Donny stood still, the wind swirling around him. His golden eyes lingered on the gore at his feet. He had already extracted the souls from the bodies before burying them. The pouch at his side pulsed faintly.
He continued walking for hours until he arrived at the cave.
Its entrance loomed like a broken maw, and the overwhelming stench of blood poured out in waves.
"This place reeks of blood," Donny muttered, tightening his grip on the dagger.
He stepped inside, moving slowly and deliberately. The dark pressed in around him, broken only by faint wisps of drifting light. He passed a small cubicle-like alcove where a patch of berry bushes grew, bathed in a lone shaft of light from the ceiling.
"Still haven't eaten since I got here…"
He approached, picked a few berries, and popped them into his mouth. An explosion of flavor hit his tongue, sweet, metallic, and addictively strange. He grabbed more, stuffing them down until the craving finally dulled.
It's unlike anything I've ever had… amazing... I hope they weren't poisonous. They probably weren't...
Wiping his mouth, he moved deeper. The light increased strangely the farther he went, minerals in the cave walls catching what little illumination there was and reflecting it in glints and veins of color.
Then he heard it, a low, wet sound. Sloppy. Rhythmic. Like something chewing meat and bone.
Donny crouched, moving with quiet steps toward the sound.
It led him to a narrow passage. He followed it to a wide, open chamber, an arena, or what remained of one. The place was crumbling, half-swallowed by time, with broken columns and stone rubble strewn across the floor. Three more passages opened on the far side.
And in the center of the ruined arena, it stood.
The Grey Dusk Wolf.
The wolf was chewing on something, bones and flesh still fresh, blood soaking its fur.
Its head snapped toward Donny. The sound of crunching bone echoed through the cave as it twisted its massive body to face him fully.
I can't fight that thing. Why can't I move? I need to run. If I don't
Before he could finish the thought, the wolf lunged. Its claw swept through the air, inches from his face. Donny dove left, narrowly dodging the strike.
It swayed, then lunged again, jaws wide.
Donny jumped back, heart pounding, then sprinted across the open space. The wolf was faster; it cut him off, stepping in front of him before barreling forward and slamming into his chest.
He flew back like a ragdoll, crashing into the wall with a sickening crack.
"Agh!" Donny choked out, coughing violently.
I should've run when I had the chance… No. It would've caught me. I was dead the moment I agreed to this.
The beast approached slowly, each footfall thunderous.
No. I can't die like this. Die? What does that even mean here? What if it's worse than this SHIT, I can't die.
With a roar, Donny shot up and dashed forward. The wolf didn't expect it.
He drove the dagger deep into its eye.
The wolf howled, shaking its massive head. It flung Donny aside he hit the ground hard but rolled with the momentum, springing back to his feet.
"Got you," he breathed. "I got a solid hit."
Furious, the beast lunged again.
Donny sidestepped narrowly, dragging the dagger along its side as he passed. A clean cut.
But the wolf spun with terrifying speed.
Its claw slammed into Donny's chest, tearing through his armor. He flew back again, crashing into a cracked column. A ragged scream burst from his lungs.
His vision blurred. Blood soaked through his shirt.
What was I thinking, charging it head-on? I need a strategy...
Donny slowly stood, leaning against the column.
Then, with a deep breath, he hurled his dagger.
It flew straight and true, burying itself in the wolf's other eye.
The wolf howled in agony. The cave shook from the sound.
Blinded and enraged, it charged.
Donny bolted to the side, and the beast slammed head-first into the column, dazing itself. Wasting no time, Donny sprinted to the half-eaten corpse and rolled in its blood.
That should mask my scent. Now it'll have to rely on sound…
He picked up nearby stones and hurled them across the chamber. The wolf lashed out blindly, chasing the noise.
Then Donny screamed:
"COME GET ME!"
The beast turned, locking on the sound. It roared and charged.
Donny pushed with everything he had left, shoving the cracked column just enough. It toppled as the beast neared, crashing down on the wolf's skull with a thunderous crack.
The creature fell, unmoving.
Silence.
Donny stood frozen. Chest heaving.
"I... I did it. I killed the damn wolf!"
He staggered over, ripped the dagger from its eye, and plunged it into the beast's back, cutting deep.
From the gash floated a murky, dark red soul larger than any he'd seen.
It pulsed faintly, almost resisting him.
Donny reached out, grabbed it with both hands, and shoved it into his leather pouch.
Donny grimaced at the mangled corpse of the beast, then turned away.
He peeled off his torn shirt, wrapping it tightly around his bleeding chest as a makeshift bandage. Every breath burned. He sat down, resting against the fallen pillar for a while, the silence of the cave pressing down like a weight.
Eventually, he stood and began the slow journey back to the castle.
"I'll be back," he muttered, glancing over his shoulder at the cave's dark interior. "There's more to this place…"
The hike took hours, each step dragging. Pain rippled through his limbs, but he kept moving.
By the time he reached the castle, his body was nearly giving out. He passed through the main gate, then into the cracked structure's towering hallways. The shadows greeted him like old friends.
Inside the central chamber, Catonin Qwell sat at his metal desk, head down, flipping through a massive book.
He looked up.
Eyes widened, genuinely shocked. "You… you're alive?"
Donny's lips cracked into a faint smirk.
"I killed the wolf," he rasped hoarsely.
Then everything went black.
Donny walked through a long, dark hallway.
At the end was a door. He opened it.
Outside was a road, twisted, wrecked. A car lay flipped, surrounded by others, smoke curling into the air. Screams echoed faintly.
A little boy stood by the wreckage.
He was pressing his back against he door of the flipped vehicle, keeping it closed despite the banging and cries from the other side.
A woman's voice cried out.
"Please, honey, stop! "
"I I can't breathe !"
"Donny, stop this. STOP THIS!"
Then the boy turned.
His eyes met Donny's brilliant gold eyes.
Donny's heart seized.
He jolted awake.
Lying on a small bed. A rough blanket was draped over him.
His body ached. He was still in the castle.
Alive.
But shaken.
Catonin sat in the corner of the room, eyeing Donny with a flicker of genuine concern.
"So you survived. Honestly, I thought there was no chance. Guess you really proved me wrong, huh?"
Donny looked at him, his gaze sharp.
"I guess I did. And as we agreed, I get access to the castle, your knowledge, and everything in it, right?" A smirk tugged at his lips.
Catonin stood and extended a hand.
"Welcome. Make yourself at home. But before you start poking around, you should rest for a few days. You should've died in that cave. The only reason you didn't is because you either stumbled across blue crystal water… or ate cavern berries."
He squinted. "Judging by your breath, I'm betting berries. They boost red blood cell production just enough to keep you alive. But don't let that fool you, you're still healing. Rest. I'll make you something to eat."
With that, he turned and left the room.
Donny leaned back with a faint grin. "I guess Lady Luck's still got my back."
A few minutes later, Catonin returned with a plate and a bowl. He set them on the table beside Donny's bed.
The soup gave off a strange, meaty smell. Donny peeked inside and saw chunks of something floating in the broth. The bread looked rough, but edible.
He tore a piece, dipped it into the soup, and took a bite.
Not much flavor, but... It's warm. It could be worse.
"It tastes pretty good, Catonin. Thanks."
Catonin gave a slight smile. "That's monster flesh. Boiled it with some swamp water I found. The bread's made from flour I scavenged here... a years ago."
"WHAT?"
Donny coughed, eyes bulging, gagging like he'd just swallowed acid.
Catonin's tone dropped, stern and unimpressed. "It's a hot meal. If you don't want it, starve. See if I care."
Several days passed. Donny, now fully healed, sifted through ancient books, tossing them aside one after another, frustration building with each incomprehensible page.
"What the hell is all this? They're just filled with weird symbols, I can't read any of it!" he growled, slamming one shut.
"Well, yeah," Catonin said lazily from the corner. "It's all in Denaca. That's demon language. These books, hell, even this castle, were made by demons."
Donny froze. "Wait, what? But you can read them. So that means... You learned Denaca? Just how long have you been stuck down here?"
Catonin strolled over and sat at the metal table, shrugging.
"About a year... Damn. Already? That means I'm twenty now." He scratched his chin, as if realizing his birthday had passed without notice.
Donny blinked. "You learned an entire language and read thousands of books in a year? How?!"
Catonin grinned. "Wasn't much else to do. Besides, it's not that hard when your life depends on it."
He nodded at the thick tome in Donny's hand. "That one's a history book. Want me to just tell you what it says?"
"Yeah," Donny said, slumping into a chair. "Any info helps."
Catonin leaned forward, voice steady.
"Alright. First thing you need to know: Purgatory has sixteen layers. They're split into two halves, the upper eight and the lower eight. The division isn't just geographic, it's political."
"Political?"
"Yeah. Two different factions. The upper half is controlled by the Gray Angels' powerful, ancient bastards. The bottom half is demon territory."
Donny raised a brow. "So, angels and demons... literal?"
"Literal. They fought a massive war down here. The angels won, more or less. Took control of the upper half, it's got most of the resources, cleaner land, and stable portals. We're in the lower half. Eighth layer. Demon side. This place used to be a battlefield, which is why it's so barren and gray."
Donny looked around the ruined interior of the castle, the crumbling stone walls, and the ashen sky outside the broken windows. It all made a strange kind of sense now.
"All this happened about a hundred years ago," Catonin said, pacing slowly. "Even so, this place isn't worth rotting in. I'm heading for Layer Seven. That's why I needed the wolf's soul to craft a weapon strong enough to handle the monsters between here and there."
"A weapon made from a soul?" Donny asked.
"Not exactly." Catonin stopped and looked back. "You can imbue a soul into a weapon. It doesn't just make it stronger sometimes, it gives it traits from the soul's owner. Sadly, the grey dusk wolf didn't have any particular traits, but still was a powerful monster, so the blade should be too.
He extended his hand. "Now then, where's the soul?"
Donny reached into the leather pouch and pulled out the murky, reddish-grey soul. With a slight toss, he handed it to Catonin.
Catonin caught it, then walked over to a nearby shelf and selected a cutlass. Its guard and handle were a deep black, while the blade itself shimmered faintly gold. With careful precision, he placed it on the metal table, then opened a drawer beneath it and pulled out a sheet of parchment covered in strange, etched symbols.
He laid the soul on top of the cutlass, then slammed the parchment down over both.
The symbols flared blinding light erupted from the table. The ground shook. Sparks danced in the air as the table cracked and splintered beneath the force of the reaction.
Then silence.
As the light faded, the two stood in awe. The gold blade now pulsed softly, its edge rimmed with a misty gray hue, like fog clinging to steel.
"It worked!" Catonin shouted, eyes wide with disbelief and excitement.
He carefully picked up the cutlass and slid it into a leather sheath, his hands almost reverent.
"Donny," he said, voice low but burning with resolve, "with this… I'm making it to Layer Seven."
He turned to him.
"You coming?"