Nightmare System - Volume 1 Chapter 24 Lostfound

Leon was ready and shaking in excitement for the fight. He was aware that the vampires he was facing right now weren’t the ordinary type, but he was sure he could handle two. Especially after being so audacious in this base while Hell was gone, he was incensed.

“You will learn to be more reserved in another’s base,” Leon said as the two blades hovered around him. He was willing to sacrifice a large portion of his HP to deal a mighty blow with his Sundering Attack and Rapid Move. His speed wasn’t comparable to Hell at any level, but he could still get one hit in if they managed to get close to himself. And since his dagger is now bloodied, its attack was marginally higher as well.

“I hope you’ll be able to back those words up while facing us, Leon,” said Furcas as he activated a skill which seemed to be a buff of sorts, making him more powerful. It was fundamentally similar to Virgil’s skills.

Nero-Furcas duo and Leon stood at opposite sides when suddenly Nero took a step back, hiding behind Furcas before Leon could react, which signalled the start of the fight as Leon launched his weapons at high speed toward Furcas. Furcas coincidentally one of the most agile members of the Sons of Shadow with an unparalleled mastery over swords. Although the force exerted by each of the hits from either the dagger or from the curved sword was a pressure hard to overcome. Furcas seemed to be deflecting the weapons at the last time, rendering Leon’s barrage of attacks virtually useless for the time being.

Nero was waiting for an opportunity to defeat Leon with one of his moves. He was sure as long as he got closer to him, his ability would allow him to be the victor quite easily. Furcas was still quite alright, and the fight wasn’t intense enough for either party, Nero guessed Leon was holding back his ability to hold a person in the case himself were to attack. Nero then saw Leon pull the curved sword back, only focusing on attacking Furcas with the dagger, and just as he was doing that, Nero plunged from the shadows with his sword, attacking from behind, his blade was sure to penetrate the Telekinesis user’s back and damage him to the extent that he would have to surrender.

“How long has it been? A month?! A year?! I can’t believe I’ll fall here!” Hell amused himself. He was genuinely bored out of his mind and had killed a myriad of animals, to the extent that he had gained two levels in the process. Even while sleeping on trees, he could get attacked, this jungle was not safe at all, and he was unsure of what to do. He washed himself in a large but serene lake, where there was a crocodile-Godzilla hybrid creature that had swallowed him whole, costing him a hand; while he was sleeping on trees, he fell and hit his head hard enough that his brain functions had faltered for a few seconds until he healed up and he even had to fight so many T-Rexes as well as many other dinosaurs like him. Hell also saw two dragons flying by in the sky, he just stayed hidden.

At least he found out that the healing aspect of his enchanting could restore limbs, that was a fantastic find. From then on, Hell decided to keep one healing brand on his chest at all times. After he regained enough mana for it, he created two copies to keep watch for himself as soon as he found a cave he could sleep in. Unfortunately, there were giant insects in this cave as well, but Hell cleared the place soon after with the help of his copies.

“Two days! How did I get lost for two days? I don’t think I even left the base for that long!” He knew that the majority of these bases were built underground, so it was pretty much impossible to see from a distance, you would have to know exactly where it was. Hell berated himself for having the sense of direction of a rock.

“Isn’t there anyone out there?!” Pseudo Hell was yelling outside. After securing himself in a cave, Hell cooked himself some meat he got from a triceratops and ate some fruits he had another copy of his gather outside. One copy was yelling for help while the other was serving him. Although the copies shared Hell’s personality, they would also definitely follow all his orders to the letter, without the will to deny him. Then again, they mumbled under their breaths as they followed the orders as well.

As long as he didn’t use his mana for much else, he could sustain the two copies for around half-a-day without completely running out of mana if he wished s. Of course, he only had them present for approximately six hours. Four as he slept and they kept watch, fending off any would-be enemies while two more spent yelling and making Hell breakfast. Hell would move until he was tired enough or until he found another dwelling himself. At least, that’s what he was planning on doing, until Pseudo Hell who was yelling outside was shot by a bolt and fell down from the tree he was on.

“Hey! Why did you stop?” Hell yelled from inside the cave. “Come on, heal up your throat if it’s hurt and keep yelling, don’t be such a pansy!”

Pseudo Hell arrived inside the cave with some fresh blood on his clothes.

“Dude, those fake clothes on fake you are the best I could find in the whole base!” Hell made fun of him. “Did one of those weird bird creatures get you?”

“Oi, stop messing around for a moment!” Pseudo Hell-1, who came from outside said, breathing heavy still, even though there was no visible wound on himself. Unfortunately, the brands Hell had on himself wasn’t transferred to his copies as he created them. Pseudo-1 proceeded to show him a bloodied bolt with a black tip and raised his voice: “Someone is attacking us, we need to-”

“‘We need to what?” Hell asked, Pseudo-1 was no longer speaking as he fell on the cold floor of the cave, no longer moving.

“Was he attacked again?!” Hell suddenly jumped up, but there seemed to be no attackers inside the cave as Pseudo-1 slowly began melting away. He was dead. Hell and Pseudo Hell-2 were both shocked, only hearing the sounds of the jungle from the outside in a moment of speechlessness.

“How is it possible that he died?”

“Not sure, it seemed that he clearly healed himself before arriving in here,” Pseudo-2 answered.

Hell gazed at the odd bolt in his hands and then to Pseudo-2, finally deciding on trying it out. “Hey, come here,” Hell said.

“Well, aim it at my heart then, don’t mess around.” Pseudo-2 had understood Hell’s intention as he stepped forward, allowing Hell to puncture his heart with the arrow.

“Go outside and fall there,” Hell commanded, and the copy complied. He went outside as he kept casting Knight-Demon’s Vitality, healing himself continuously to see if that’d have any effect or if he would still die. Hell watched from inside the cave, hiding behind some rock formations.

“It was poison, then?” Hell was sure, watching Pseudo-2 staggering just as Pseudo-1. The process seemed to be slower, he surmised it was because there was less poison right now, he guessed with his Poison Resistance, it was unable to take effect immediately. Since Pseudo-2 didn’t fall dead yet, a barrage of bolts rained on him soon after, following the command: “Shoot!”

Pseudo-2 was also dead moments later, unable to dodge the bolts as the remaining poison from the bolt had disoriented him. It was fine, his job was to die so that Hell could observe the enemies.

Two men came to check on the already melting corpse as they began conversing between one another.

“Filthy vampire, you should all die.”

“Hey, what is this?” the man with the smaller stature asked when he realised the corpse was simply melting away.

“What?” The tall man asked and upon closer inspection exclaimed, “He is melting!”

“Disgusting, what else did you lace the bolts with?”

“The only poison I used was the “Heartbreaker” as you did, I didn’t think anyone else would have anything else either,” the tall man truthfully answered. Hell saw there were around 5 more of those hunters with crossbows in their hands and maces on their belts, finally coming out of hiding.

“I knew I would find someone eventually. Very scary, though. I could be the one who died,” Hell talked to himself as he created a copy, although the “Healing” aspect of his brand was a complete restoration rather than conventional healing spells and skills, but he wasn’t sure if it would be of any use as long as that poison reached his heart.

“You know what to do,” Hell said, and Pseudo nodded his head, it was a good plan. The spell would basically copy his memories and even thoughts up to the moment of the copy’s creation, so there was no need to explain him once more. Pseudo left the cave with slow steps, arousing the ears of these hunters. Upon taking a closer look, Pseudo exclaimed:

“You are elves!”

Seeing the enemy they thought they just killed before themselves, the Captain of their group suddenly gave an order, they wouldn’t fight head-on against Lord-level vampires.

“Provide cover for Lance and Rob!” the Captain shouted as they took positions as fast as they could with the two guys inspecting the corpse backing up toward their teammates. Pseudo used his Quickening, however, and before they could actually execute their plan, got a hold of Rob, the shorter man before they could react adequately.

“Let him go!” the Captain yelled.

“Let’s have a civilised discussion,” Pseudo suggested with a rather mild tone, gripping Rob’s neck tight enough that he could not fight nor die. If these people died, Hell would go back to square one. But, nonetheless, encountering them here would likely mean there was some sort of settlement nearby.

“With your kind? I doubt you savages would even know what that word means!” one of the hunters piped up in fervour.

“Look, I’ll break his neck if I even feel one of those bolts shooting at me. Are we clear on that?”

“Don’t attack!” the Captain commanded. “What are your demands?”

“My demands? Simple, I just want to go back to my base, show me the way.”

“As I thought, one of Dmiria’s dogs running amok once more,” the Captain cursed. “Alright, what else do you want?”

“I’d also appreciate it if you could not shoot me any more, that’s about it!” Pseudo Hell yelled in a casual manner. Hell had realised his tone and demeanour was far too carefree and straightforward compared to the inhabitants of this world soon after he started conversing with Virgil, the good thing is that he was cool enough to be just as casual with Hell, so they didn’t have any problems.

“That’s it?” the Captain uttered to himself and signalled his team to be ready. It was quite obviously a trap. He had never seen one decent vampire from Dmiria’s base in the last century he fought them. They could only marginally dwindle their numbers over the years as the Vampire Lord Dmiria would raise the number every decade if he thought he was falling short. They were a skilled group of marksmen, albeit only on par with the weaker vampires in raw strength; however, still falling short as a fatal wound for them was at best an inconvenience for the vampires.

“We accept! Would you let go of Rob now?”

“Sure thing,” Pseudo said and did as he said he would, letting go of his captive. As soon as he did so, however; six bolts were shot at him. Hell had thought he would probably have to kill some of them; thus Pseudo had the same mindset and was vigilant. Even though the activation of the abilities was instant, that didn’t mean it would be easy to dodge six crossbow bolts shot at him with such speed. So he used his good old Short Distance Warping to get out of the way.

The Captain himself had seemingly prepared for this result and took his own crossbow with a glistening bolt’s tip, infusing it with mana and shooting it. This arrow seemed to be unique and coupled with the spell cast onto it by the Captain, it appeared to have turned into a homing missile, chasing Pseudo without a stop. Along with the poison coating used on it, this was a deadly weapon. Pseudo used Quickening and Warping until he ran out of mana, but the problem was that the bolt went through physical objects like an apparition as well. It was impossible to get rid of it. Pseudo, thus, decided to take out Rob he let go of seconds ago as revenge if he wasn’t going to make it.

The bolt pierced his arm and the next moment, Pseudo punched onto Rob’s spine with all his momentum and strength, instantly snapping it in half.

“No!” the Captain yelled, and Pseudo fell down right before he could also reach him. The poison was potent, and it took only a second for it to reach the heart, instantly travelling through the veins. The poison itself was obviously created from magic as well.

The Captain, the Menaroa native named Silrus, felt a pain in his heart. It was incredibly unfortunate that the only one with a family in their team was the one who died. Silrus still remembered his 6-year old kid’s teary eyes as his dad left for a hunt. He would have to be the one to break the news to a widow. Menaroa Tribe Congregation provided for widows and orphans, but in the desperate times of war, it was apparent the support would be minimal as well.

“At least his death was quick.” Silrus approached Rob and closed his eyes, not realising he was only shocked into a coma and was about to die, not dead yet, when a burst of uproarious laughter was heard from inside the cave, which alerted them once more. Hell sent a new copy, this time armed with the Imp Needle.

“You really did manage to kill me there,” said Pseudo with a huge grin, bordering on madness and bloodl.u.s.t. He hated unappreciative people the most, but his orders were clear, he would leave the Captain and one more alive at the very least.

“Impossible!” Silrus yelled, and before he could give new orders or take any action, Pseudo rushed with the Imp Needle, breaking his crossbow with three consecutive punches using his empty hand. The crossbow was durable enough that the third punch barely broke it, even though he used all his strength.

Hunters tried to shoot the new foe that appeared out of thin air in a stupefied fashion, they were, however; unable to aim to the rapidly moving monster that had come to reap them into the next life.

“I don’t want to die!” one of the hunters yelled as he began running away, leaving his crossbow behind. Hearing this, Pseudo changed his target and killed him first, penetrating his heart with the Imp Needle and throwing the body aside.

“Do entertain me, then!” Pseudo laughed as his heart ached as well. Hell was watching the events unfold when he realised that watching one of his copies kill was more comfortable than killing people himself. He had to be resolute enough to kill to survive in his dreams, which was eventually reflected upon his psyche in real life. He was always conflicted when he killed. Part of him felt for them, in immense pain while his other half enjoyed it, enjoyed the sadness that killing created within himself.

Pseudo disarmed two and killed the others in quick succession soon and ran out of mana, sparing the only woman in the group. Silrus tried to be a shield to his team even, but he was quickly ignored as he watched the slaughter.

*A creature has been killed*

*+30 mana acquired*

*A creature has been killed*

*+50 mana acquired*

*A creature has been killed*

*+10 mana acquired*

*A creature has been killed*

*+120 mana acquired*

“Fantastic,” Hell muttered to himself, watching Pseudo and the remaining two’s interaction.

“I understand.” Silrus looked at Pseudo with tears falling down his face. “I angered you as I said you were but a dog of his, while you seem to be superior to him.”

“That, and you killed me as well, what did you expect I’d do after that?” Pseudo said.

Silrus was unresponsive. They hadn’t killed him; obviously, the monster was standing before him with the blood of his comrades, but not his own.

“So, are you showing me the way now, or?” Pseudo said with a callous tone once more, his calm manner seemed ridiculous at first, but his mood could turn murderous immediately. Shifting between tones of such disparity showed the deceit and slyness of the opponent.

“I’ll show you the way,” Silrus said with indifference, “Please just spare her.”

“No problem!” Pseudo said with a smile that could be called sweet, had he not murdered five people just now.

“Oh, also, I killed Dmiria as well, I am the Lord of that base now.”

Silrus was taken aback even with his current unstable and defeated psyche. He began laughing as tears continued falling down his face, asking in a heart-breaking tone: “What are you planning on doing with Menaroa?”

“Is she called Menaroa?” Pseudo ignorantly asked, Hell hadn’t learnt about the nations and races of this continent, focusing on other Vampire Lords and taking them over. “Nothing, she can live.”

“Menaroa is a tribe-country I came from upon the disturbance in the jungle, we have a tribe-” Silrus stopped himself and didn’t utter the location nor the existence of his tribe. Who knew? This man could just decide to slaughter them all. “We had been warring against Dmiria for more than a century now,” he said and finished his brief explanation.

“I don’t care, I’m fighting against the Djinn Queen,” Pseudo said and dismissed the conversation, asking further: “Tell me how to get back now.”

“Just follow directly north from here. A day of walking will get you there.”

“Cool, how do I know which way is north?”

“With a compass,” Silrus replied. His soul was crushed along with the death of his party, he didn’t have much reservation toward this man. If what he said was the truth, this meant that their war was over and he even caused his team to be killed by someone closer to an ally than a foe. Realising he was still somewhat confused, he gave Pseudo his own. He could find his way back from here easily.

“Thanks. See? That wasn’t so hard,” Pseudo said and went back into the cave rapidly and two identical figures left there. Hell was briefed by Pseudo on what he learned as they walked toward Silrus and the shocked female hunter.

“Yo!” Hell said with a smile. Aside from the patches of blood and a needle-like weapon on one of them, they were exactly identical. “So, Menaroa,” he said, “where is this place?” Hell was slightly curious about this new place, especially after Pseudo said they were exactly like the elves in fiction they stumbled upon back on earth. Hell truly wanted to converse with these ‘Menaroans’.

“Hey, I just want to create friendly ties between our let’s say armies. I’ll even sweeten the deal with this,” Hell said and commanded Pseudo:

“Rip your heart out.” Pseudo followed the command with a sullen look, but did as he asked.

“No! There is no need-” Silrus was interjecting when he saw Pseudo grew his claws as vampires did and sunk it into his chest in speed. Taken aback by this man’s obedience, he could only watch the veins on his forehead becoming more pronounced and his face reddening with the pain he suffered during those moments until he reached his heart. He gripped the heart and ripped it out of his chest as he fell down the next moment.

“Even Steven,” Hell said, not breaking his sweet smile, not knowing it was horrifying to the hunters.

“I am Silrus,” he said, slightly confused.

“Call me Hell,” Hell said and added: “Silrus, I have a feeling this is the start of a great friendship!”