38 Chapter XXXVIII: From the Frying Pan and Into the Flame (1)

In the bottom of the Dark Sea lies a kingdom engulfed in darkness. A protective dome surrounded the kingdom and protected it from the steel-crunching pressure at such a depth.

Inside the kingdom were three distinct regions separated by thick, protective walls. The smallest region and the one in the center of the kingdom was where a magnificent palace stood with silent majesty - a symbol of perseverance against the ravages of time.

Around the palace was a wall, which separated it from the next region. Surrounding the palace at all sides was a region dotted with less majestic but still impressive mansions, manors, and other building whose appearance expressed the sheer wealth of their owners. This playground of wealth was encircled by another wall that separated the rich residents from their less prosperous kin.

Finally, the final region that made up the kingdom didn't hold any of the majesty and beauty of the previous two, but it was by far larger than both of the combined. Inside the outer most region of the kingdom stood hundreds of thousands of houses of various designs and conditions.

The ones closest to the inner wall were in much better shape, and their material was more robust than the ones father away. The farther the house was from the inner wall, the worse its condition was, and the more haphazard was its design and placement.

On top of one of the more architecturally sound houses, which stood near the inner wall, sat William with a luminous ball of light floating over his head in defiance against gravity.

His features were marred with a mixture of disgust and curiosity as his eyes alternated between the shimmering Spell runes before him and the memory held in his prosthetic hand.

In his hand was a mask that looked every part like one of those props seen in old horror movies in his previous world. It was made from what seemed to be scraps of some pale, fleshy material that had been stitched together by thick, rotting strings. Moreover, the eyes and mouth of the mask were also stitched shut in a less-than-artistic manner, making the horredous mask even less visually appealing.

(Image)

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[Sinner's Repentance: Once, in a kingdom long erased from the annals of history was a man; a man who had no qualms in using his looks and silver tongue to achieve his carnal desires. For him, age was just a number, and consent was just a trifle. Using his supernatural abilities, he charmed and manipulated the mind of his victims to quench his hedonism. However, it all came crashing down one day when he tried his tricks on a target beyond his station: a War Saintess trainee.

The man got his eyes gouged out, his tongue cut, and his ears burned shut for his crimes and hubris. His handsome face was skinned and turned into a hideous mask for him to wear. His body and spirit were broken by his captors.

Yet, it was in this period of sensory deprivation that the broken soul heard the calling of his Lord.]

Memory Name: Sinner's Repentance

Memory Rank: Awakened

Memory Tier: IV

Memory Type: Tool

Memory Enchantment: [Condemnation], [Chains of Restriction], [Suffer No Evil]

[Condemnation]

Enchantment Description: This memory can be worn forced onto others via physical contact. It attaches to their skin and can't be removed by those of equal or lower soul rank than it.

[Chains of Restriction]

Enchantment Description: Spectral chains manifest and drain the wearer's soul essence.

[Suffer No Evil]

Enchantment Description: The owner of the memory can remove one of the following senses from the wearer: sight, hearing, or speech.

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Unlike any other memory he had seen before, the Sinner's Repentance was not a memory that is normally worn by its owner. Rather, it was like some kind of torture device that was to be forced onto others.

After reading about its origin and what it was made from, he was relieved that he didn't have to wear the damned thing.

"That fucking goat man was an incorrigible piece of shit even before he became what he was," said William he dismissing the runes and mask memory in a whirlwind of sparks.

"Well, you can't say that he wasn't persistent," a voice eerily similar to William but with slight distortion in its tone said next to him. The white-haired sleeper turned to look at other William sitting next to him on the roof's edge with his feet dangling. "That guy had such a hate boner for the War Saintess that he abducted her and raped her for the better part of several millenia. That pussy must be grippin' somethinig fierce if he did it till it stank - literally."

Halfway though what Faker said, William was already pinching the bridge of his nose, "Can you not...."

"Not what?"

"I don't know what you said in the end but I can't help but feel that it bismirches the memory of the dead. Give that poor girl a break," continued the youth as he gave his illusory copy a serious stink eye.

"Why are you getting angry at me?" he asked incredulously with a cheshire grin stretching his mouth. "I'm only using what's stored in here." He pointed at the young Sleeper's head.

"After everything is said and done, I am still a creation of your sick, broken mind."

"I don't even know what 'Pussy grippin' means!" he protested.

"Don't you?" Faker simply asked. His cheshire grin was lost and instead replaced by a stone cold expression. "You can't suppress it forever, you know."

The imaginary William's expression and tone were already giving the real one the creeps not to mention the words he said, "Suppress what? Talk clearly!"

"All will be revealed in due time," Faker simply said with a weirdly sad smile before vanishing in a blink.

"Don't die too much till then.....," were the final words of his that echoed in his brain.

William checked his immediate vicinity to ensure that he was truly gone before returning back to his previous position. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, "Vulgar, cryptic asshole. As if I need anymore mysteries to wrap my head around."

Then, silence reigned as the boy thought about what his copy had said. Closing his eyes, he took a trip down his memory lane.

Of course, if it had been before, William wouldn't have dared to close his eyes and meditate so deeply in the open in fear of being ambushed. However, after eradicating the cult and the disappearance of the Darkspawn Army, there was no other being living in the slums other than him. He checked.

Minutes passed in a crawl as William kept his in his state of deep thought. Then, after an unknown amount of time, he opened his eyes. William would admit that he doesn't have a photographic memory to go with his eidetic kinesthesia but he had a pretty impressive recalling ability, which allowed him to search through his life's memories for anything that may hint to whatever suppression Faker was talking about.

The result was as he expected, his imaginary copy was just trying to fuck with his head. He remembered everything from his early childhood to the night he fell asleep on his bed while reading Shadow Slave on his phone before finding himself in his first nightmare.

There was nothing there that he had been suppressing and he had only died once so he was certain that his memories were still largely intact.

With a huff, William shook off the stray thoughts from his mind and concentrated on the more important things - his advancement into becoming a Demon.

Upon killing the False Shepherd, he was able to fill up his soul fragment quota and succeeded in forming his third soul core. Unfortunately, due to the hectic nature of the battlefield then, he didn't have the leisure to check what new ability he received by becoming a demon.

Per his will, shimmering runes began forming before the pale teenager.

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Undead Monarch Abilities: [Mantle of Death], [Undead Resilience], [Soul Sight]

[Soul Sight] ability description: [Your eyes can see beyond the corporeal world.]

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Apparently, he could now see souls - or so the ability's name suggested. The mechanism behind it is still a mystery to him since he didn't have any test subjects to try it on.

It was pretty thematic of his aspect, he supposed, for him to get such an ability; although, he would've prefered something more combat oriented.

'Well, at least my soul essence capacity is tripled now,' he thought before dismissing his runes, 'silver linings, Will. Focus on the silver linings.'

Soul essence - or the lack thereof - was the reason he has been sitting on his ass for a while rather than delving deeper into the heart of Leonia.

His last fight had almost completely drained of soul essence due to his spell casting, memory usage, and echo summoning.

Thus, instead of charging into an unknown territory half-mast, he opted for the more cautious approach of waiting for his soul essence to fill back up before doing anything dangerous.

Speaking of doing dangerous things, his idle mind wandered to the memory of the days he traveled the Coral Labyrinth with Cassie, Nephis, and Sunny. He wondered whether they reached the Soul Devouring Tree yet. Did they kill the Carapace Demon safely? Were they ethralled under the nightmare creature's influence right now?

Soon a chuckle escaped William's lips. It was strange that he was worried over others when he was in a much more dangerous situation than them. At least, they had big roles to play in the future, so it was very unlikely for them to die anytime soon especially when they were traveling with the bastard child of Fate.

They were going to manage well enough on their own; this was their world and they were the main characters of it. Instead, It was him who was the outsider stuck in the middle of buttfuck nowhere practically breathing in corruption.

Even though he didn't quite know how he died before waking up here, it must have happened immediately after completing the Familiar Summoning ritual for Cassie since that is the last thing he remembered before waking up in the Fire Tower.

They probably saw him die. Him being alive would be a very delicate subject to explain if he meets them again when he gets out of here.

Yes, he used 'when' instead of 'if' because he will find a way to get out of this death trap of a kingdom by hook or by crook.

Anyways, for the matter of being alive, William could possibly claim that he survived thanks to a memory he had that kept him alive since he remembered Sunny having some sort of armor with a similar enchantment in the future.

It is going to be a stretch for them to fully believe the story but they couldn't prove that he didn't. Also, when their options were either a life saving memory and the possibility that someone was actually immortal, they would rather believe the latter rather than the former.

Well, his worries could also go down the drain if he didn't escape in time for Nephis' suicidal charge at the Crimson Spire.

William reached back to hold a few of his hair strands. When he arrived here, his hair was cut short as he used the cut hair as a brush for Cassie's ritual. Now, his hair had lengthened to reach his neck.

'How much time have passed?' he wondered. 'A month? Maybe two?'

(A.N. 5 months have passed with William in Leonia.)

With the perpetual darkness and the loss of his circadian rhythm, William had no way of estimating how much time passed other than rough estimates that may or may not be accurate.

'I wonder if they had reached the Soul Devouring Tree already,' thought William while observing the ever-silent darkness around him, 'or if they had reached the Dark City already?'

His thoughts soon carried over to a certain blond haired oracle who he spent most of his time in this world with, 'I hope that Cass' familiar would be able to help her. With her being able to see again, she could probably return to being a fencer faster than in canon. At least, she would be able to defend herself on her own now.'

Incidentally, it was then that he felt his soul essence fill back up to full capacity again but this time, he had an extra core of essence to burn through.

William picked himself up from his seat and began moving towards the inner wall via his favorite method of transportation: roof hopping. Soon enough, he reached his destination.

Standing before the gargantuan wall, William couldn't help but stare in awe at the robust structure. The tallest wall he had ever seen before was the one surrounding the Awakened Academy. Yet, this one beat it in both size and sheer imposing nature.

Of course, one would ask why was he staring dumbly at the wall itself rather than walking through the open gate to the other side.

'I can't help but feel that walking through the gate directly is just a trap waiting to happen,' he analyzed in his mind, 'scaling the wall would be a more laborous process but it will hopefully be a lot safer than the alternative.'

William approached the wall as four spider-like appendages emerged from the back of his Osseous Exoskeleton. Maybe it was his Adaptive attribute at play or maybe it was thanks to his countless hours of practice in using and manipulating his prosthetic arm, but he could now alter the appearance of his armor memory to fit his needs by instinct alone. The bony limbs immediately lunged forward at the stone of the inner wall to start the climbing process.

Tac! Tac! Tac! Tac!

The four pale limbs struck at the wall and promptly failed to pierce the imposing structure.

William's cerulean-colored eyes quivered at the scene he just witnessed.

Again and again, the bony limbs of the struck at the stone wall and they failed to pierce through it over and over again. Until....

Crick! Crack!

Hairline cracks began forming onto the abused limbs while the wall remained as seemless as ever.

The youth looked at the cracked spider appendages with a conflicted gaze.

'This is an ascended armor memory of the fourth tier....,' he thought in surprise, 'just what type of abominations was this wall supposed to repel?'

He would've felt fear if not for the [Fearless] enchantment present on the Icon of War memory hanging around his neck.

With a heavy sigh, William retracted the four bony limbs back into the pale armor. He didn't account for the wall to be tougher than an Ascended memory. That put a wrench in his plan to scale up the wall to get to the other side as the armor was the highest ranked memory in his arsenal if one excluded the Teardrop Amulet.

No, there was one memory with a higher ranking - probably.

With a thought, a whirlwind of sparks manifested from thin air and began coalescing into a very familiar looking weapon.

Shortly, Frostmourne manifested into existence in all of its wicked glory. The two glowing runes on its blade shimmered with profane power as the young Lich King held the fabled mourneblade's hilt.

According to the Legacy memory's runes, for some unknown reason, even the Nightmare Spell couldn't determine the rank of the baleful weapon. He only hoped that it was able to pierce throught he formidable stone making up the wall. Otherwise, he would have to try his luck at going through the gate.

After taking in a deep breath, William struck at the wall with Frostmourne's tip. Thankfully, or rather concerningly, the mourneblade faced some initial resistance but after the introduction of more force, it managed to embed itself into the black wall.

The youth let out a relieved sigh at this. Then, he began the long and arduous process of climbing up the towering wall one sword strike at a time - thankfully, he couldn't get physically tired.

While ascending the wall, he couldn't help but draw similarities between what he was currently doing and the time in his first nightmare when he had to ascend the mountain said to get to the snow clearing. His eye twitched at the memory.

He dearly hoped that it was there where the similarities ended. 

After an eternity of climbing up the wall, William finally reached its summit. At the top of the inner wall, he stood on the eerily empty battlement where various ancient looking siege weaponry were left unguarded. He recognized some which looked like the trebuchets, ballistas, and catapults he read about in his history classes back when he attended school. There were other devices present but for the life of him, he couldn't make heads or tails of what they were supposed to be.

Walking to the other side of the battlement, William was greeted by a sight vastly different from anything he saw in the slums.

Unlike the randomly placed buildings found in the slums that looked like they were about to breakdown with a single breeze, the region behind the wall was extremely spacious with fancy-looking building spaced at different intervals of one another but never too close to be called cramped. Then, a realization came upon him: his previous method of movement would not be possible in this environment.

It was not the worst thing that could happen, since thanks to his new memories, his speed far exceeded that of an average Sleeper. As long as nothing too outrageous reared its ugly head, the young Lich King was confident in outrunning his problems.

With that consideration put aside, he continued his observation of the ground below, 'What would you know? There are even properly paved streets and roads!'

He also noticed that there was one essential factor that separated this region from the slums even more: there was light.

On the sides of the street and in many of the other building in the region, there were what he could only describe as lampposts that illuminated a small area around it. It was not sunlight or anything but it was something.

It was just that the light was blue in color - for some reason - giving the world a haunting hue. Yet, even with the minimalistic lighting, the roads were all that he was able to see thanks to the darkness covering everything like thick smog.

Seeing that he could not see much else from where he was, William looked away and began searching for a way to descend down to the other side of the wall. Surely a wall as big and tall as this had some way to allow for soldiers to move up and down from it.

After a few seconds of searching, he found tens of metallic ladders attached to the side of the wall leading to the ground below.

'Quite convenient,' he thought, thankful at not needing to climb down the same way he came up.

After a few minutes of sliding down the ladder, William finally made contact with the ground. Blue light from the evenly placed lampposts washed over him as he stepped foot into the new territory. He looked around for any signs of danger but failed to find anything of note.

Yet, with a mental command, a shower of sparks manifested in front of him and began forming into Frostmourne. Then, the second rune on Frostmourne began glowing as the mourneblade began changing form.

The first part that changed was a round pommel that connected to a slender grip wrapped in old leather strips. Following that came an intricately designed hit with a elaborate crossguard that extended outwards in a traditional european style.

Finally, came the blade: it was long and slender with mysterious flourishes and carvings etched into the metal of the weapon. Its edges curved slightly at the top to form a formidable sharp tip. The sword held visible signs of wear and aging like a veteran, battle-scar ridden soldier.

It looked tired and lonely but promised deadly retribution to any enemy blocking its path.

(Image)

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[Tarnished Duty: By his command, his soldiers marched. By his command, they brandished their spears. By his command, they killed the very same people they swore to protect. By his command, their sacred duty was tarnished.]

Memory Name: Tarnished Duty

Memory Rank: Awakened

Memory Tier: V

Memory Type: Weapon

Memory Enchantment: [Rally], [Sentinel], [Burden of Responsibility], [Duty Above All]

[Rally]

Enchantment Description: Consume essense to give a temporary enhancement to your allies' morale.

[Sentinel]

Enchantment Description: You can't be surprised while in battle.

[Burden of Responsibility]

Enchantment Description: Foes harmed by this memory find their motion temporarily stricted. This effect can stack up to a certain degree.

[Duty Above All]

Enchantment Description: By utilizing essence you can block your sensation of pain. However, when essence is no longer supplied, all the blocked pain will rebound all at once.

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It was the sword that the Darkspawn Commander had left behind after the final battle at the ziggurat. Imagine his surprise when it dissipated as soon as he touched it and a notification came from the Nightmare Spell that he had acquired a new memory.

It provided him into much needed understanding of the nightmare creatures he had been fighting for all this time. According to his understanding of the nature of nightmare creatures, it was not like all nightmare creatures were mindless monsters that only craved destruction. Rather, nightmare creatures also had passions and emotions; it was just that, those were brought to a perverse extreme and twisted beyond comprehension.

The Darkspawn Soldiers' and their commander's passion was most likely their sense of duty: a duty to eradicate the heretical cult.

He knew that he was just hypothesizing without any solid proof but from the descriptions of the memories and echoes he received from them, he was fairly certain that it was the only drive left inside them. Thus, when their duty was done, they could finally rest. They were more akin to remnant spirits than nightmare creatures in that regard.

Regardless, William had more pressing matters to attend to than debate the finder points of nightmare creature psychology.

With a weapon in hand, William closed his eyes briefly before opening them again. The usually dim glow of his cerulean eyes now increased in intensity as he utilized his newest ability:

[Soul Sight]

Out of nowhere, hundreds of small black orbs appeared in his vision. Some were solitary, and some were in clusters of two, three, or four of such orbs clumped together.

When he concentrated on one of the solitary orbs, shimmering spell runes began manifesting before his eyes.

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[Darkspawn Knight]

Rank: Fallen

Class: Beast

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If not for the [Fearless] enchantment keeping his fear suppressed, William would've started shaking by now since there were tens of such solitary dark orbs in his immediate vicinity alone.

'Did I just leave the frying pan to simply burn myself in the fire?' He thought to himself as his mind tried coming into terms with what he was seeing.

Despite his better judgment, he moved his attention to one of the three clusters consisting of four black orbs, and similar to his previous attempt, runes began appearing in midair.

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[Havel, the Immovable Rock]

Rank: Fallen

Class: Devil

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Suddenly, the probability of him leaving this place without hollowing or going mad seemed pretty bleak.

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Well, this is it for this chapter.

I hope you guys enjoyed it.

If you did, (I will now be shilling my fanfic), please give power gems and write a review for future readers.

Did anyone else cringe after reading the last sentence, or were I the only one?

At any rate, I bid you a great day.