The Soulweaver - Stealing Souls to Cultivate [LitRPG/ Dungeon Crawler]

Liesel leaned against the door, staring at the sleeping Rakamel child.

Arval was not a warrior. The carelessness with which she slept was not replicable by someone who had felt the violence personally. She was not having a pleasant time. If Liesel focused, she could hear the child's call for her father or mother.

Behind the garden with stone benches, a wooden home was created by the realm. Unlike anything the Rakamel should know about. It was a human home.

Who raised her to be a human?

That was a question she didn't feel she could ask the child bluntly. If the circumstance were different, it may have been acceptable. Liesel had taken Garhalik's life, and though she may not feel guilty about it, she was not absolved of the question it bore.

The sharp ting of the System's call disturbed her train of thought.

[Soul Assimilation Successful!

Dominion +1

Unbound Dominion 2-->3]

Liesel pushed the door handle and exited the room. She should've seen a replication of night. Instead, she found herself standing in a corridor. Surrounded on all sides, unlike the usual high walls and ceiling, the corridor was a damp box. The cracked walls stretched into darkness at the end.

What now?

Exhaling, she opened the Prestige Store. Clicked on the search menu and selected the Soul Weaving Skill. It was marked as a lost skill too.

[All the requirements are fulfilled!

Purchase Successful!

You can assimilate the knowledge and abilities of the Soul Weaving Skill. Proceed?]

Liesel nodded.

[Estimated Time: 21 Hours 15 Minutes]

That was a long time. But Liesel was relieved. Here, her withering was slower, and though it seemed dangerously close to the edge, she had made it.

Liesel began her journey in the long, damp corridor. Silent, except for her breathing and the pronounced, raspy shriek of her shoe as it dragged across the dusty floor.

Nothing happened. Nothing at all. Minutes stretched into dozens. She could feel the spiraling thought at the corner of her vision, stalking and waiting for the moment she lowered her guard.

To distract herself, she wondered about the skills. She had twenty-seven prestige points still, and depending on the condition of the next skill, she might be able to buy something other than the Weaver Archetype. Yet, her thoughts refused to linger on that. It drifted to the part she'd rather not even give a moment of energy.

She was losing interest in the Archetype at large. And even the magic in general sense. Her Shade Strike had evolved into something better, and yet she hadn't felt anything but a slight tinge of worry and apprehension.

So short a time had passed, and so little had happened if she detached her mind from her body, and yet it felt so long and arduous. So, so painful. The constant application of Control on her soul was like pulling a nerve from under the skin and twisting it into a knot.

She never paused long enough to internalize that numbing pain. Here, somehow, her mind couldn't detach from it.

She was dying because of her soul, but she was also dying because of how exhausted everything felt. She could rationalize that she'd live, because of how the human mind worked, but the toll on her body subconsciously made it impossible for her to feel any excitement towards the progress. For it to mean something for her.

A question lingered in the back of her mind that she refused to ask herself. To do so, she might fail after coming so far.

Walking in silence was dangerous. It forced her to see the things she'd rather keep at a distance and consider them a few months later, when those were just a fact of the past, not even necessary to retain in her mind.

Liesel stopped walking. She looked back. The long, dark corridor stretched into the mouth of the abyss, no different than what awaited her ahead.

She didn't imagine herself finding Arval's room if she turned back. What awaited at the end of the corridor? She knew. She could smell a faint trace of it already.

I would rather find the room.

At least, she could be assured that the Primordial Core didn't accept her, but it couldn't expel her or kill her for a reason she had yet to figure out.

What is the point of this?

Liesel wondered about that. Beyond being forced to see things that she had been trained to ignore to have an easier life as a White Crusader, what was the point?

So what if I am in pain and now have to be conscious about it?

She didn't get an answer.

Do I want an answer?

The second thought crept into her mind like cold air creeping through the gap between the door and the floor.

Yes. I do. Liesel replied to herself. She knew the answer deep in her bones, even if she hadn't stumbled upon the thought that would lead her there yet. But hiding was not her nature.

That was also why she kept walking, aware that she had the option to sit down on the floor and meditate on her soul. Practice Layering, Materializing, and weaving the Crest if she really needed a distraction.

She walked for hours, lost in her own thoughts; not once did the corridors change.

"What do you want from me?" Liesel finally asked. She was growing tired. She had been tired without pause for weeks now. Even rest that she had felt less like a relief and more like stitching your own wounds with a hot needle.

She kept walking.

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And walking...

Walking...

Her mind slowly lost the energy to think, which was a relief in its own. It was an odd feeling, not wanting to think. Why did it become this? She had held much better against the literal Mind Eater's magic than a long, undisturbed corridor. She had an answer that she refused to narrow down towards. Because if she did, then she'd have to make a decision that she didn't know the right answer to.

After six hours of walking, the corridor shifted. It was damper, darker. Roots grew out from the ceiling. Green moss covered the wall.

With each step she took, she smelled the chemical thicker and thicker.

She finally saw a door.

Her heart froze.

Back here again.

The door led to her Mother's bedroom or her ward.

It is a mental exercise. Liesel told herself.

Unlike the Mindeater's magic, she had agency here. It was an illusion. At the same time, it was asking her if she wanted to walk through the corridor, knowing who she'd see on the other side. Her mother, ashen, in unimaginable agony, against whom Liesel's own misery would pale in comparison. The woman's memory would be sullied one more time, twisted and distorted to make her mother crueler and viler than she could ever be.

And yet, it was just a mental exercise. It could only be as bad as Liesel wanted it to be, and she had been taught not to let it be anything but a faint memory.

Just by the act of her considerations, she was giving them unnecessary weight, and by stopping, she'd make it as real as her own memory—a thing she was scared of.

Despite the whirlwind of contradictory considerations inside her mind, which shouldn't be there to begin with, her steps never hesitated. She reached the door. Inhaled the chemical stench. As her finger settled on the cold metal knob, she could hear her mother on the other side.

The doorknob was loose. Ashening in the beginning stage of spreading made you very strong, physically, like a last burst of light from a dying spark.

She twisted it without pause, and when she entered the room, it was empty.

The stench of chemicals was gone.

No.

It was not empty.

There was snoring. Arval was sleeping on her mother's bed.

Liesel blinked. Her first instinct was to yank the girl off, and then shove her out of the room. Like this was a real bedroom and the child might contract Ashening by sleeping on the bed.

It's a mental exercise, she reminded herself. This place didn't exist. Her mother's house was demolished a few months ago, along with several others. A new sky-high tower would be built upon it.

Once she blinked, Arval was not there. But her own self. An amalgamation of timelines. That wreck of a girl may have been from a day after the funeral, who wanted to be alone in the house, and the only place she could find isolation while her family spread through the house like a parasite was her mother's room, which no one dared to enter.

Is this a joke? Liesel wondered. The girl on the bed didn't seem to be aware of her presence.

Liesel leaned against the door and watched the girl weep for almost ten minutes. Then a noise dragged the girl out of the room, and Liesel was alone again.

Liesel settled on the bed. Her toes were aching from the walk. She needed a rest.

How much longer would this go on? She imagined that when Arval woke up, it would all go away.

She closed her eyes and began channeling the Materiality through her Soul Veins. She gathered the energy at the tips of her fingers, and with her other hand, she pulled it out into reality.

It was small. She would weave a rune with it. She began with Binding Rune I. It took her over a minute to weave. It was not as precise as she'd have liked, so she destroyed it. Then, she began again. Slower and methodical, the second one turned out to be better but not quite right. With infinite Materiality, and her Soul Veins healing from the strains here, Liesel didn't have to settle for anything less than absolute perfection.

On the ninth try, she had a perfectly constructed rune, and it had only taken her a minute to weave. It was progress. Now, should she let it stay in her Soul Form, which barely held the Rune Cage with Ashdust within it? It was not even a question.

She destroyed it. And began anew. A little faster and less perfect, not even worth another consideration.

She repeated the process, finding the slight burn in her Soul Vein from overuse pleasant. After a few more tries, she again wove a perfectly fine Binding Rune I.

She shifted her goal to be a little faster. And that proved to be very difficult. It took her hours to increase her speed. At one point, even her control slipped from her Soul Form, leading to a slight increase in Withering. Still not in the complete red zone, though.

How fast did she want to weave a rune? About ten every minute. Then, she might have a shot at weaving the Crest before another trouble swept her life in a whirlwind.

Maybe Arval is already gone, and I am trapped here alone... forever.

If that was the case, she could spend her remaining life weaving runes.

A hand shook Liesel, breaking her out of her meditation.

The golden-ringed eyes peered at her, filled with concern. "Are you okay?"

Liesel nodded her head. She looked around her. She was sitting by the door. Liesel got back to her feet and opened the door again.

It was morning outside. The birds chirped somewhere in the distance. The river was flowing. The air was fresh. But she could smell the Chemical, either inside her mind or the realm knew just the right amount to keep her on the edge.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Arval asked as she followed Liesel outside.

"Something like that," Liesel replied. She hadn't fallen asleep.

[Estimated Time: 13 Hours 12 Minutes]

I guess even my walk was just an illusion... what about my thoughts?

"It's only been an hour or two in the outside world, right?" Liesel asked.

"Less than two, I think," Arval said, nodding.

Hopefully, we will be out before the end of the day.

She didn't think the night had been as unpleasant as it could've been, but she certainly didn't want to experience it again.

********

Auram pointed at the wall from where Liesel had vanished.

Drahk nodded. "She should be safe. Do not be so tense. She is merely closer to the Heart of our world than us."

"Too close," Auram hissed. "Even I can't get to her."

She had asked the Custodian, and he told her not to meddle with a force that has not called upon her. If she had a role to play, she'd find a way in. Otherwise, she must wait here. They couldn't see Liesel through the System's observational window. It was blank, and whatever was happening beyond it, only the Custodian's eyes observed.

"Do you know anything about it?" Auram asked.

Drahk shook his head. "I am sad to say, but I cannot tell you. Just know that we have had similar incidents, but it has never been dangerous. Your friend should be safe."

Drahk looked at the entrance. "Elder and the rest are almost here. You should leave."

Auram teleported away, not to the library, but to the ceiling of the cave. Creating a curtain out of the air, she wrapped it around herself. She had to hear what they were going to talk about. And she was not going to ask the Custodian for help with something as insignificant as this.

"Where's it?" Elder Ahura asked. She tapped her cane with each step.

"It should be here," Drahk said.

"Did the human tell you?" Saaranam asked. A hint of snide in his voice.

"Yes," Drahk said in a level tone.

"Lies," the elder uttered. "Lies. Lies again!"

Her cane tapped on the ground.

Auram was tempted to part the curtain and get a better look, but the Custodian warned her about the woman. This one may be able to feel her presence. Her methods were atypical.

"What lies?" Drahk asked.

The cane bashed on the wall. "Nothing's here, child. Nothing. No trace."

"I don't understand what you mean," Drahk replied. "Do you?"

"Elder," Saaranam said. Again, his voice was smooth. Yet, it sent a pulse of rage through Auram's body. "What is the lie?"

"The humans lie again. There's no trace here. Arval always leaves a vein to call upon the Gurvanam and ask them to lead us deeper. This is not the place. Saar, have the Strider look for weights around here. Weight in the air, or the constructs. My child must have left us a path to her."

"That cannot be true," Drahk said unsurely.

Auram wanted to teleport there and accuse the woman of being a liar. They were not good people, and most importantly, they were willing to use a spirit's tragedy as a tool. They were just humans without the stench of blood lingering on them.

She remained there and waited.

"It is! You accuse us of lying," the woman's cane cut through the air. A low, dull thud echoed in the cave.

Auram's fist clenched.

"You have been poisoned by the human's voice," Elder Ahura commanded. "Their leader chased our daughter into the Core after killing her father, and yet!" Another loud thud. "You dare to call them guests and take their side. Shame! You bring shame to us all!"

Drahk was a friend. Auram wished she could stop the abuse, but she knew better than anyone how powerless she was to do anything but be a witness. She was cursed to forever be a witness to her friend's pain.

"Please, Elder," Saaranam said, "You will hurt your hand."

"What pain can my hand feel when my son is killed, and my daughter is being hunted, and the boy I raise accuses me of being a liar?" She struck him again. "Find the Vein! Without it, Arval is forever trapped in the Core."