"Master!" An almost desperate wail echoed through the castle's wide halls. The sound rolled through the ancient structure with ease and reached the morose-looking man seated in the throne room. The castle was old, much older than some civilizations, and it was empty. The curse of time had torn through furniture, carpets, and every other piece of decoration, leaving the vast hall barren except for the towering throne and the young man sitting upon it.
The brows of his almost childlike face creased as the wail resounded again, an echo of "Master!", "Master!", and "Master!"
"What is it?" he sighed, his crimson eyes flashing dangerously as a shadowy figure emerged from the throne's darkest corners.
"Master!" it wailed, kneeling to the ground. "The experiment has failed. We failed you, Master!"
"Which experiment?" The man cocked his head to the side. "The infiltration of the Clans? No, I can still sense his Mark. The Order has yet to notice anything either. That means you must be talking about the Chosen."
He nodded slowly. "I know about the failures."
Of course he had sensed the loss of his Marks. The Bite was not something everyone could handle. Weak Chosen would often die simply because they were unworthy. Or they would turn into mindless thralls. Those did not deserve his attention. Neither did the children who died before their Choosing.
It was unfortunate, but the death of a few dozen did not matter in a game that had already lasted centuries. A war that was bound to take even longer. Even those who survived and awakened shortly after did not deserve his attention. Only a few had ever made him curious.
"The Chosen, Master!" the shadowy creature wailed.
"I know about their demise. It does not matter."
One Mark, however, had been intriguing. She had been weak, unable to finish the transformation, and had nearly starved to death. Yet she survived. Then, one day, she exploded. The Mark burned deep inside her, and starvation gave way to a feast of seemingly endless hunger. Even the young man seated upon the throne had sensed her hunger through the Mark. It was a bottomless pit.
Unfortunately, she did not last long. She died. Multiple times. At last, her vampiric power failed. She died a true death. Her Mark faded and returned to the young man, carrying all the information her unworthy Progeny had gathered. Everything she had experienced.
He had been mildly surprised when he learned that she had been kidnapped right in front of the Order. They had always been corrupt, but acting so openly was unlike them. It was far more intriguing than his little experiments.
The loss of a Marked was not nearly as valuable as the entertainment he received. And the information.
The Zertian Empire was preparing for war. And this time, its vessels were not even shying away from using Cursed Powers against their enemies.
Was it desperation, greed, or plain ignorance of the threat they brought upon the entire land that made them act so foolishly? The young man did not know, but he was curious nonetheless. Whether the Cursed Powers would survive, and how the realm would deal with them once they rose to power. Because rise they would.
Cursed Powers were bound to rise to power if they were not dealt with quickly. They were not restrained by the threads of fate. Their lives did not rest in the hands of the gods.
***
There was a river.
I was sure of it. When I fell into the forest, I had seen something–a massive blue body snaking through the endless expanse of trees. Maybe there had been more than one, but that one had caught my attention.
I was certain it was there, somewhere. Be that as it may, knowing something existed somewhere did not help all that much. I neither knew the direction I had to head, nor did I know how far the river was from my current location. Hence, my knowledge was entirely useless.
"The serpent," I mused, rubbing my chin.
It had to get water from somewhere to survive. That meant there had to be a water source nearby… right? Then again, some monsters could survive for a very long time without water or food. I wasn't too sure about serpents, but if it could drink as much as it ate, I doubted it would need food and water very often.
Since I didn't have much of a choice, nor a reason to stay rooted in this place, I headed north. At least, I hoped I was heading north. I tried to orient myself using clues like moss, the direction the flowers pointed, and anything else I could find to keep walking in the same direction, yet I couldn't find anything reliable no matter how long I walked.
No less than a few hours must have passed as I fought my way through the densely grown forest. I hadn't found anything other than a few fruits, a lot of dangerous plants–one of which tried to eat me whole–and many beautiful flowers and other strange things. I found a few sturdy branches, one of which was as long as a pole and mostly straight. While far from perfect, it would have to do.
With a little effort and quite a lot of time wasted, I collected some vines and created a makeshift spear using one of the Arok Serpent's fangs and the branch. It would do, or break apart the moment I was forced into combat.
My feet hurt, my throat was parched, and the suns abandoned me one after another. As the first sun disappeared, I cursed my luck but continued onward. What else was I supposed to do, except search for shelter? I put that thought aside for as long as I could, which wasn't very long, as feral growls and terrifying sounds echoed through the darkening forest.
My only saving grace was the warmth that never abated. It stayed relatively constant even as the sunlight faded.
"Gods no. That's it," I cursed quietly, spinning around as a branch snapped behind me. I turned, but I didn't smell much other than my own sweat and an animal's musk.
I couldn't control my shaking limbs as I stared into the darkness of the bush that had just rustled, but nothing emerged. The musk grew stronger, urging me to move faster. Cursing my fortune, I rushed through the forest, ignoring the thorns that ripped through cloth and skin.
As soon as the musk faded, I climbed a tree and shifted into my Blue Slime form. Fortuna returned to my side as I located a gap near the tree's crown. I squeezed inside, leaving the fang and makeshift spear behind.
Then I closed my… eyes, I supposed, hoping that whatever had been behind me hadn't followed me…or that, if it had, it would be too perplexed to search for me in that tiny gap among the branches.
Time passed slowly, and I fell asleep. At least, I thought I did. Honestly, it was hard to tell as a Blue Slime. My Core was no longer strained, and the exhaustion I'd accumulated over the day faded away. That had to count for something.
As scared as I was, I couldn't stay in the tree crown forever. I wiggled out of the gap, my senses shooting outward. The tree crown unfurled around me, quickly followed by the fang, the makeshift spear, and a… waterskin?
That wasn't there before.
I did not have a waterskin.
What in the Netherworld is happening here?!?