A Bored Lich

Doevm walked out of the black market's front door wondering if the girl was worth it or not. While the mission was one of the only ones left, it didn't say how much he would earn from completing it. He entered into deep thought as he made his way to the exit of the Underground. Even though there was no moon or sun, he could tell it was getting later because the density of people lessened. He kept his distance from everyone as usual, keeping up with his drunken act.

'A creature huh?' He thought back to the words of the clerk and the thing that had managed to scratch Jameson. 'It can't be a coincidence. Judging by the dates on the missing posters, this thing emerged around a few weeks ago. The time matches, but I can't be sure if it is the same type of creature without more information. There is no physical description of the creature. In addition, why isn't there any marks of a struggle? From the evidence left behind by Jameson's battle, the creature isn't capable of stealth. The one he fought was wild, destructive.'

The houses in the Underground might have been decaying and disfigured, but they were still standing. 'If one of those things went on a rampage, these houses wouldn't be standing right now. Could there be multiple types of those things? Can they freely transform from human to creature and from creature to human?'

While he distracted himself, he managed to lose his way back. He wasn't on the main road, but a narrow pathway, filled with discarded trash and vermin. 'Everything has moved around too much in the few centuries I've been gone,' he thought. 'This direction should have taken me back. If only there was a giant structure at the exit like the skeletal arm. I could be back at my room by now.' He cursed at himself and made his way back to main road. Left, right, up some stairs, down some stairs, he kept making wrong turns into less populated places, darker places, quieter places.

Among his fake stumbling, he tripped on his own two feet. That time, however, it wasn't on purpose. The rotten beam which he held onto for balance stabbed into his fingers with its splintered bits.

'Not again,' Doevm thought as the world faded in and out of focus. 'I have to keep moving.' He pushed himself off the beam and pulled the bits of wood out of his hand. His stumbling wasn't an act anymore. He bumped into people and apologized. 'Should I just find a place to sleep?' One glance at the inns and the many unsavory characters loitering around them and his decision was made. He kept moving.

After an hour, he had explored most of the area, none of it familiar. With bruised and scratched knees, he kept running into dead ends. After each time, he would sigh and return to the main road.

'I don't recognize anything.' After he thought this for the hundredth time, he rounded a corner to find some of the tallest buildings in the Underground, burnt corpses which were long abandoned. 'I guess I'll have to spend the night in hiding and come out in the morning.' He looked the buildings up and down for a good spot. To his dismay, there were no furniture, nor any places without giant mounds of ash and charcoal. He kicked up dust and black remains as he walked. The tainted air filled his nose and lungs.

He tripped, rolling down a curved slope to the bottom of a large hole. He cursed and hoisted himself out of it. He rubbed his eyes. With the little amount of vision he gained by doing so, he found dozens of other craters in the broken stone. Each were perfectly circular, a semi-sphere in the ground. 'Nothing here.' He turned back to the main road and kept moving.

The loud ringing in his ears returned to annoy him. He picked at the inside of his ear. It fixed nothing. He could almost feel his temper breaking down. He could only hear his own footsteps. He stopped.

The Underground space with chaotic buildings and hundreds of thousands of nocturnal residents, was quiet. Doevm had seen homeless on his walk through the Underground. They lay on the sides of the path wrapped in bundles of rags much like what he was wearing. This place should be a dream come true for them. Just a little cleaning and one of these buildings could be a new home. He felt along the road. When he retracted his hand, it was covered in dust.

Tracing his steps was easy. They were the only disturbance of the road. Beside his were another pair of footsteps heading in the opposite direction. They were wider, with claw marks scratching into the dirt. As he followed them deeper into the ruins, they got smaller, until they were smaller than Doevm's fist. Then, they stopped in the middle of the street. There were plenty of other places to go. They simply started in the middle of the street, as if the person who made them was born at that spot.

Some quick searching and Doevm found shards of a clear material. He held it in his palm. As he moved it around, it seemed to have a faint glow. While it looked like glass, it was fogged up. He gathered the rest of the pieces, yet they didn't form any cohesive shape. He sighed and stood up. 'I don't have time for this right now. I need to find a place to hide in.' He threw the pieces into his spatial ring, the pieces jingling as they did.

He frowned and took the pieces out. He moved them in his palm. They rubbed against one another, producing a slight rubbing sound. He tossed them back into the spatial ring. There were no jingling sounds.

He tried to activate his mana sense, but he couldn't use his magic anymore. His heartbeat increased in rhythm as a bead of sweat rolled down his chin. He took a step forward, then another.

The softest jingling sound rang out in the buildings around him. He walked with silent steps, abandoning his drunken act. In between the rustle of his rags and scrape of his shoes against the stone, was another faint jingle. It was like many pieces of metal collided with each other. Doevm had left his chain mail in his spatial ring because it didn't fit over his current body. He made a turn into the ash-covered ruins.

He got low and leaned against the more stable walls. He looked around, finding nothing but ruins. He scooped up bits of ash. It stuck to his sweaty palms and onto his skin and clothes, blending him into the background. In the little light of the ruins' many broken light crystals, the shadows danced around him.

He crept from wall to wall, his world spinning. Doevm moved away from them and down towards the edge of the Underground.

Doevm crouched through a fallen window frame. He stepped over the shattered glass. He couldn't distinguish between the shadows and buildings anymore, not with his decaying vision. He walked around the craters, which grew larger the further back he got.

A moment was all it would take to equip his weapons. His hand hovered over his spatial ring, waiting for one of the blurred bundles of black to dart at him. Minutes passed with him moving away, until his back hit the wall, the very back of the Underground. The jingle rang again, louder this time.

From behind the cover of a building that swayed with the wind, he dug into a massive pile of ash. He could hear them now, their heavy breathing and metallic armor. His legs were covered. They didn't bother to be quiet now, some even whispering to each other about his soon to be gruesome fate. His chest was covered. One pair of footsteps, the closest to him, stopped. His arms were covered. The other pairs walked towards the first, stopping just on the other side of the building. The last piece of ash covered his head as they made it around the corner.

"Nothing," one whispered. "Let's keep moving. I just heard him over here." The footsteps sounded again, yet they didn't decrease in volume. "Yeah, I think he went back towards the black market." The same voice called out. From under the pile of ash, Doevm felt one of them step towards him. A soft jingle and a sharp inhale came from above.

Doevm rolled out of the pile of ash, pulled his spear out, and decapitated the man. Nine more stood behind the first, their weapons ready. All of them pulled out their blood-red life essence. Not one flinched away when their comrade was killed. Doevm couldn't even make out their faces, nor could he remain holding onto his spear. He drew his dagger.

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