Feeling sluggish, I fumbled through the backpack, took out an esc and gave it to Tinnie. The XP from the Crystal was just enough for her to reach level 9. Ignoring the flash of light that followed a level-up, I realized that the backlash from Soulcatcher had less of an impact this time. As there was no severe physical damage, there was no exhausting regeneration either. Another note for the future. How many of these notes have I already taken in this endless solo-dungeon?

We were all sick and tired of it, but damn it, there was no time to rest just yet.

I needed to feed Fury and return to the hall to pick up the loot from the chest and the corpses. I stifled a sigh. Sheer force of will helped me get up, pull out the Bone Slayer and thrust it into the Demon’s carcass. A ringing “ting!” followed. The handle remained in my hands; the worn out blade broke at the base. I looked at it in confusion, and then I threw it away. To hell with it all.

“Fury, it’s all yours. Screw the skin, tear it up if you want. Tinnie, follow me, we’ll talk about your behavior later...”

Ignoring the embarrassed squeak behind my back, I walked to the hall, but had to stop at the entrance. But I was too late. The entrance to the hall was being overgrown right before our eyes; the chest had already disappeared in the growth of black and red shoots. The walls and floor stirred, enveloping the Imps’ corpses. I had only five escs left. No emotions. No curses. I was too tired. I just turned around and went back to the...

A new hall had appeared.

I had no clue how long it took us to break through. At some point, I realized that I was no longer aware of the passing of time and was just trying to survive.

And there it was, the final battleground.

I observed it without leaving the tunnel, paying extra attention to the thing that stood where a chest usually would have been. I think I expected to see something resembling a real heart, only gigantic, red and pumping blood. But instead of that was a giant egg, about seven feet tall, with a translucent shell and the same translucent content. Inside the egg was a huge “yolk” that looked like a miniature scarlet sun, wrapped in a dense network of small blood vessels that shone and vibrated. This “yolk” would regularly flare up, dispersing the darkness for a second or two, and then vanish almost completely.

It was my ticket out of this damned place.

Heart of the Den

Level 20

HP 666

It was extremely important not to hurry and fully use every given moment of respite. I needed to think, weigh my options and take another look at my matured pets’ abilities. This den wasn’t intended to be soloed, but to be done with the help of a party. The fact that I was still alive and so close to its Heart was nothing more than coincidence and dumb luck. It was better not to think about it, as not to undermine my faith in the already slim chances.

Tossing my bag and Flame to the side, I sat on the ground and lay on my back. To a passerby that would’ve looked pretty brazen, but I wasn’t afraid of a premature attack. The hall was empty and the guards would appear only after I had entered their territory. I was so tired that any flat surface on which I could stretch and relax was as good as a comfy bed. I wanted to close my eyes and float away into the realm of sleep for a year or so...

Alas, I couldn’t afford sleep yet. Where was I? Oh, right...

Tinnie’s XP was steadily reaching level 10. If I used her accumulated skill points right now to get Spiritual Link’s rank 3 that would surely boost the energy exchange between the three of us... However, something told me that there was no need to hurry. At this stage, any gain would increase the cost of it, and we couldn’t afford that right now.

Fury had already caught up with Tinnie and had learned Metamorph a long time ago. I picked it without much hesitation, as she would gain 150% defense and damage during the transformation at rank 3, but...

Fool me twice…

As the skill cost 75% of all available reserves, I couldn’t experiment recklessly, especially considering our general state of chronic exhaustion. So we managed without it. At level 15, Head-Eyes became more dangerous and strove to entangle our legs with roots shooting from the dirt floor within their AoE zone. Luckily, they were still pretty slow. Demons attacked three more times, but didn’t even get a chance to cause us any real harm; our team had worked out its elimination tactic to perfection. I felt like a doll, an automaton fit for murder and nothing else. The burrow behind us kept growing, not allowing us to linger in one place for more than two or three minutes. Fury had to tear pieces of meat of the fallen enemies and eat on the move. It was easy for such a beast to tear off a chunk of thigh with one move of its powerful jaws. Still, as she didn’t have time to eat properly and fill her Hunger bar completely, she now looked almost like a skeleton. Her skin was full of holes. She had taken all of the damage but didn’t manage to heal properly. I, too, had to forget about fixing or replacing my banged-up upgrades.

Funnily enough, I myself totally missed the moment when I reached level 14. The flash that follows a level up went unnoticed in one of the many grueling fights. I deliberately hadn’t invested the accumulated ninety stat points. The reason was simple and had nothing to do with saving. The moment when it could have still been done painlessly had long passed. Additional body restructuring would require new energy expenses, and I was already at my limit. I’ll figure it out once we survive this mess. The five skill points could also wait. I was thinking slowly and didn’t want to screw up something. Also, my theory about ranks was confirmed. Two-handed Weapons had reached rank 3 and, as with Soulcatcher, the system offered a similar reward.

Speaking of weapons...

I stirred and took my sword and backpack. Flame had completely stopped shining. I needed to replace the Crystal. Thanks to the Demons, I had some in stock. I inserted a new Crystal. Fumbling through backpack, I noticed that I had managed to drop the pipe. Grinning, I picked up and examining it as if I was seeing it for the first time.

Silent Girlfriend

Artifact, magic pipe

Unique item

Built-in Ability: Divine Patronage (inactive)

The item is soulbound to [Wisecracker].

I never tried it out.

Another missed opportunity, missed initially deliberately, and now... It was too late for experiments with the patron. I had no room for error. If it required any sort of ritual or anything that would make me vulnerable instead of helping me, then I was fucked. I should have sorted things out with Alan the Dark earlier. Why didn’t I? What was I so afraid of that I kept avoiding having any contact with this deity?

Back in the sandbox, I managed to find out that before reaching level 50 I had no right to change my patron and that I would just have to learn to get along with the one that I had. Alan the Dark chose Pops to be his neophyte for his predisposition to calculated cruelty. He made me a neophyte for the sake of revenge in order to compensate for the loss of his previous adherent. At least that was what Ears had told me. But I hadn’t changed. Ears said that interacting with a patron depended on whether the player had a backbone or not. So what prevented me from doing it in time? Stubbornness? Fear? Or something else?

People say that a person’s soul is a dark place, but sometimes it’s impossible to understand your very own soul. If I were a smart man, I would have, as Alan’s follower, used his help. But I was a stubborn and prideful man, and I didn’t want the help of someone that that asshole Pops used to serve. Circumstances had changed a long time ago and it was time for me to get my head out of the sand. Any sort of advantage would help me in this location. Maybe I was acting like this out of vain pride thinking that I can do this on my own, without some patron’s help? But this reality hadn’t been invented by me, and it was not for me to change its laws. All one could do was to try to use those laws to their advantage, and not ignore any opportunity for survival that presented itself. Any opportunity. Even a dark one.

My enemy also reasoned this way — the end justifies the means. This way of thinking led him to his doom, both literally and figuratively. On the other hand, what the hell were even dark and light? Those are just labels. What becomes of yourself and your soul depends solely on you and your actions, not on the color of your patron’s aura!

And then my eyes fell on the hand in which the pipe lay.

The silvery web, the Sign of Alan the Dark...

...was gone.

Neophyte of the void. Ridiculous. I finally understood it. He was either so fed up with my stubbornness that he left me to my own devices, or... I froze in amazement. Hell! It just occurred to me that Alan the Dark couldn’t have followed me to Lunar Rainbow. After all, according to the legend of Phoenix Shriek, the local and foreign deities fought so hard, that they knocked each other out of this world. Were there taboos about divine patrons then? Once in a while the most ridiculous and unusual of thoughts would swim up to the surface from the deepest depths of one’s mind. Sometimes, too, the most obvious of things would become hard to see. Did Alan the Dark ever manage to gain access to this world? It is possible that he didn’t. So much doubt and mental agony, and for what?

The pipe remained useless.

However…

I filled it with tobacco from the pouch and lit it with the lighter. Doing this wasn’t easy for someone without a smoking habit; the process required skill and experience, but it was still doable. The fragrant smoke almost immediately presented its beneficial effects. Muscle tension began to subside, my consciousness cleared, and my soul felt at ease and became filled with calming emptiness. Back in the sandbox, Ears, may he live a long player’s life with endless saves, provided me with excellent tobacco. Maybe it was for the better that the pipe was now more fit for daily use?

The silence began to feel suspicious. Two minutes had passed without anyone trying to kick my ass. I looked around and shuddered. Just a step behind me, the tunnel was blocked by a dense wall of weakly stirring shoots that have crept up unnoticed and halted. Had the smoke scared them off?

I then heard a languid, sensual sigh which made me abruptly turn my head. Fury cautiously raised her head, searching for new danger with a fierce glare. The fragrant smell of smoke not only stopped the shoots, but it also made the guard appear earlier than I had planned.

From behind the Heart she came out.

The woman of my dreams.