Chapter 39 – Part 2: Predator and Prey

  The limb Ray had torn free was nearly as long as he was tall. Gnarled, bone-white, and slick with black ichor, it pulsed faintly—like it still remembered being part of the beast. It wasn’t straight like a staff or spear, but thick, fibrous, crooked in odd angles. His fingers barely wrapped around its circumference. And yet, here he was, holding it like a weapon.

  Just then, a breath rolled over the back of his neck—hot, ragged, reeking of rot.

  Instinct screamed.

  He turned.

  A fallen outer was dragging itself toward him, its torso half-flattened, one arm crushed and dragging limply behind. But the other claw remained intact. And it was mere moments away from slicing through the back of Ray’s skull.

  Ray dove to the side.

  The claw slashed past where his head had been a heartbeat ago. He rolled, came up crouching, and without pause swung the crude bone weapon in a brutal arc.

  It connected with a wet crack.

  The beast’s head twisted unnaturally from the force. It staggered, momentarily stunned.

  Ray didn’t let it recover.

  He lunged forward and drove the jagged end of the limb into the thing’s face—straight through its eye. A high-pitched shriek erupted from it, shrill and desperate, as black blood exploded outward. It thrashed violently, trying to tear the weapon free, but Ray twisted it deeper. The thrashing slowed... then stopped.

  The beast slumped. Dead.

  Ray stumbled back, chest heaving, arms trembling.

  And then—

  Your... s-soul... gri—... gri... ggh...

  The voice again.

  That same fractured whisper in his mind. Stuttering. Blocked. Like something ancient trying to claw its way through thick glass. He’d heard it before, in the desert—Outer’s voice, announcing his kills, reacting to his growth. But here in the labyrinth, it had been silent. Until now.

  Ray’s brows furrowed. Why now? Why only this one?

  But the thought shattered as a scream pierced the air.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Alkan.

  Ray turned just in time to see his companion stagger, a jagged gash carved deep across his chest. Blood poured from the wound—too much, too fast.

  “ALKAN!”

  The fallen devil was already on him, closing in for the kill.

  Ray ran.

  He didn’t think. His legs moved, driven by panic and something deeper—rage.

  The devil’s claw descended, but Ray threw himself between it and Alkan. The bone limb blocked the strike, splintering slightly under the force. Ray gritted his teeth and shoved it back.

  Alkan coughed, blood trailing from his mouth, but he didn’t fall. He nodded at Ray, eyes still sharp.

  They fought together.

  Again.

  And again.

  And again.

  Blood soaked the ground. Their bodies screamed in protest. Every strike from the devil was like a boulder falling from the sky. The thing was huge, twice their size, but it wasn’t just muscle—it was smart. It feinted, adapted, waited for mistakes.

  They bled. And still they fought.

  The only solace was that the devil’s dominance kept the rest of the fallen at bay. None dared enter its arena.

  But Ray knew they were running out of time.

  Then—it happened.

  Alkan stumbled.

  Just a half-step. Just enough.

  The devil’s claw slammed into him, lifting him off the ground and smashing him into the wall. Stone cracked. Blood splattered. Alkan slid down, barely conscious.

  Ray tried to move. His arms were numb. His legs barely worked.

  The devil turned from him. Ignored him.

  It had picked its target.

  The more dangerous one.

  It loomed over Alkan, its jaw unhinging like a serpent’s, ready to crush his skull in a single bite.

  And Alkan—

  —moved.

  He didn’t scream.

  He didn’t beg.

  He acted.

  His sword thrust upward into the devil’s mouth, catching the beast mid-lunge. The blade sank in halfway before catching on bone.

  The devil reeled back, screeching.

  And Alkan... followed.

  Blood pouring from his side, he threw himself at the beast. Slash. Thrust. Spin. A frenzy of desperate strikes. But none hit its joints. None reached its vital points.

  Ray blinked.

  He’s not trying to kill it.

  The realization hit him like lightning.

  He’s herding it.

  Alkan’s strikes were forcing the devil into position—twisting it, pushing it, distracting it.

  And then—for just a second—Alkan looked at him.

  A glance. Nothing more.

  But it said everything.

  Now.

  Ray surged forward.

  He circled wide, moving in the blind spot Alkan had opened.

  The devil reared back to counter Alkan’s next blow—and its back leg slid forward. Just slightly. Just enough.

  There.

  Ray launched himself from the ground, lifting the bone weapon like a spear.

  The devil sensed it too late.

  It twisted—

  —but Alkan slammed into its leg, locking it in place.

  And Ray struck.

  The jagged limb drove into the devil’s eye socket with a sickening crunch. But he didn’t stop.

  He screamed—rage, exhaustion, fury—and pushed harder.

  The bone cracked.

  The eye burst.

  Still he shoved.

  Until he felt something give inside the skull—a soft, wet collapse.

  The devil convulsed violently.

  Its claws flailed. Its mouth gnashed empty air. It let out a scream so raw it peeled the skin from Ray’s ears.

  Then silence.

  Its limbs collapsed. Its head drooped.

  It fell.

  Dead.

  Ray stumbled back, breath ragged, heart pounding like a drum.

  His legs gave out.

  Alkan collapsed beside him, coughing blood, smiling faintly through cracked lips.

  Neither of them spoke.

  There was nothing left to say.

  They had won.

  Barely.

  Ray felt something enter deep within him almost as if it just formed their.

  *Your sou..soul gro....grows stronger*

  *Yo..you have recie...*

  Then he heard it. Rays eyes widened. This time it was much clearer, much more stronger. The ancient voice of the Outer bond had announced his kill and seems like ray had also gotten something else.