"What the hell!?"
The hammer had passed right through the phantom as if it were nothing but air. Iskar was about to lift it again when he saw another one flying toward him.
He didn't have time to think; he turned and threw a punch with all his might. In reality, he didn't expect it to land, but what else could he do?
To his surprise, he felt it connect. The phantom was sent flying across the room, crashing into the wall with a faint, ghostly wail.
He noticed the reaction of the phantoms around him. They didn't have faces, just shadowy, robe-like forms with no visible features. Despite this, he could feel their fear.
They began to circle him, their forms drifting menacingly. He couldn't tell how many there were, maybe five, maybe ten, probably even 20 or so.
But knowing he could touch them, that he could hurt them, gave him a sliver of confidence. He wasn't going to let them surround him.
He dashed forward, leaping into a Superman punch that sent one of the phantoms sprawling. Before it could recover, he grabbed it. It struggled, its form writhing like smoke in his grip, but he held on tight.
[Absorb]
The phantom let out a deafening shriek that almost shattered his eardrums, but he held on. A cold, prickling energy flowed into him.
[+1 Magical Power]
[You have killed a Level 4 Phantom]
[You have gained Exp]
But before he could savor the victory, he felt something hook into his back. It wasn't entirely physical, more like a tugging on his very essence. He tried to turn, but the sensation only intensified.
Suddenly, he felt a violent pull. He couldn't help but let out a loud, guttural scream, a sound that was anything but masculine.
He would've been embarrassed if he wasn't in excruciating pain. It felt like his soul was being ripped from his body.
He turned his head to see glowing blue phantom chains hooked into his body. The chains pulsed with an otherworldly light, and at the other end, the remaining phantoms were gathered, pulling on them like a group of children playing tug-of-war.
His vision blurred. His body felt weak, like it was being torn away from the physical realm. He dropped to his knees, the chains now in front of him after he turned. The pain was unbearable, pure, soul-deep agony.
Iskar began to regret everything.
'I was too cocky.' The feeling of newfound power, the thrill of crushing skulls in a single hit, the adrenaline rush of leveling up and gaining EXP, it had all gone to his head. It hit his dopamine like a drug, making him addicted to the kill.
That addiction had blinded him. Of course, he'd get himself into a situation like this. He didn't even know what these phantoms were capable of.
They were pulling harder now, and he felt them succeeding. The more he screamed, the more they seemed to gain strength. His body was fading, his connection to the physical world slipping away.
He suddenly felt a final lurch.
He was out.
Iskar looked down. He saw his body still on its knees, head lolled forward, completely limp. It looked dead. Well, deader. He even managed to get a fleeting glimpse of what he looked like from the outside, a mummy wrapped in filthy bandages, kneeling in surrender. But he didn't have time to dwell on it.
Because the phantom chains were still hooked deep into his soul, and the spectral figures were pulling him away from his physical shell.
He fought. He kicked and struggled against the ethereal tug, a fish on a hook fighting the line. He was trying to swim back to his body. They pulled, and they were stronger than him as a disembodied soul. But his soul... was fighting. He was fighting.
He stretched, straining against the relentless pull. He was close. Just a fingertip away.
And.
And.
And.
A...
Touch.
His spectral finger brushed the bandaged shoulder of his corporeal form. It was like completing a circuit. A jolt of connection surged through him, and he felt himself slam back into his body, back in control.
But the hooks were still in. The moment he was fully back, the chains went taut again with a sharp crack that echoed in his mind. He felt the terrifying sensation of his soul beginning to separate once more.
"Not aga...ain!" he grunted through clenched teeth, his body shuddering.
He had to find a way. His eyes, wide with panic and pain, locked onto the glowing blue chains. His mind worked fast.
'I could touch their ghostly bodies... This chain is connected to them. If I can touch it...'
With a monumental effort, he stretched his hand away from his body, not towards the phantoms, but towards the chain itself. His bandaged fingers closed around the glowing energy. He could feel it, a vibrating cord of power.
He gripped it and tried to pull, to yank the phantoms off balance. But they would not budge. He couldn't out-strength them in this tug-of-war.
A desperate thought flashed. "Then take their strength."
He gripped the chain harder, his glare fixed on the spectral mob. The pain was getting worse; he could barely form the thought, so he grunted it out, a raw, guttural command.
"Ab..sorb!"
For a moment, nothing. Then, he felt a trickle. A slow, resistant flow of energy moving from the chain into him. The phantoms fought back, their pull intensifying. But Iskar didn't yield. He felt the energy, cold and sharp, flooding into his soul and body.
He repeated the command, screaming it now, as if volume could force the ability to work harder.
"ABSORB!!!!"
He pushed with every ounce of his will. And the tide turned. The chains, instead of pulling him out, began to feed him. He was no longer the prey being dragged; he was the parasite, sucking the life from the hunters. He pulled them in.
A flood of messages cascaded through his vision, but he ignored every single one.
[+2 Magical Power]
[+1 Magical Power]
[+2 Spirit]
[+2 Spirit]
The notifications were a blur. All that mattered was the flow of the energy.
[You have leveled up to Level 6]
[You have leveled up to Level 7]
[You have leveled up to Level 8]
More came. He heard a collective shriek from the phantoms, a sound of pure terror and agony that almost broke his concentration. But he persisted, a vortex of consumption, draining them until their forms began to flicker and fade.