I flew with absolute caution, keeping my wings tight and rhythmic as I glided through the freezing cloud cover. I couldn't afford to be reckless; with a twelve-gold bounty on my head and the entire Capital Knights Bureau on high alert, my life was truly on the line.
My destination loomed ahead: the Caria Mines, the dark womb where the horrific incident took place six years ago.
To understand the sheer scale of the nightmare I was flying into, one had to understand the geography of this brutal terrain. Mount Caria was the third largest mountain system in the entire continent of Andromeda. Unlike the singular, towering peak or several peaks of Rebelbub Mountain, Mount Caria was a massive, sprawling labyrinth comprising countless interconnected mountains. The rugged peaks ranged anywhere from a staggering 2 to 10 kilometers above sea level, cutting into the atmosphere like jagged stone teeth. It was a frozen, oxygen-deprived wasteland at the summits, completely untamable.
Tucked into the lower ridges of this colossal, labyrinthine mountain range…acting as the primary gateway into the bleeding veins of the earth…was the nearest mineshaft system, the infamous Caria Mines.
As I dropped altitude, spiraling down through the thick midnight mist, the gaping, black maw of the main mineshaft entrance finally came into view. The reinforced wooden scaffolding surrounding the entrance was rotting, and the heavy iron tracks meant for ore carts were twisted and rusted. Even from the sky, the air venting from the tunnels smelled rancid… a suffocating mixture of old copper, stagnant water, and a sharp, chemically acrid stench that made my throat burn beneath my canvas mask.
I touched down silently onto the rocky ledge just outside the cave mouth, my heavy boots absorbing the impact. I instantly pulled my wings back, compressing them tightly against my spine, and refastened the heavy buttons of my traveler's cloak to hide my monstrous silhouette once more.
Reaching behind my back, my right hand gripped the cold, etched steel handle of the Death Chant Shotgun. I unhitched the weapon, holding it ready across my chest. I checked the new mana ring on my index finger, it was humming softly, fully charged and ready to feed my volatile blood magic.
I looked into the absolute, pitch-black darkness of the shaft. Somewhere down there, past the rusted tracks and collapsed tunnels, the bio slimes were pulsing with their unnatural, blue-green bioluminescence, consuming everything in their path. I stepped over the threshold and into the cavern, leaving the midnight air behind. I was entering the graveyard of my mother and my little sister, Evelyn, and I wasn't leaving until the abyss was completely cleansed in fire.
"Let's go Eirene." Plasma muttered
The heavy iron gates blocking the main entrance of the Caria Mines were locked down tight, wrapped in massive, rusted security chains that the Bureau must have slapped on after the six knights were slaughtered. I didn't have time to look for a key. I extended my right hand, focusing my internal mana until a razor-sharp blade of hardened, crystallized crimson energy erupted from my palm… my blood sword. With one swift, brutal downward arc, the blood sword sheared through the thick iron links like hot butter. The chains clattered heavily against the stone, and I pushed the squealing iron gates open.
Just past the threshold, a few old brass mining lanterns were still hanging from the wooden support beams, their oil low but still flickering weakly in the damp draft. I grabbed one, tearing its metal chain free, and tightly strapped the lantern to my right thigh. It cast a dim, swinging golden light across the rocky floor as I stepped deeper into the suffocating quiet of the cavern.
As I marched downward into the twisting tunnels, a sickening, familiar pressure began to weigh on my chest. My instincts as an bounty hunter flared. Deep in the subterranean dark, I could faintly sense a heavy, ancient, and deeply malevolent aura… the distinct signature of the massive, central monster that had been locked up down here for six years. The entity that had cornered my mother.
Suddenly, a wet, squelching sound echoed from a dark alcove ahead.
I skidded to a halt, raising my right arm. Out of the shadows hopped my very first encounter: a small, translucent Bio Slime, roughly the size of a boulder. The moment it noticed my presence, its core pulsed, and its vibrant, unnatural blue-green bioluminescence erupted, illuminating the jagged stone walls of the cave in a sickening, ghostly light.
Before it could launch itself at me, my muscle memory took over. I lunged forward and brought my blood sword slashing down, cutting the gelatinous creature cleanly in half.
But my satisfaction was instantly cut short. The moment my crimson blade passed through its membrane, a horrific hissing sound filled the air. The highly corrosive fluids of the slime ate through my blood magic in a fraction of a second, completely dissolving and corroding my sword into a puddle of useless mist. Worse, the slime didn't die. It didn't even care. Instead of simply regrowing, the two severed halves independently sealed themselves, instantly duplicating into two fully formed, aggressive bio slimes.
A cold flash of realization hit me. This is exactly how the six Capital Knights caused the infestation to spread so exponentially. They had marched down here with traditional steel swords, hacking and slashing at an enemy that literally thrived and multiplied on physical trauma. Standard blade attacks were utterly useless, they were just feeding the plague.
I leapt backward to avoid a spray of their acidic secretions, my mind racing. Knowing swords were entirely off the table, I dropped the stance and instantly reached behind my back, unsheathing the massive, etched steel frame of the Death Chant Shotgun I had ripped from Oksana's dead fingers.
As I gripped the cold stock, the last words Oksana had wheezed before her execution echoed clearly in my mind. She had warned me that the Death Chant artifacts drew their lethal payload directly from the wielder's innate human skills. My older brother, Elias, possessed dark magic, which allowed his Death Chant Revolver to chamber and fire devastating dark bullets. But my innate skill was Blood Manipulation.
I closed my lone jade-green eye, focusing my intent down into the weapon. The moment my raw, volatile blood magic flooded the mechanisms, the dull silver linings and ancient runes etched across the shotgun's barrel suddenly flared into a brilliant, glowing crimson. The weapon thirstily drank from my veins, instantly forming heavy, explosive shells made of highly pressurized, concentrated blood.
I opened my eye, leveled the glowing crimson barrel directly at the two hopping slimes, and pulled the trigger.
BOOM!
The deafening roar of the Death Chant Shotgun shattered the subterranean silence, the recoil sending a shockwave through my right arm. A massive wall of kinetic blood-fire erupted from the barrel, completely engulfing the two bio slimes. The high-pressure blast didn't just cut them… it completely vaporized their cores on a molecular level, blowing them into millions of microscopic, harmless droplets. They didn't have a single millisecond to regenerate or duplicate. They were just gone, leaving nothing but scorched earth on the cave floor.
I lowered the smoking barrel, a dark, grim smile forming under my mask. My blood sword was entirely useless down here, but this shotgun was the ultimate equalizer. This was the main weapon. Armed with the power of my own blood and Nautilus's silver in my pocket, I cocked the weapon, letting a fresh crimson shell slide into the chamber. I continued my descent into the blue-green twilight, ready to blast my way to the very bottom of the abyss.
"Damn, this shotgun will come in handy." Plasma said through my thoughts.
Plasma is just noise pollution, but the echoes of my first gunshot had barely died down before the absolute silence of the mineshaft was replaced by a horrifying, collective sound.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
From the pitch-black tunnels stretching deeper ahead, a chorus of wet, heavy, and frantic squelching vibrations began to rattle the stone walls. The deafening blast of the Death Chant Shotgun had acted like a dinner bell. Hundreds of those corrosive, A-rank entities were moving up from the lower levels, sensing the intrusion of fresh human flesh. Within seconds, the dark, cavernous network before me began to light up. One by one, a sea of vibrant, unnatural blue-green lights flickered into existence, painting the jagged rock formations in a ghostly, bio-luminescent glow. The infestation was massive, and they were all rushing toward me.
A sickening wave of pure, unadulterated rage completely overrode the fear in my chest.
Six years ago, these exact glowing, acidic monsters had swarmed my mother. They had forced her to carve open her own womb in the dark, and they had devoured my newborn sister, Evelyn, before she could even see the light of day. For six years, they had rotted down here in the dark, multiplying and spreading like a cancer beneath Caria City.
I stood my ground in the center of the shaking mineshaft. The dim lantern strapped to my right thigh swung rhythmically, casting long, erratic shadows across the cobblestones. I raised my right hand, firmly gripping the cold, etched handle of my weapon.
Clack-clack.
I cocked the heavy shotgun with a brutal, fluid motion. A fresh, glowing crimson shell slid perfectly into the chamber, the ancient silver runes along the barrel flaring with an intense, blood-red light as they drank heavily from my mana reservoir ring. The weapon hummed against my palm, perfectly synchronized with the volatile blood manipulation surging through my veins.
"Come on,"
I whispered into the darkness, the raw, jagged edges of my hidden Glasgow smile tightening beneath my canvas mask. My lone jade-green eye locked onto the approaching wave of blue-green light, burning with a cold, merciless, S-rank finality.
I didn't care about the gold. I didn't care about the Bureau. Tonight, the Crimson Phantom was an executioner. I leveled the smoking barrel straight at the incoming horde, braced my stance, and prepared to drown the entire abyss in a storm of explosive, vengeful fire.