as long as a bus. The other hand? A bulging, pulsing mass of putrid flesh, covered in open sores that dripped with toxic sludge, shaped kind of like a bell.
The system prompt helpfully popped up again.
Bonus Boss: Kaagrazath the Bloated, Great Unclean One.
Good luck!
I stared at it for a moment, then sighed, pulling the rifle back up and taking aim. The one advantage I had was that the damn thing was so big I didn't need to put up much effort into aiming.
"Right. Let's do this, then." I muttered under my breath just as I took yet another shot, this one piercing right through the [Great Unclean One] and out the other side, carving a large hole through its corpulent bulk, right at the center of its belly. Instead of dying, however, the big fat daemonic thing just started laughing. And I watched as the hole I'd made started closing. My eyes narrowed. Regeneration. The fat ass demon had regeneration.
As the [Great Unclean One] laughed, scores of tiny, green-skinned creatures climbed out of its skin, leaving quivering holes that oozed pus and other filthy fluids that I'd really rather not think about. The little creatures emitted annoying sounds as they all charged right towards me, which was funny because I was like thirty storeys high and they weren't that fast. Kaagrazath turned to me, laughing like there was no tomorrow – as though we weren't here to do battle. "What the fuck."
So, like any rational being, I started blasting.
I didn't bother much with the smaller... demonic things- ah, they were apparently called Nurglings. I didn't bother with them at all, simply because they didn't pose a threat, being down there, while I was up here. I had a rifle. They carried knives of some kind. Not a threat. Instead, I focused on Kaagrazath, firing again and again, blasting holes all over the entity's bulk. But it just wouldn't go down. And when it raised its sword right at me, every instinct in my body told me to run. And so I did. I leapt back around six meters when a sickly green projectile landed right where I'd been standing, melting concrete and metal as soon as it made contact, the ground itself screaming.
"Shit!" Okay. The enemy could cast spells and shit. Good to know. I leapt to the rooftop of a nearby building, firing yet another shot at the [Great Unclean One]. This time, however, the shot blasted right through its left wrist, which severed its left hand from its forearm. And, as a result, it dropped the bell-shaped thing it'd been carrying earlier, cracking the ground and releasing a wave of fumes. That, I noted, must not have been amusing because its laughter stopped all of a sudden. And its eyes, once filled with joy, narrowed.
Right, I realized. I'd forgotten the number one rule for dealing with damage sponges: hit em where it hurt.
I took aim once more and fired a single shot, right before it could throw another spell at me. The shot blasted through its right ankle, severing its right foot and forcing the entity down, even as the stump began regenerating. It roared in anger as it flailed on the ground. And, as it did, the [Great Unclean One] unleashed a swarm of buzzing flies – so numerous they formed a dark green cloud that rapidly flew towards me.
Yeah, I wasn't escaping this one. And so, I summoned Crentist.
The [Culexus Assassin] appeared right beside me, ready to kick ass. His sudden appearance, I immediately noted, brought with it a strange aura that burned away the greenish tint that enveloped just about everything in this dungeon. And the cloud of flies that I definitely would not have been able to outrun turned to dust before it could ever reach me. I just stood there until the cloud disappeared entirely. "Phew, that was close."
Once again, Crentist was gonna clutch this whole thing, because I currently didn't have anything strong enough to bust apart that big fucking demon. The Nurglings closed in around us, having climbed up the building earlier. I had no idea how his aura would affect them. But I didn't want to take any chances. We were surrounded and outnumbered. Luckily, I had one last card I could pull.
Grinning, I summoned the three [Drukhari Incubi] and the two [Ork Nobz] I'd been keeping in my Inventory.
Three [Drukhari Incubi] units and two [Ork Nobz], the former carried wickedly-shaped swords that looked right out of a horror movie and wore the coolest and spikiest-looking armor I've ever seen, and stood seven feet tall, and the latter were ten-feet tall, green-skinned muscle-heads with biceps the size of my whole torso and their right hands covered in massive, clawed gloves that cackled with some kind of electricity. Of the two, the [Drukhari Incubi] looked like they valued speed and technique more, whereas the [Ork Nobz] were probably really strong dudes who'd rip their enemies apart with pure force. Overall, I would very much not want to mess with these guys on a good day and yet, Crentist's aura still outmatched them.
It was almost comical, really. The Incubi, all sharp edges and murderous grace, practically exuded danger. They moved like predators, each step deliberate, with that particular stillness just before the pounce. Their swords – shimmering with dark energy—looked like they could carve through anything, including my sanity. Meanwhile, the Orks were the complete opposite. The Nobz stomped forward with a thunderous clatter, their giant feet leaving cracks in the stone rooftop beneath them. They didn't seem like the type to care much about finesse; they were all about overwhelming brutality. Their snarling faces split into wide, tusked grins, and they cracked their knuckles as if eager to tear into something – anything.
Crentist, however, just stood there like he didn't even notice them. His skull-faced helmet betrayed no emotion, and his aura of cold anti-psychic energy was like a black hole, sucking the life and warmth out of the air around him. Compared to the Incubi's menacing elegance and the Orks' raw, animalistic power, Crentist was a silent storm. It was like watching a lion pride and a couple of rhinos decide to take on a shadow that could erase their very existence with a blink.
"Right, no time to get all starstruck," I muttered to myself as I reloaded my rifle. The Great Unclean One, Kaagrazath, hadn't stopped regenerating. Each time I blasted a hole through its bloated body, it simply healed over, pus-filled flesh knitting back together like nothing had happened. But the fat bastard's movements had slowed a bit, which was something. I was doing damage; it just wasn't enough. Yet.
The ground below us rumbled as Kaagrazath took another lumbering step forward, its massive bulk making the ground quiver like jelly. The Nurglings that had poured out of its body earlier had begun scaling the building, eager to swarm us. Hundreds of tiny, green-skinned creatures with sharp teeth and sharper knives, giggling like insane toddlers as they scrambled up toward the rooftop where we stood.
"Alright, boys," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "Let's make this quick. You guys keep the Nurglings off me, and I'll keep blasting the big guy. Crentist, just… do your Crentist thing. Cool? Cool."
The Ork Nobz didn't even bother acknowledging me; they were already charging toward the edge of the rooftop with booming war cries that echoed through the ruined city. They vaulted off the roof like it was nothing, descending upon the writhing mass of Nurglings below like a pair of muscle-bound meteors. The moment they hit the ground, they started swinging. Each swipe of their massive, electrified claws tore through a dozen Nurglings at once, sending chunks of green flesh flying in all directions. The Nurglings' laughter turned to screams, but that didn't stop them. More just kept coming.
The [Drukhari Incubi] were more measured in their approach. They moved like shadows, darting from one side of the rooftop to the other, their swords slicing through Nurglings that had managed to crawl up the walls. Each movement was a lethal dance, their blades singing through the air with a metallic hiss as they carved through flesh with terrifying precision. In a matter of seconds, they'd cleared the rooftop of the first wave of Nurglings.
Crentist? Well, he didn't do anything flashy. But the aura around him grew darker, and the Nurglings that got too close to him simply disintegrated, their bodies collapsing into piles of dust as soon as they crossed some invisible threshold. It was as if their very existence was being erased by his mere presence. No attacks, no movements - just annihilation. And it was freaking glorious.
"Okay, then," I muttered, pulling my attention back to Kaagrazath. "Let's see if we can crack that regeneration of yours."
I took aim at one of the exposed areas of its flabby belly, where I could still see the faintest trace of the hole I'd blasted earlier. The wound hadn't fully healed yet, and that gave me an idea. If I couldn't kill this thing with raw firepower, maybe I could overload its regeneration.
I steadied the rifle, lining up my shot, and then squeezed the trigger.
The Rail Rifle kicked softly in my hands, and a moment later, the shot punched clean through the boss's gut. This time, though, I didn't stop at one. I fired again. And again. Three more shots, each one slamming into the same spot, each one widening the wound. Black ichor poured from Kaagrazath's belly like a broken dam, and the daemon let out a deep, gurgling roar that shook the very air around us.
For a moment, I thought it had worked. The regeneration stalled, the hole gaping and bleeding, but then, as if taunting me, the wound slowly began to close again.
"Son of a -"
Before I could finish the thought, Kaagrazath raised its rusted sword high above its head. The damn thing was the size of a bus, and it looked like it was about to cleave the entire rooftop in half. The sword came down with a speed that didn't match the monster's size, a sickening blur of rusted metal and rotten filth aimed right at us.
I didn't think. I just acted. With a burst of adrenaline-fueled speed, I leaped back, barely avoiding the edge of the blade as it smashed into the rooftop, sending chunks of concrete and stone flying in all directions. The force of the impact nearly threw me off my feet, but I managed to stay upright, skidding to a halt a few meters away.
"Okay! That was close!" I shouted, trying to suppress the panic rising in my chest.
But Kaagrazath wasn't done. It laughed—a deep, booming sound that made my skin crawl – and as it did, the flies around it thickened into a choking swarm, obscuring its massive form. Worse, the ground beneath it began to bubble and churn, and from the pools of filth, more Nurglings started to crawl out, their giggling voices rising in a horrifying chorus.
"Great," I muttered, looking over at the Incubi and Orks. They were holding their own, but more Nurglings just kept coming, and they were getting closer and closer to overwhelming us. If this kept up, we'd be drowning in the damn things before we could even touch the boss.
"Time for Plan B," I muttered, reaching into my Inventory. I'd been saving this for a real emergency, and well, this sure as hell counted.
I pulled out the [Krak Grenade] from the System, which was weirdly cheap at a price of 100 War Points. It wasn't much – just a standard-issue explosive designed for taking out armored targets or a large group of targets or if the thrower just wanted to blow shit up. It was designed to eject a ton of shrapnel and force and wouldn't probably do anything if I tossed it and it landed beside the Great Unclean One, but if I could get it close enough to the boss's exposed wound….
I turned to Crentist, who was still standing in his silent, aura-of-doom way, and called out, "I'm gonna need a distraction, buddy."
Crentist turned his skull-faced helmet toward me, gave a single nod, and then – without a word – vanished from sight. He was really good at that.
"Alright, big guy," I muttered, pulling the pin from the grenade and giving it a quick toss in my hand. "Let's see how you like this."
Just as I prepared to throw it, I saw Crentist reappear right beside Kaagrazath. The [Great Unclean One] turned toward him, its grotesque face twisting into a snarl. Crentist's presence clearly had some kind of effect towards the boss as it staggered and roared and raised its massive cleaver to try and break my [Culexus Assassin].
Perfect.
I lobbed the grenade as hard as I could, watching it sail through the air before disappearing into the writhing mass of flesh that was Kaagrazath's stomach. A split second later, there was a muffled explosion, and the boss roared in pain, its bloated body shuddering as chunks of rotting flesh were blown apart.
The wound didn't close this time.
I grinned. "Now we're getting somewhere."
But as Kaagrazath stumbled, I saw its beady eyes lock onto me. Its laughter faded, replaced by a cold, simmering rage.
"Oh, crap," I muttered. "Here we go."
Kaagrazath's eyes were like twin black holes of hatred, locking onto me with a focus that made my skin crawl. The flies surrounding it dispersed for a moment as it leaned forward, its massive bulk groaning under its own weight. Every step it took toward me felt like the world was holding its breath. My Rail Rifle suddenly felt way too small.
"Yeah, that was probably a bad idea," I muttered to myself, backing up as quickly as I could while fumbling to reload.
The Ork Nobz were still in the thick of it, swinging their massive claws like living wrecking balls, but even they paused for a split second to glance at the Great Unclean One. One of them barked something in their guttural language and, with a roar, turned their attention back to the swarm of Nurglings. The Incubi, too, seemed momentarily distracted by the shift in Kaagrazath's demeanor, but they didn't hesitate. In a blur of motion, they resumed their grim work, slicing through the gibbering horde with eerie precision.
But Crentist… Crentist just stood there, completely unfazed by the fact that Kaagrazath was now bearing down on me like a runaway freight train of pestilence.
"Uh, little help here?" I called out, my voice coming out a little more panicked than I intended.
Crentist didn't respond, didn't even acknowledge my plea. Instead, he took one slow, deliberate step toward Kaagrazath, and for the briefest of moments, I thought maybe – just maybe – he'd do something dramatic. You know, maybe summon a vortex of annihilation or whatever it was that made Culexus Assassins so terrifying in the first place.
Instead, Kaagrazath's massive sword came down with the force of a collapsing building.
I barely managed to dive out of the way as the rusted cleaver crashed into the rooftop, splitting it in two and sending chunks of debris flying everywhere. My shoulder hit the ground hard, and the impact knocked the wind out of me. Gasping, I scrambled to my feet, just in time to see Crentist standing calmly in the shadow of the enormous blade, unscathed.
Crentist, you absolute psycho.
Kaagrazath roared in frustration, yanking its sword free from the shattered roof and raising it again, its rage now fully focused on the one entity that dared stand in defiance. Crentist didn't flinch. In fact, he took another step forward, his aura growing darker, more oppressive. The very air around him shimmered with a faint, otherworldly distortion, and for the first time, Kaagrazath hesitated.
That was my opening.
Ignoring the searing pain in my shoulder, I raised the Rail Rifle again and lined up my shot. The beast's wound was still wide open, festering with black ichor, and I could see where the grenade had torn through its putrid innards. One more hit there, and maybe—just maybe—I could finish this.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and squeezed the trigger.
The shot slammed into the wound with a sickening squelch, and Kaagrazath's entire body convulsed. A horrid, wet gurgling sound escaped its throat, and for a moment, I thought it was finally going down. But then, impossibly, its bloated flesh began to twist and writhe, and the wound I'd just blasted began to close again. This time, though, it wasn't just regenerating – the motherfucker was transforming.
"Oh, come on!" I yelled. "Why won't you just fucking die?!"
"Fuck this shit."
Kaagrazath hadn't completed his transformation yet, which left him vulnerable – more so than he probably realized. He was a massive, bloated monster, but still, unfinished. A half-formed abomination of rotten flesh and corruption, and it was all I needed. With my minions dealing with the endless waves of Nurglings, I had a few seconds of freedom to pull off something big. I checked my War Points; 400 left after buying that one [Krak Grenade]. I could've spent them on two [Plasma Grenades] at 150 each and a [Frag Grenade] to round it out. That would've been smart, probably even effective.
But that's when my [Tempestus Scions Training] kicked in, and a far better idea presented itself.
A [Lasgun Power Pack] cost just 10 War Points. Each one, if overloaded, had roughly the same explosive power as a [Plasma Grenade]. Forty Lasgun Power Packs cost me 400 points, exactly what I had left. And it wasn't just about the math—it was about strategy, efficiency. If I could detonate them all at once in a concentrated blast, the result would be apocalyptic.
I grinned like a madman as the plan formed in my mind, and before I could second-guess myself, I spent the War Points, summoning the power packs straight into my hands. Forty of them, glowing with a faint, ominous light. Kaagrazath, still sluggish in his grotesque metamorphosis, was the perfect target.
"Here goes nothing," I muttered, and with all the force I could muster, I tossed the power packs straight at him.
The sticky, slimy film that coated his entire body worked in my favor. Every single one of those packs stuck to his foul, putrid flesh like flies to honey. There they clung, pulsing faintly, their collective potential for devastation just waiting for the right trigger.
I didn't have time to admire my work. I needed to destabilize one of the power packs – just one – and the rest would go off like a chain reaction. Forty simultaneous explosions in a tight radius would be enough to vaporize Kaagrazath and leave nothing but a smoking crater where he stood.
I pulled the [Las Pistol] from my [Inventory] with a swift motion, the weight of it feeling reassuring in my hands. My heart pounded, adrenaline coursing through my veins, but I forced my hands steady. This was the shot. No room for error.
The pistol hummed softly as I took aim at one of the glowing power packs stuck to Kaagrazath's grotesque belly. The fat, rotting mass of his body seemed almost oblivious to the threat, still writhing in its unfinished transformation. Perfect.
I squeezed the trigger.
The crimson beam lanced out, precise and deadly, hitting the mark dead-center. There was no delay, no pause. The first power pack detonated immediately, and in the split second before the whole chain reaction began, I knew I had to move.
"Shit, shit, shit-"
I turned and sprinted as hard and fast as I could, legs pumping with every ounce of power they had. The world around me blurred, but I could already feel the heat rising behind me. I wasn't sure if the roaring I heard was Kaagrazath's final, furious bellow, or the sound of the explosion itself building to a crescendo.
Then it hit.
The detonation was like nothing I'd ever experienced. Forty power packs, all going off in rapid succession, unleashed a blast of energy so intense it felt like the sun had exploded behind me. The shockwave slammed into me like a freight train, and before I knew it, I was airborne, sent flying like a ragdoll.
I was spinning, tumbling head over heels through the air, disoriented as hell but somehow still aware enough to register the sheer destruction happening behind me. The explosion wasn't just fire – it was pure, unfiltered energy. It tore through the rooftop, vaporized the surrounding Nurglings, and engulfed Kaagrazath in an inferno of white-hot light.
For a brief moment, it felt like time stopped. I was caught in mid-air, a strange calm settling over me as I watched the blast bloom outward. Kaagrazath's massive form was swallowed by the explosion, the grotesque shape of his body distorting and dissolving in the blaze, screaming and roaring in pain.
This is it, I thought. I actually did it.
The light faded, replaced by an expanding cloud of dust, fire, and debris. My body crashed into something hard, and pain flared through my ribs as I hit the ground with bone-jarring force. The world spun, the edges of my vision darkening. But I was still alive.
Slowly, I pushed myself up, coughing and wiping dust from my face. My ears were ringing, my head swimming, but through the haze, I could see the aftermath of the explosion. Where Kaagrazath had stood, there was now a massive crater, smoldering with the last remnants of the blast. His enormous, rotting form was nowhere to be seen – completely obliterated.
I blinked, struggling to process what had just happened. The Nurglings were gone, the swarm annihilated in the explosion's radius. The Incubi and Orks were still there, staring at the crater with a mix of awe and – was that respect? Eh, probably not, but they were probably glad for this whole affair to be over and done with. The Orks cheered, bellowing some unintelligible war cry, while the Incubi remained silent, their swords sheathed.
And then there was Crentist, standing at the edge of the crater, motionless as ever. His skull-faced helmet tilted slightly in my direction, and for a brief second, I thought I saw him nod.
"Yeah," I wheezed, staggering to my feet, "that's what I thought."
Dungeon Quest Completed! Regular and Bonus Bosses Defeated! - 10,000 War Points Rewarded!
Bonus Reward/s Quality Increased!
New Units Unlocked!
[Tyranid Exocrene] x1!
[Tyranid Exocrene] - Little more than a living artillery platform, the Exocrine is controlled by the brain of its Bio-Plasmic Cannon Biomorph, a giant weapon able to unleash a vast ball of plasma, or several focussed streams of fire from its multiple barrels. The Exocrine itself is purely a means of transportation for the bio-plasmic cannon nested into its flesh.
[Tyranid Carnifex (Basic Strain)] x3!
[Tyranid Carnifex] - Hulking, powerful Tyranid creatures used as living battering rams. They are often armed with the most powerful Tyranid Bio-weapons, and are used in shock assaults, spaceship boarding actions, massed battles, and for battering through fortified positions and tank formations. A Carnifex is the perfect tool for when brute force is the most attractive option.
[Cadian Shock Trooper] x20!
[Cadian Shock Trooper] - The Cadian Shock Troopers are Regiments of the Astra Militarum originally from the fortress world of Cadia before its destruction. Located at the edge of the Eye of Terror, Cadia formed the first line of defence against Chaos incursions, such as the Black Crusades. Because of this, Cadia was one of the most strategically important planets in the Galaxy, and the entire population was militarized to some degree. In short, Cadian Shock Troopers are the most well-rounded Imperial Guard Regiments, specializing in no particular mode of warfare but are able to function in almost any situation.
Would you like a Reward Chest or a Stat Upgrade?
I didn't have to think about it for very long. Whatever was in the Reward Chest likely wasn't anything I couldn't purchase from the System anyway. More than anything, I needed Stat Upgrades. And, honestly, the new units were freaking amazing already and I couldn't wait to test them out. Patience was the key here and planning. As the System seemed eager to reward me with units, the prudent thing to do was to strengthen myself.
So, I chose the Stat Upgrade.
Stat Upgrade Chosen! +10 points to all stats!
My eyes widened. "Holy shit."
That was not a small upgrade. Or, maybe, just maybe, my idea of what an upgrade was supposed to be, this whole time, had been small beans.
STR – 28 (+10)
DEX – 20 (+10)
VIT – 27 (+10)
Dungeon Closing in 3...2...1...
Everything turned white for a moment and then... I was back in my room, on my bed. The difference being that all the units I'd already summoned, like the Ork Nobz, the Drukhari Incubi, and Crentist himself, were standing around my bed, waiting for further orders. I raised a brow. "Sup guys."
"-and back into the locker you go," I said, just as I sent them all back into my [Inventory], alongside all the other cool units I'd gotten, two of which were definitely monstrous alien beings that were far more alien than either the Orks or the Drukhari. I turned to the clock. Time hadn't moved at all in the real world, it seemed, given that I must've spent hours in the Dungeon. That was good. It was efficient.
I turned to the system. The Level 1 Nurglite Instant Dungeon was grayed out, which meant I couldn't choose it, but it also had a timer for three days, which meant I could reopen the damn thing in three days. Next to it was the Level 2 Slaaneshi Instant Dungeon, which had a red skull icon, which meant that I could open and enter it, but I'd also definitely die if I did.
"Oookay," I shrugged. "Not opening that until I get a few more stats and toys in."
Though, I wasn't entirely sure by what metric it measured my power. Did it take my units into account or just my stats? But, I'd also really rather not find out the hard way; so, I figured I'd check again tomorrow, when my body had finished integrating my stats and shit. Maybe, by then, the red skill icon would be gone. But, there was no reason to rush things. I also now had 10,000 War Points, which I could spend on a lot of things, because holy shit that was a lot of points.
And considering all the possible dangers I'd soon be facing, I needed to upgrade my shit fast. I looked through physical upgrades and such. A lot of these was now available to me. Two stood out immediately. See, a lot of the present options were for physical augmentations that would turn me superhuman, able to hit hard, run fast, and never get tired. But I'd eventually have all three of those things just by accumulating stat points anyway. And so, it was because of that reason that the following, very contrasting, options took my attention.
[Psyker] – You are able to access the raw energies of the Immaterium to wield psychic powers and create unnatural phenomena. Unlocking this upgrade will grant you access to the Psyker Skill Tree. You may purchase this upgrade again – at a higher price – to increase your Psyker Rating, which will grant you access to higher level Psyker Skills. Costs 9500 War Points.
[Blank] – You are a psychic blank, a no-thing that casts a shadow over all things. Your soul is blank and hollow, like a hole that sucks in the very color and life of the world. Psychic abilities and magical effects (depending on their potency) will either be nullified or severely dampened in your presence. You are immune to magical contracts. You may purchase this upgrade again – at a higher price – to increase you Blank Rating, which will increase the potency and magnitude of your emptiness. For your sake, this effect can be toggled on or off. Costs 10000 War Points.
Both were extremely expensive, but goddamn they'd be worth it. Which one did I want more? I also noted the fact that there really wasn't anything that said I couldn't have both if I could afford the two. Not sure how that was going to work, but none of this made sense to begin with anyway. For now, however, in the interest of self-preservation, becoming a Blank was simply more beneficial. I didn't need more attack power at the moment, considering that I had a ton of new units and the [Tau Rail Rifle] wasn't a joke.
So, without hesitation, I purchased the upgrade and promptly passed out.
I slept the rest of the day and missed a bunch of classes, but I didn't care too much, since I immediately messaged my friends and they told me that the professors only gave out assignments or droned on and on about topics I already knew about, which was great. I woke up really late at night, almost 9:00 pm, which meant I'd been asleep for more than twelve hours. Holy shit. And, with the way colors seemed to fade around me, I knew for a fact that I was now a [Blank]. Unlike Crentist, however, who was kind of stuck with who and what he was till he ceased to exist, my state as a [Blank] could be freaking toggled on or off.
Since I didn't want either of my parents to be scared of me if I ever walked into them in the living room, I toggled my [Blank] state off – for now. I was turning it back on the moment I stepped out of the damn house. A quick view told me that my [Blank] was at level 1 – with a numerical factor of 1000, which I figured was the value of life or magic that I could nullify. By extension, I also now knew that Crentist – and, by extension, other [Culexus Assassins], had a minimum [Blank] level of 2, which was Crentist's level.
It was night time, which meant I had to be out there. Someone was definitely hunting for me and I'd be stupid not to perform the ol' switcheroo by hunting them back, in turn. I was a lot stronger now and it was gonna take a lot more than just a fancy fireball to kill me.
First and foremost, however, I checked out my stats and grinned.
STR – 38
DEX – 30
VIT – 37
Oh yes. I felt so much stronger now than before. So much so, in fact, that I was pretty sure I could splinter hardwood with just my grip, which was exactly what I did with an old bat I used to play with when I was a kid and liked baseball. The bat was made entirely of hickory and was technically an antique, given that it was made sometime immediately following the second world war – old and durable. My dad bought it for me off of a former neighbor's garage sale. I hadn't used this bad boy in... a very long time.
Hickory was not something that broke easily. In fact, crazy people with wooden baseball bats have been known to break apart cars and shit, usually drugged up gangsters, angry ex-wives, or just angry drunks. It was durable. And so it came as something of a surprise when the length of it began splintering hard when I wrapped my fingers around it and squeezed with all that I had, my muscles straining.
I'd gone far beyond the realm of superhuman by this point and entered something that was closer to the stuff that people did in movies, like freaking Captain America.
The bat splintered, but I couldn't break or snap it in half no matter how hard I squeezed. Smiling, I let go and let the bat fall to the ground with a hand-shaped dent in what used to be its thickest part, the length of it now covered in cracks and little breaks. I stared at my hand and grinned. Oh yeah, it's all coming together.
However, I was pretty sure that gaining more points from exercise would now be almost entirely impossible, unless I gained access to a magical gym, where the bars didn't break after filling it up with like a thousand kilograms of weight.
My newfound strength and stats confirmed, I checked out the list of dungeons and discovered that, indeed, the Level 2 Slaaneshi Dungeon was still marked with a little red skull. So, it was too dangerous for me as I was now. Oh well. No need to rush. I was pretty sure that I was getting stronger at a ridiculous rate anyway. No need to risk my life when I could just... well... not do that. I still had the rest of the night, however, and I definitely wasn't planning on going back to sleep.
So, what I planned on doing now was-
My eyes narrowed. There was something odd about the air, a chill that tugged at my very bones. Its presence was faint, but unmistakably there. I toggled my [Blank] state back on.
Something was wrong.
Immediately, I noted the silence. It wasn't that late at night. Mom should still be watching one of her favorite shows in the living room, like the Golden Girls. Though my room was generally soundproofed, I should still be able to hear the sounds from the TV, considering how much my senses have expanded. Through the slight opening of my window, I heard the low buzz of something, accompanied by moans and groans- and oh boy, Mrs. Goodman was masturbating.
I stood up and rushed down to the living room. The TV was on, but instead of color or anything, really, there was only static. The furniture looked fine. But the center table was a little off-center and that was weird, because mom had OCD and made sure everything was perfectly aligned or otherwise arranged. One corner of the carpet was folded over. Someone was here. I wasn't sure if there was a struggle, but someone had been here. Or mom left the house in such a hurry that she forgot to arrange anything first... or... someone took her.
My eyes narrowed at an envelope on the center table – blood red and etched with a golden wax seal and upon that seal was the image of an owl... or some other bird that kind of looked like an owl. The ominous feeling, I realized, came from the letter. I shook my head and checked every single room in the house, including the master bedroom, where my parents slept. None. Nothing. My mom wasn't in any of them. I rushed back to the living room and opened the envelope. Inside was a latter, similarly blood-red, and etched upon it were words, written in some golden ink or some shit.
There were only a few words written on it.
Not two seconds later, I gritted my teeth and crumpled the letter. "Son of a bitch. Someone kidnapped my mom."
Go to the abandoned warehouse, where you killed my aunt. If you do, I'll release your mother; if you don't, I'll skin her alive and make a new coat out of her and then I'm going to the same to your father. You have two hours. Don't keep me waiting.
Aunt. Whoever sent this was related to that... inhuman thing that Crentist and I killed in the warehouse. She definitely wasn't human, despite her human looks. Probably some kind of illusion. The one who sent this letter was that creature's niece. Yet another inhuman entity in this world that needs to die. If it did not have my mother, I would've just used the [Exocrene] to bomb the shit out of it and everything around it.
But I couldn't do that. I'd be at a disadvantage if this turned out to be a fight, which it most definitely will because anyone or anything that thought it could kidnap my mom without consequences was just crazy. I'm gonna kill a bitch.
First and foremost, however, I needed to plan. The element of surprise was on my side. So, I could definitely make use of that to my advantage. My enemy probably didn't know about the [Incubi], the [Ork Nobz], the [Carnifexes], the [Exocrene], and the twenty [Cadian Shocktroops] that I could just call out on a whim. Not to mention Crentist, who was a [Blank], like myself. And so the plan was pretty simple. I go in and if things went south, then I was dropping every single unit atop a bitch's head. Whatever the case, the only way this ended was with my mom's kidnapper dying and nothing else.
I summoned Crentist. "We're going back to the warehouse. I'll go in, while you stay out and check the perimeter. If things go south, bust in and help me take down whoever kidnapped my mom."
I knew he'd obey whatever I told him to do. So, I turned and walked right out. My dad was probably under surveillance or was being followed. I needed to end this as quickly as I could. "Let's go."
Turns out I could now run really fast, literally outrunning a speeding motorcycle on the freeway and tearing my shoes apart. I made it to the warehouse in less than ten minutes. It took me a while to realize that, despite the oppressive darkness around this part of Portland, which was mostly woods, I could see really well. I could make out the individual leaves on the ground, the pebbles and twigs, and all sorts of things that should've been invisible in the darkness. Which of my stats was responsible for this, I wondered? Because Dexterity, Endurance, and Strength didn't really include anything regarding optical abilities.
And I couldn't see this well in the dark before.
I shook my head and walked up to the warehouse. Through our link, I knew that Crentist was moving between the shadows of the tall trees, searching for anything amiss. Were were dealing with a magic user, however, and so it was entirely possible that he wouldn't find anything by virtue of deleting anything magical around him. But, if I worried over every little detail, I'd never get anything done. I'd improvise if necessary. Come what fucking may. My mom's life was on the line.
I walked right up to the warehouse's entrance, an old door that flew right off its hinges and crashed into the wall, cracking apart the concrete as soon as I pushed it open. Huh, I might have to get used to this strength. I stepped inside. "I'm here, just like you asked!"
There were no rooms for the inhuman creature to hide in. The warehouse itself was a vast, open space. So, I walked straight to its center and, lo and behold, there I saw my mother, unconscious, wearing her pajamas, floating right above a massive glowing symbol on the ground, red and wicked, a pentagram that was surrounded by legions of smaller symbols. Crimson chains snaked around her form. And a shimmering bubble of nearly-invisibly energies surrounded her. My monkey brain tells me to run up over there and try to break her free.
My human brain tells me that's what my enemy expects of me and has probably lain a trap. And, seeing as I'm nowhere near as strong as Crentist in terms of blankness, I don't think I was quite as anti-magic as I'd like – resistant, certainly, but not a true null. Oh boy, this was going to hurt.
"Mom?" I called out. But she remained asleep, her eyes blissfully closed.
"You've made quite a mess of things, down in the underworld," Someone suddenly spoke from the rafters. I looked up and saw a woman there – black hair, crimson eyes, pale skin. She wore a black tanktop and what appeared to be leather pants. She was barefoot, too. She looked down at me, her face calm and stoic and icy cold. "It's not everyday an unaffiliated human kills a member of a Great House. They're in uproar, clamoring for the head of whoever is responsible."
I sneered. Not human. Still, I thought I'd buried my tracks perfectly. "How'd you find out?"
"I tracked you by smell," She shrugged and jumped down, landing a few feet away from my mother. She made no noise as she moved. "It wasn't that hard. Now, it seems you've asked the wrong question; the real question should be: what now? Tell me, human, do you believe you can fight your way out of this? Your pet abomination, the one outside, well... he'll be a little troublesome, but nothing I can't deal with. You, on the other hand, are just a weak little human boy, who was born with a Sacred Gear."
I honestly had no idea what she was talking about and, all things considered, her finding out about Crentist was something I'd expected. But, she really didn't know everything about me. She knew I had something, but she had no idea what that was. "I honestly don't know what you're talking about. I only found out about this supernatural shit a few days ago."
That got a reaction out of her. "And my aunt died by your hand? I'm almost tempted to just let you go and tell everyone back home that she deserved to die."
I brought my hands together. "Oh pretty please?"
"No." The woman said. "I'm going to tell you what you can do. Choose wisely. I'm not entirely fond of making slaves out of humans, but I will if it benefits me."
My eyes narrowed. "Huh. Let me stop you right there. I choose my way."
I got into a firing stance, willed forth the [Tau Rail Rifle] into my hands, and fired immediately.