Arthur’s eyes were wet with tears, and a part of his tongue was missing. It seemed that in the time he’d been dead to the world, he’d managed to bite it off and swallow it. He’d also cracked one of his molars, and his palms were bloody, though the crescent-shaped scars he expected to be there were nowhere to be seen. His body healed far too quickly for that.

  Arthur stayed like that for a while, lying down on his bed and staring up at the ceiling as he re-familiarised himself with everything he’d once taken for granted. The steady thrum of his heartbeat. The soothing sensation of warm air on his skin. How great feeling everything was, even the itching pain in his mouth as his tongue regrew. He felt alive again, the memories of his time spent senseless already fading like an old dream. Now that he had a body again, he couldn’t quite remember what it felt like to be without one.

  Ten minutes later, Arthur felt ready to face the world again. Pulling up his System logs, he read through the wall of text that had been waiting for him. There were a lot of warnings telling him to discontinue his illegal experiments, twenty-four to be exact, and three warnings that told him his soul was at risk of going supernova. Then there came the final warnings, cautioning him about succumbing to corruption, though this one was directed more to those around him.

  It turned out that anyone within one hundred miles of him who had access to the System had been alerted about his imminent corruption. Had this taken place on Earth, Arthur would have been well and truly screwed, but here on Haadran, he didn’t have much to worry about. There were little to no System users on the planet, and any Fringe Walkers who had decided to come here would avoid the Daggerfall Mountain Range like the plague.

  Finally, Arthur turned his attention to the juicy stuff. What had happened to Wovan? A quick glance at his trusty bowl revealed that she wasn’t in there anymore, nor did it seem like she was anywhere in the room, for that matter. Delving into his soul, Arthur analysed the splinter that formed her consciousness. Tracing that link to her whereabouts told him Wovan was far outside the city, and judging by the colour of her emotions, viciously devouring her recently killed prey.

  Before Arthur could draw himself back, the room around him disappeared, and the crimson of blood overtook his vision. It took him a second to realise what had happened. Arthur's consciousness had hitched a ride onto one of Wovan’s many bodies, completely disregarding the miles of distance that separated them. Arthur wasn’t able to manipulate the body he was attached to in any way, shape or form; he was merely a passenger tagging along for the ride, but he could already think of a few ways this would be extremely useful.

  Unfortunately, the body he was currently in was deep inside the corpse of a bipedal wolf, so there was very little to see in the way of changes Wovan had gone through. Arthur sent the executive order to have her return to the room, promising he’d let her return to her meal as soon as he’d gotten a good look at her. Three seconds later, Arthur’s bed crashed to the floor, Wovan having decided it was a brilliant idea to teleport all her bodies onto it.

  Arthur had always considered himself brave, but he might have let out a less than manly sound at the sight of so many spiders suddenly surrounding him. It didn't matter that she was his Soul Splinter, literally created from a part of him. Spiders were frankly terrifying.

  Wovan had increased in number… A lot. Before evolving, she’d had 12 bodies. Now she had 44. Each of those bodies had also grown slightly larger. Not by much, but it was a noticeable difference. She’d also changed in appearance slightly; her formerly pitch black colour now had a bit of purple mixed in with it.

  Judging by the current condition of his bed, it seemed like she’d also put on a bit of weight. The bed was made from tier 2 materials. It wasn’t meant to break so easily. Wovan’s aura, however, had remained largely the same, which was a little surprising. It was only when Arthur tried to look closer that he realised things had changed in that department too, though not quite in the way he'd expected.

  There was a depth to it that hadn’t been there before, something that felt eerie more than it did terrifying. Sure, the baby Ender was still plenty scary, but there were some uncanny valley effects going on with her now. Wovan, much like himself, wasn’t entirely a creature of ether anymore; she had been reborn from corruption, had taken on the power of its chaos, yet remained wholly clear from the insanity that accompanied it and a part of his nature as an ether-based lifeform recognised that otherness.

  Once Arthur was satisfied with his visual inspection, he sent Wovan back to her meal. He turned his attention to what was going on in the city around him, or rather, what wasn’t happening. He was sure Wovan ditching his room was cause for breaching the rules Vira had set out for him, but no one was doing anything. In fact, Arthur couldn’t sense a single eye trained on his location. There was no observation on him whatsoever. It was a gross oversight, and so unlike what he’d come to expect from the city's leadership, that he immediately knew something was wrong.

  Judging by the position of the setting sun outside, it hadn't been long since he'd gone catatonic, less than half a day, in fact. What should he do? Ignore the one-day rule Vira had given him and go out to explore, or remain here in his room. He'd leave the decision be for now.

  Arthur pulled up Wovan's status page. He wanted to check out the nitty-gritty details of how she'd changed before he committed to anything.

  The remaining System logs detailing Wovan's evolution continued along the same strain, giving more and more dire warnings before it descended into the expected self-sacrifice spiel he'd seen before. Why the System expected people dabbling in illegal experimentation to off themselves for the good of the many was a serious design flaw.

  There was a lot to take in. At merely level 8, Wovan had surpassed almost everything Arthur had faced thus far. She'd reached a point now where he sincerely doubted he could defeat her, even with his access to True damage as a soul mage. With almost four times as many bodies to work with, her total healthpool was almost equivalent to a (lesser) Hydra, only Wovan was far, far more durable. Weighing 1,012kg meant his Soul Splinter had two metric tons of force behind her telekinesis courtesy of her tier 4+ title, enough that she'd be able to neutralise near enough any foe below level 100 without having to move a millimetre.

  Arthur took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. Wovan was... Absurd didn't even begin to describe it. For the first time, Arthur truly considered an outside perspective. Would I trust anyone with this kind of power? Hell, do I trust myself with this power. The answer was the easiest no he'd ever given. Arthur was almost glad at how absurd the conditions for Wovan to evolve had now become—ten monster cores taken from the Avatars of tier 4 corrupted worlds wasn't a task he saw himself fulfilling any time soon.

  Wovan's growth had also trickled to a standstill. In the time he'd spent going over her information, she'd killed 3 monsters over level 230 and gained absolutely nothing from them. At this point, Arthur doubted even a monster of Esmerald's calibre would do much for her besides serve as a tasty meal. The final, most important change Wovan had undergone, the whole reason he'd risked his very soul, was her new stat: nether. The name was a little on the nose, but Arthur would let it slide, considering it was supposed to be the direct opposite of ether.

  If Arthur was being entirely honest, he didn't quite know what nether truly was, or corruption, as it was more commonly known. Ether was an energy source found in anything and everything, the building block of reality. Nether was its opposite, so... Arthur wasn't sure. Corruption wasn't exactly destruction. He was pulled from his musings when a slight glint of light hit his eye.

  There was a minor disturbance in the air around him, the ambient nether native to Haadran, now far easier for him to sense, was displaced by 'something.' That was all the warning Arthur got.

  He barely managed to raise his arm in time, blocking an attack that was aimed at his jugular. There was a searing pain, more than physical, as Arthur's right hand, along with his very soul, was cut. His limb dropped to the floor, severed and useless.

  Arthur gritted his teeth in agony. He'd just lost 10% of his soul, 10% of his stats, his abilities, his very essence; everything that made him who he was. Wovan, sensing his distress, made to return to him, but Arthur stopped her. Something strange was afoot. An attack, delivered by a weapon that could damage the soul, and two foreign presences in his room.

  It seemed his hunters had found him, only something seemed off.

  The attack that should have taken his head off had slowed down at the last possible second. Hesitation, a malfunction in the weapon, or was it plain old luck? Arthur grimaced, recalling his soulbound pot, and using its newest ability to stem the flowing blood from his severed hand.

  Something told him this battle would be very enlightening.

  Links to the audiobooks.

  Etherious: Originator

  -

  Here

  Here

  Here

  ?Goodreads

  Here and read 8 chapters ahead.

  Patreon