God of Trash

They descended through the trees, hurtling down toward the earth below. For a hair-raising moment, Sorden slalomed through branches, dropping so fast Rhys’ stomach lurched only to soar back up again, and then they were down at ground level. Rhys hopped off, glad to be back on solid ground. The flight had been fun for the most part, but those last few seconds had really whipped him around. He’d never been much for roller coasters, and roller coasters without any of the guarantees of modern engineering or extensive testing were absolutely not his thing. He glanced at Sorden and her ladle, then took a deep breath. More of that awaited him, if he rode back with her. At least on the way back, they wouldn’t have to dodge branches as they went for the landing.

She gestured for him to follow and walked on without looking back. Her ladle jumped into her hand, and she stuck it through her belt. “Just up ahead.”

Rhys jogged after her. He quickly caught up, then had to hold himself back from rushing ahead. Already, he could smell it. The caustic stench. The sting of impurities on the air.

Sorden stepped forward. She pushed back a thick layer of undergrowth to reveal a hole in the earth. “Careful.”

Rhys drew up to the edge. He caught his breath. His eyes widened, even if that made them water a little bit.

Dark gunk coated the sides of the pit. The black, crusty, seething grime slumped in the depths, not quite liquid, not quite solid. A powerful aura emanated from it, more powerful than any of the trash piles he’d gathered so far. This trash hadn’t decayed for its time in the pit. If anything, it had only grown more powerful.

He hovered his hand over the pit, testing the toxicity of the gunk within by calling a little bit of it to himself.

Almost instantly, his mana circulation slowed, then ran backwards. His hand turned black, and his blood began to ache. The toxicity climbed up his arm, toward his chest. His veins turned black where it coursed through them. It seared his veins, like acid injected directly into his bloodstream. Instinctively, he knew that if it reached his heart, he would die.

“Rhys!” Sorden shouted, shocked. She fumbled in her storage ring, searching for a potion. “This is why I said you shouldn’t get close!”

Quickly, Rhys retreated, no longer calling the gunk to himself. He pushed his mana out of himself, taking the contaminants and the filthy blood with it. His hand spurted with blood, first black, then dark, then safe, healthy red. His mana streamed out of him as well, taking most of the impurities with it. Some of them got past, but those were at an ordinary level. A level Rhys could handle.

Even so, the density of the impurities in his body after one second of trying to absorb the trash pit, after ejecting them, was nearly as high as when he absorbed an entire pile of ordinary trash. Rhys stared at his hand in awe. One second, and he’d gained that many impurities? And he hadn’t even lit it on fire! How dense was this gunk? How powerful?

Doubt crept into his mind. Maybe he wasn’t ready for the peak’s trash yet, if he couldn’t absorb this gunk.