Chapter Three
"Scribe"
* * * * * * * * * * *
I read over the description of the trait several times, not quite believing my eyes.
<Scribe>
[This trait grants the ability to chronicle any event you have witnessed first-hand.]
What does that even mean?? Are you saying this trait is the equivalent of pen-and-paper?
I recalled the demon that the arrow had pierced and remembered they were holding a quill and scroll.
Oh god... I killed his scribe.
A demonic roar echoed through the air. I looked down to find Baphomet charging towards me, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Several notifications appeared on the display in rapid succession:
[Log Entry: Baphomet has determined my location.]
[Log Entry: Baphomet is closing in on me.]
[Log Entry: Baphomet has arrived. Danger imminent.]
I looked up and saw Baphomet high above me, somehow having leaped from hundreds of meters below. He fell towards me like a meteor, arm cocked back, prepared to strike.
My instincts took over as my body hurled itself backwards. The ground shook as Baphomet's fist shattered the earth, missing me by mere inches.
[Log Entry: I avoided Baphomet's attack!]
Thank you log entries... That really helps.
I desperately rolled back onto my feet and saw Baphomet rising to full height. He was easily over two meters tall, arms thick as cannons, rippling with sinewy muscles covered in dark, matted fur. His goat horns curled into the sky like a warning sign.
Baphomet's nostrils flared, letting out a plume of hot air as he snorted at me.
"An aberrant... At the start of your journey, eh?"
He glanced at the log entry my new trait had generated and smirked.
"You stole my scribe's ability. He was very useful, you know. Kept detailed records of all my exploits."
I watched as Baphomet flexed his fingers. Threads of light weaved their way through the ground and up his tree trunk legs. The muscles in his arms and legs slowly grew, feeding on the energy he was absorbing from the earth.
[Log Entry: Baphomet has activated his trait, Chaos Berserker.]
< Chaos Berserker >
[This trait allows the user to collect aether from the environment itself to enhance physical abilities.
This trait is highly dependent on geography and cannot be used to increase the user's overall aether points.]
Baphomet lifted one of his massive arms, then brought it swinging down like a hammer. Somehow, my legs responded in time as I dodged the blow, but the concussive force sent ripples through the air, nearly shattering my ear-drum.
Shit... If even one of those lands, I'm dead!
I suddenly felt an unsettling calm in the air. I looked behind me and saw Baphomet leaning over, legs tense. The muscles in his calves doubled in size.
Then he took off towards me! I felt the earth tremble against the strength of his legs. He was like a bullet the size of a tank.
He swiped his giant hands at me. I just barely managed to lift my arm up in defense. His monstrous strength crushed my arm like a toothpick and threw me against a boulder. I felt my skull whip back against the hard rock.
[-5 Aether Points: (10/100)]
The world seemed to spin as my brain rattled inside my skull. As my vision slowly cleared, I saw something curious—a bone sticking out of my forearm.
[Log Entry: I have a radial fracture of the forearm.]
I could see the nerve endings exposed to the air, frayed and torn against the shattered bone. The shock and adrenaline slowly gave way to an intense, electric pain, and I let out a cry of agony.
I might be dead, but the pain felt incredibly real.
I felt the footsteps of the gargantuan demon slowly approaching. I tried desperately to crawl away, using my one good arm to pull through the dirt. My efforts were in vain as I felt large claws grab me by the neck and lift me into the air.
Baphomet's smile widened and his jaw began to open, revealing razor sharp incisors and the stench of rotting meat. His claws dug into my skin, drawing blood. His iron grip choked the air out of my lugs.
[Log Entry: Baphomet is choking me.]
[-2 Aether Points: (8/100)]
[Log Entry: My oxygen supply has been cut short.]
[-3 Aether Points: (5/100)]
Baphomet's eyes flitted back and forth, scanning the displays, his foul grin growing with each new update. "Do you know what it feels like when your soul runs out of aether? Time passes slowly and it feels like your body is being ripped apart, one atom at a time."
I searched desperately for a weapon, anything that could help me fight back. That's when I remembered my inventory—the demon's bone I stored inside it earlier.
It just might be sharp enough to damage him, but there's no way he'd let me get close. I have to surprise him...
Then, an idea popped into my mind. It could work, but I would only get one shot at it.
The first thing I had to do was create some distance. I had to make him want to drag this out.
I smirked at the goat, "You're so interested in my log entries. Here's some reading material for you."
[Log Entry: I collected spit into my mouth.]
[Log Entry: I gathered as much mucus as humanly possible from the back of my throat.]
[Log Entry: I watched Baphomet grow angry as he realized what I'm about to do.]
[Log Entry: I spit directly into Baphomet's eyes.]
Baphomet wiped the massive glob of spit from his eyes, then threw me into the ground as hard as he could. My body crumpled against the rock and created a loud crack as my knee popped out of its joint.
I stifled the pain and scampered away like a field mouse, sliding across the sand-covered rock.
Let's see if this works...
I picked up a small pebble and threw it at Baphomet. As I did this, I tried to consciously control the alerts so that nothing came up.
Baphomet slapped the pebble away with a flick of his wrist. No displays came up.
Good, that means I can control the frequency of the alerts.
I slid backwards along the ground, collecting a bit of sand in my hand.
Just a little more...
Baphomet lumbered towards me. Finally, I tossed all the sand I had collected into the air. It created a harmless cloud of yellow dust. Baphomet burst out in laughter, bleating like a goat.
"Sand in the eyes? Really?"
But his laughter stopped when a display appeared before him.
[Log Entry: I threw a grain of sand at Baphomet.]
Displays suddenly appeared around Baphomet's head. Hundreds upon hundreds, all saying the same thing:
[Log Entry: I threw a grain of sand at Baphomet.]
[Log Entry: I threw a grain of sand at Baphomet.]
[Log Entry: I threw a grain of sand at Baphomet.]
[Log Entry: I threw a grain of sand at Baphomet.]
[Log Entry: I threw a grain of sand at Baphomet.]
[x500]
The displays blinded Baphomet's field of view. Every which way he turned he was met with one of my displays. He swung his arms wildly, only for them to pass right through with no effect.
Before Baphomet could realize, I summoned the demon bone from my inventory, then threw my entire body at him. I pierced his chest and pressed with all my strength until I heard the crack of his sternum and the squish of his heart beneath my hands.
He gasped in pain, unable to breathe with the bone lodged in his chest.
Baphomet pressed his fingers into the earth, pulling aether into his body. In a last ditch attempt, he grabbed my head and squeezed as hard as he could. I felt his fingers pressing down against my skull. But I didn't give in. I pushed the bone in harder and saw Baphomet's face contort in pain and desperation.
In that moment, I wondered—Is this what I looked like when I died?
The pressure against my skull suddenly went away. Baphomet's arm went limp and fell to his side. The demon's body began to glow and then dissipate into golden particles—aether—that entered my chest.
[Log Entry: I killed Baphomet, The Sabbatic Goat.]
[+95 Aether Points: (100/100)]
[You may now enter the Inferno.]
I laid there. My forearm snapped in two. My leg shattered. I was broken and alone.
Well, maybe not alone.
Elara materialized before me in a puff of smoke. She seemed impressed, but tried not to show it.
"Not bad... Baphomet's a tough one."
"Elara, thank god... Is there a way to heal me?"
"Sure there is. If you ascend to a new Circle of Hell, you get restored to full health..."
I breathed a sigh of relief.
"... all you have to do is reach the Inferno."
That relief quickly evaporated, leaving me in a cold sweat. I couldn't even walk in this state.
"Can you help me...?" I asked with more than a hint of desperation in my voice.
A sly, devilish grin formed on Elara's lips. "Sorry, but guides can only provide information. You'll have to get there yourself."
I was afraid she would say that. I gazed up at the Inferno, towering over us. It was only a few miles away, but in my injured state, it might as well be on the other end of the world.
"Seems like you've got a straight shot to it." Elara held her hand above her eyes like a visor. "Baphomet's underlings have scattered. Says a lot about the loyalty of demons, huh?"
I hung my head in defeat. The undertaking seemed too difficult. Too painful. A part of me wanted to stay there, where I could have a moment of peace.
Elara flew down to my level, "What happened to all that confidence? I thought you wanted another chance at life?"
Her words made me think about the life I had lost. The future that was taken from me. Was it worth the agony?
You're damn right it is.
I pulled myself along the dirt, angling myself towards the Inferno. Each movement sent jolts of pain shooting through my body—a cruel reminder of what was to come.
I fought through it and reminded myself that the pain was the only thing keeping me from my goal.
Elara smiled, "It's always funny how much torture humans themselves through. You really are built differently, aren't you—"
"Elara," I interrupted her. "If you're not going to help me, then at least get the fuck out of my way."
Elara raised an eyebrow, then clapped her hands and vanished.
Finally, some quiet.
I gave myself a moment to prepare. I had made my camp on the cliffside and would have to make my way down the hill. From there, it was at least two miles of empty wasteland until I reached the Inferno. I had one arm and one leg that could still move. That would have to be enough.
With one hand, I clawed at the dirt, pulling myself forward. With my foot, I found footholds of rock to push against. Inch by inch, I made my way closer to the Inferno. Every inch, I felt the air get a little bit warmer.
I must have been a sight to behold. Caked in dirt and dried blood, I might not even have looked human anymore. Over time, the pain seemed to dull. It was as if my body realized my brain had gone on autopilot and told the nerves, "Just stop firing. This guy's not listening."
I focused on just two thoughts—pull with my arm, and push with my leg. For a moment in time, those two thoughts became my entire life. I repeated them over and over, like a prayer, until the air became scorching hot. My skin peeled as it burned against the heat of the Inferno.
I had arrived.
Now, the journey would begin.
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