Chapter 173

A Soul That Shook the Nether (II)

Defiance still remained inside the Shopkeeper’s yellow eyes as he stared back at Cain with the ferocity of a beast. Though wounds and bruises now decorated his body, he hardly seemed hurt by it all. Cain wasn’t surprised; weakened or not, the Shopkeeper’s level was likely in the hundreds. There was no way anyone in his party had means of inflicting anything more than just decorative, surface-level wounds.

Cain crouched down in front of the Keeper and lit up a cigarette, staring hollowly at those piss-yellow eyes. He truly was an ugly creature, Cain mused; it was no wonder he’d spent every waking day covering up his head with the hood.

“You look angry,” Cain said. “Wanna talk about it?”

“...”

“Eh, you don’t have to,” Cain shrugged, sitting down. “It’s not hard to figure it out. Someone of your stature... getting lashed and beaten by a couple of kid Conquerors like you’re some homeless, side-street trash. The wound on your pride... must be the size of fuckin’ Texas, man.”

“... you will pay for this, Thief,” the Keeper spoke lowly and hoarsely. “Dearly.”

“... I already have,” Cain said. “She was like a daughter to me,” he added. “And that boy... was finally beginning to free himself. And, ‘cause of you, they’re dead. Not to mention everyone else you killed off for your vanity.”

“I didn’t draw the blade, Thief.”

“Oh? Are you playing technicalities with me?” Cain leaned in closer and grasped the Keeper’s head, yanking it up. “Well, technically, it won’t be me that kills you. It’s gonna be a cat. Does that mean your brethren will just go, ‘eh, he didn’t draw the blade, fuck it’? ‘cause I sure as hell don’t think so. Somewhere inside, I know you’re torn; you been doin’ this for cycles, likely, sending off kids to die without knowing any better. They thought they were being sent on an adventure, one filled with dangers, yes, but also riches and rewards. But... you chose wrong, motherfucker. That’s all there is to it. Your death will be pointless, just as theirs was.”

“Blame me all you want, both those children and you... will die because of you. In this place, you have no friends, Thief. Now, you only have more enemies.”

“As I said,” Cain grinned, draining Mana into his finger and pressing it against the Keeper’s forehead. “I can always leave this place. Go out, spend time with my family, live out my little eternity with them. You? You... you won’t even get an afterlife.”

“--no!! You would commit such a sin?!! Even the Divine won’t forgive you!!” a change of emotion finally occurred in the Keeper’s eyes as they widened in horror.

“Newsflash--the Divine don’t give a shit, moron. Nobody, nobody, gives a shit about either you or me.”

“--that is hardly true, Thief,” a voice different to that of the Keeper’s suddenly spoke up as Cain frowned, looking up. There, a moment later, above the Keeper’s head, a projection of sort occurred, washed in thin gold. Within it sat a cross-legged man, his features eerily similar to the Keeper’s, though he kept on a smile as he faced Cain. “We all have someone that cares for us.”

“... and you are?” Cain groaned.

“A concerned party.”

“Concerned about what?”

“About you making a mistake.”

“Ah, thank you very much for your input,” Cain said. “Now kindly fuck off back to where you came from.”

“You do not wish to offend the hand that offers to save you, Thief.”

“No, no, of course not,” Cain groaned, starting to feel annoyed. “So, kindly fuck off back to where you came from. I’m thankful for your wisdom, but I’ve got a soul to torture and a nap to take. And I’m running short on time.”

“Do not create a blood feud--”

“One more word,” Cain’s countenance abruptly changed, his expression darkening like a sudden storm, eyes shifting from nonchalant to a pair of abyss-deep holes of desolation. The sudden change startled both the Keeper as well as the man in projection, as though an ordinary kitten had suddenly became a primordial beast in front of their eyes. “And I will drag your ugly fucking ass over here and choke you until your fucking head explodes. I’m not in the mood for your offers and whatever other horseshit you got in that fucked up mind of yours. Your son, or whoever the fuck he is to you, is gonna die today. And not just die. I’ll wipe him permanently from existence. And, if any of your fuckers dare come at me or anyone I care for, I will wipe all of you just the same. I’m not above being a genocidal maniac -- trust me. Just try and piss me off. Just try.”

Cain charged Creation, Mind, and Body into a Skill, creating it on the spot, and destroying the projection himself. The Keeper began to shake under his gaze, like a wounded beast beneath the preying eyes. Perhaps for the first time since he became the captor, he truly believed Cain was serious and wasn’t just posturing. Those eyes... those eyes were of a man mad and crazed, the ilk that didn’t care for the consequences as much as it cared for paying back the debts.

“Now that the annoyance is out of the way,” Cain spoke out again, pressing his index finger back against the Keeper’s forehead. “And your last breath of hope dashed, we ought to resume our little playdate, eh?”

What followed were the worst two hours of the Keeper’s life; he’d felt pain before, he’d even been at the death’s door before... but never quite like this, where every facet of who he is was being broken down individually, beaten, shamed, and pissed on. The pain that seared through his veins like the scalding flames, the soul-deep agony that flared up with every movement he did, the absolute relentlessness of the madman that ignored every one of his reactions -- tears, beginning, helplessness... he just kept going. There was no pity, no humanity, no forgiveness in the pair of shimmery-green eyes. Only hollowness akin to the place the Keeper knew he would be going to.

“Don’t,” up above, Emma suddenly held Senna back from walking downstairs. The group had been listening to the cacophony of agony for the past two hours, and almost everyone was ready to walk out. Considering what they did to the Keeper and the man barely blinked... they couldn’t even imagine what Cain is doing to him at the moment. “He doesn’t want anyone to see him like that.”

“How do you know that?” Senna asked.

“He told me.”

“Oh.”

“Just remember--this is not who he is,” Emma added, holding Senna’s hand gently. “He’s just... angry and sad. And, well, he didn’t have the healthiest of childhoods and never quite learned to deal with those feelings properly. It used to be binge-drinking himself until he forgot a year of his life. And now it’s... torturing people. God, I need to get that man into therapy.”

“No, I get it,” Senna sighed, sitting down. “When he comes up, I’m sure he’s gonna make some shitty ‘man, that guy can’t sing for shit’ joke or something and brush it all off.”

“Well, you’re wrong,” a playful voice drew everyone’s attention forward as Cain walked up, a big smile on his face. “I was gonna say ‘man, even little babies handle torture better than that guy’. So, hey, in your face!”

“...” Senna looked at him for a moment before suddenly bolting over and tossing her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Cain, startled, glanced at Emma with an inquisitive look but all he got in return was an equally confused one.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” Cain said, wrapping his hands back around her. “But boy, I do feel like I won lottery or some shit.”

“Thank you,” Senna mumbled as she snuggled herself out of his arms. “Dad...” adding the last part as a muffle while her cheeks reddened, she stormed out and hid inside the bedroom, leaving Cain stumped with tear-eyed.

“She... she...”

“Yeah, yeah, we heard,” Emma chuckled. “I know we never said no about getting more than one kid, C’, but man, you’ve been adopting them left and right. Soon enough, we’ll have a whole baseball team it seems.”

“And the best part? You didn’t have to give birth to any of ‘em.”

“Amen to that.” Emma added with a chuckle as others began retreating into the bedroom as well, ready to take another bout of rest. “You got it out of your system?” she asked him.

“... no,” Cain replied honestly. “I never will, though. Neither will you.”

“...”

“But... we’ll live. Besides, that hug... I don’t think she realizes how much I needed it.”

“I think she does,” Emma said with a chuckle. “And that’s why she did it. She may be an emotionally stunted and brash teen, C’, but, for some fucked up reason, I think she gets you. Probably ‘cause the two of you are so goddamn alike it’s like you are actually her father.”

“Yes; we’re both beautiful, smart, strong, and have one hell of a sense of humor,” Cain chuckled. “And, as a bonus, we both got you taking care of us.”

“... let’s go take a nap. It’s been a long few days.”

“Yup. Let’s.”

In the meantime, a Soul visited the Underworld -- it was for the briefest of moments, like a flash in the pan, but it was enough to cause a world-spanning quake. One of the Great Al’tari, Dimensional Merchants, had been felled -- and not just felled... but erased completely, as though never having existed. And yet, somehow, that news was only the second largest that day that traversed the Underworld -- as one of the Demigod Champions came down for a visit at the exact same day.