Azael woke to a strange munching noise somewhere nearby. The sound was faint at first wet and rhythmic, echoing faintly through the icy cavern walls. He blinked several times, his vision blurred and his head throbbing. Cold air brushed against his skin like a whisper.
"Whats making that noise?" he murmured groggily, his voice hoarse from sleep.
He pushed himself up, eyes still half-shut, and rubbed at them with one hand
and froze mid-motion. Something was moving beneath his skin. His heart skipped a beat. "Wait… what?"
A small bulge slithered under his forearm, as though something alive was trapped beneath it. He pressed his fingers against the spot, and whatever was inside wriggled back.
Azael's stomach turned. "That's not real. I'm just seeing things… right?"
But when the bulge shifted again traveling up his arm panic flared.
He stumbled to his feet, eyes darting wildly. Then, to his horror, several pale, maggot-like creatures tumbled off his shoulders and arms, landing on the cold floor. Some were still clinging to his skin, crawling toward the warmth of his body.
His breath caught in his throat. "Oh no… no, no, no!"
He stomped frantically, crushing the crawling things underfoot. Each one released a faint, screeching hiss before going still. Their soft bodies popped like overripe fruit beneath his steps, leaving behind a trail of grayish sludge.
A faint chime broke through the chaos.
[ CONGRATULATIONS. You have defeated: an Imps, Cave Maggot. ]
Azael blinked at the floating text, chest still heaving.
"I knew it. It was a maggot. Wait…" His mind raced. "If they count as monsters… then maybe they'll drop something too?"
Greed replaced fear in his eyes. Without hesitation, he began stomping again, crushing every fallen maggot he could find. His bare feet splashed through the sticky remains as the air filled with a sickly, rotting stench. When the last one stopped twitching, he leaned against the cavern wall, panting.
"Alright," he muttered, forcing a grin. "Let's see what I got."
The window flickered again.
[ You have slain: 20 Cave Maggots. ]
[ You have gained: 100 Soul Energy. ]
[ You have overcapped the soul energy limit, from now on any soul energy obtain won't be stored until the extra soul energy is used ]
"what?, I can overcapped on soul energy?", azael was rubbing his temple until he remembered that in his profile it says 0/100 soul energy.
"oh yeah, the bear gave me 100 soul energy, but atleast the maggot can give an item or even a invocation right?"
He waited, eyes fixed on the glowing screen. A second passed. Then another. Nothing more appeared. "Seriously? That's all?" he grumbled. "No invocation, no item? Come on!"
His voice echoed through the empty cavern. He sighed, rubbing his temple. "I'm talking to a floating window now. Great. I've officially lost it."
Then, a sharp, burning pain shot through his arm. He hissed in agony and looked down.
The bulge under his skin was still there smaller now, but moving faster. It wasn't gone, it was digging deeper.
"No no, stop!" Azael stumbled backward, panic rising again. He clawed at his sleeve, but the movement only made the pain worse. Desperation filled his chest.
He looked around the chamber, eyes wild. "Think, Azael, think! How do I get it out!?"
His pulse pounded like war drums in his ears. He'd been too distracted by rewards, too eager to see what he'd gained.
And now, he realized with dread
he'd forgotten about the thing still inside him.
Azael forced air into his lungs. "Okay i just need to cut it out fast."
He'd survived worse. The bear's tongue. The jaw snapping off. The endless cycle of being torn apart and stitched back together. This? This was just another wound. Another price.
He scanned the chamber, eyes locking onto a jagged shard of ice protruding from the wall thin, crystalline, its edge catching the blue light like a serrated blade. He snapped it free. Cold bit into his palm, sharp and clean.
With no hesitation, he pressed the tip against the spot on his forearm where the maggot thrummed beneath his skin a slow, sickening vibration, like something breathing in the dark.
Azael cover his mouth with the bear fur to avoid his tounge being bitten off, his teeth clenched. Fur wadded between his jaws. Then he pierce his own skin with the ice pick.
A jolt of white-hot pain lanced up his arm. azael didn't scream, he bit down on the fur, wool muffling the sound as his eyes watered and his vision blurred at the edges.
Then azael peel his own skin.
He dragged the shard sideways, parting skin like wet paper. Blood welled, dark and thick. Through the haze of pain, he saw The maggot.
Coiled deep in the muscle, translucent body glistening. Its front end tiny, needle-toothed chewed methodically at strands of flesh. The rear writhed, anchoring itself deeper.
the maggot is having a grand feast with azael flesh. Rage surged through azael, burning through the fear. He drove the ice shard down hard impaling the creature mid-twitch.
It spasmed once, then burst, oozing milky fluid that smelled of rot and iron.
A black window flickered:
[ You have slain a Cave Maggot. ]
[ WARNING!, your soul energy exceed the limit, this creature soul energy won't be stored! ]
Azael spat the fur out, breath ragged.
He stared at the open wound flap of skin hanging, muscle exposed, blood already frosting at the edges. "Great. Now I'm a leaky meat sack."
But he'd learned. Survival wasn't pretty. It was stitches with ice needles and prayers to a glow he couldn't control.
He snapped a slender icicle from a nearby ledge fine as a surgeon's tool and, with hands that trembled only slightly, threaded it through the torn flesh. Pulled. Tightened. Again. The needle cracked halfway through. He used another. By the end, his arm was bound with crude, melting sutures, blood and meltwater streaking his forearm.
He leaned back against the frozen wall chest heaving, exhausted. His breath misted in the frigid air as his mind caught up with what had just happened. "Where did that thing even come from?"
Then he heard a faint crunching sound from deeper in the cave. It was the same noise as before, a sickening, steady rhythm. Azael froze, then slowly followed the sound, his boots crunching lightly against the ice.
The noise grew louder until he reached a massive block of frost where he'd hidden earlier. He crouched, peering over the edge. But found nothing, Just silence and the eerie gleam of the frozen walls.
Then something moved.
From beneath the ice block, a cluster of pale shapes squirmed out tiny white creatures crawling in unison. His eyes widened. He knelt and looked closer, only to see dozens more writhing beneath the translucent surface. The underside of the ice was alive.
"Unbelievable…" he breathed, recoiling slightly. "Are they hiding from the cold under there?"
Suppressing a shudder, Azael shook his head. "No time to think about it," he muttered, pulling his fur cloak tighter. He turned away from the nest, gripping his makeshift weapon.
"Yeah. Nope."
He stood. Wiped blood on his thigh. Ignored the throb in his arm, the chill biting through the fur.
And walked forward Deeper into the ice cave. Toward the unknown. Because in Hell, resting wasn't a gift. It was bait.
And Azael?
He was done taking the bait.
-------
Azael had expected something in this place. Traps. Corpses. Clues. A weapon. Even a goddamn sign.
Instead it's just ice.
Endless. Gleaming. Beautiful in the worst way like a cathedral built for ghosts. Walls curved into vaulted arches, lit from within by that soft, pulsing blue. Stalactites hung like frozen chandeliers. Spikes jutted from floors and ceilings, sharp enough to impale. It was breathtaking.
And utterly empty.
No footprints. No bones. No monsters. Just silence, and the low, constant hum of cold.
He still gripped the ice pick knuckles white, edge already dulling from use. "Just in case something attacks me" azael murmured.
"This cave barely has anything!" Frustration cracked his voice. He'd searched room after room. only to find Nothing.
"One more," he muttered. "Last one."
He pushed into the next chamber—same as the rest. Ice walls. Jagged spikes. A few scattered rocks, black and smooth, like they didn't belong.
Then there's a writing, carved deep into the wall, letters rough and deliberate, as if gouged by something desperate, something angry:
"Wrath is not madness; it's truth unchained. I simply burn with what all mortals try to hide."
Azael reached out. Traced the grooves with his fingertips. The ice was colder here. Almost feels like its alive.
"What… am I supposed to do with that information?" He rubbed his temple. "Confess? Light myself on fire? Great. Cryptic bullshit from a dead poet in Hell."
He turned to leave then noticed something from the corner of his eye. A flicker deep in the ice. A black glow thin, serpentine winding through the crystal.
He blinked. Than it was gone. "…Did I just imagine that?" He exhaled, breath fogging. "Yup. definitely the Sleep deprivation starting to kick in"
He shrugged it off. and Walked away.
unbeknownst to him, he Didn't see the black thread pulse once, twice growing brighter the farther he got.
---
The next room opened into a cavern so vast it swallowed sound. And in the center lays a giant hole. A low, rhythmic rumble echoed from below. Like an animal is snoring.
Azael crept to the edge. Peered down. "OMG NO" His blood turned to ice.
There, curled in a mound of frost and fur was an Ice Bear. But not the Ice Bear he encountered.
This one was colossal. 10 time the size. Its breath plumed like a blizzard with every exhale, stirring the smaller bears dozens of them wrapped around its limbs like pups, sleeping soundly. One shifted, claws scraping ice. Another nuzzled its mother's jaw.
Azael stumbled back, hand clamped over his mouth. His heart hammered so hard he thought it might crack a rib. Sweat slicked his neck even in the cold, his body remembered. what happened in the igloo.
"Not again," he whispered, voice raw. "I won't I can't...." He turned to run.
THOOM.
The ground heaved. Ice cracked like shattering bone underfoot. He dropped to one knee, arms flailing for balance, the ice pick nearly slipping from his grip. Dust and frost rained from the ceiling. His pulse roared in his ears louder than the tremor, louder than his own breath.
He forced himself up. Legs trembling. Stump throbbing. And ran.
Not in a straight line nothing in this cave was straight. He wove between jagged ice pillars, skidded around curves slick with meltwater, lungs burning with each gasp of frigid air. The blue light flickered as he passed clusters of crystal formations, their glow strobing like a failing heartbeat. His boots slipped; he caught himself on a wall, palm scraping raw against frozen ridges.
He spun toward the entrance, and saw it. It's the Ice Giant outside the cave entrance.
Its massive leg filled the cave mouth, foot planted just beyond the threshold. As it took another step, the ceiling groaned. Chunks of ice rained down. The entrance shuddered then collapsed in a roar of snow and shattered crystal.
Azael sprinted. Reached his arm towards the entrance, feeling the cold air of the outside touch his fingertips and....
CRUNCH.
A slab of ice the size of a tombstone slammed down on his outstretched hand.
Pain detonated up his arm. He yanked back. And looked down. His hand was gone. Neatly severed at the wrist. Blood sprayed in a hot arc before freezing midair.
"AAAAAAA—!" He bit down on his forearm, teeth sinking deep to muffle the scream. Tears blurred his vision.
"Think. THINK. What should I do?!" heavy Footsteps echoed down the hall. "SHIT, is that the bear?, theres no time"
He staggered to the familiar corner of the big ice block where he'd slept, where the maggots nested and dropped behind it. Ripped a strip from his tunic with his teeth. Wrapped the stump tight. Pulled until his vision grayed. Tied it off with shaking fingers.
Breath ragged. Arm burning. Cave trembling. Somewhere, a low growl rumbled through the ice.
Azael pressed his back to the cold, closed his eyes, and whispered half prayer, half curse:
"…I am so fucking unlucky."