Beast Evolution Forge - Chapter 134

Chapter 134: Cain 3
Vell stood still, his eyes fixed on the possessed lizardman before him. The creature’s unnatural movements and the way its head twisted made it clear – this was Cain speaking directly through his servant. The air grew heavy with power, making it hard to breathe.

“Who am I?” Vell’s lips curled into a small smile. “Just someone passing through.”

The lizardman’s body twitched violently, its scales rippling as if something was crawling beneath them. “LIES!” The voice that came from its throat was layered, as if multiple people were speaking at once. “No one just ‘passes through’ here. This domain is sealed, protected. You shouldn’t be here, not alone, not now.”

[His mana signature… it’s fracturing. Multiple souls trapped in one vessel?]

Vell kept his stance relaxed, but his mana swirled around him like an invisible storm. “Sealed, you say? Interesting.” He took a step forward, watching how the possessed lizardman reacted. “Tell me, Cain, how long have you been the keeper of this so called gate?”

Cain’s eyes widened, then narrowed to slits. “You know too much for a simple traveler.” Its head snapped to an impossible angle, studying Vell from a new perspective. “The gate… yes, the gate. It hungers, always hungers. But you…” It took a shambling step forward. “You smell different. Your soul isn’t like the others.”

“Maybe we should discuss this properly,” he suggested, gesturing toward the tower. “Face to face, instead of through your puppet?”

A laugh erupted from the lizard’s throat, a sound like breaking glass mixed with screaming. “Oh, you want to enter my tower? My sanctuary?” The creature’s body began to deteriorate, scales falling off as Cain’s possession intensified. “Many have made that request. Would you like to hear their last words?”

Without warning, the air around them filled with whispers – countless voices crying out in agony and despair. The voices of those who had challenged Cain before, their final moments preserved like twisted trophies.

“Impressive trick,” he remarked, his smile never wavering. “But I’ve seen better.”

The lizard’s body suddenly went rigid, then collapsed to the ground like a puppet with cut strings. The other lizardmen who had been watching in terror also fell, their bodies twitching.

[He’s retreating. Drawing power back to the tower.]

A deep rumble shook the ground, and the tower’s entrance slowly opened, revealing a darkness that seemed to breathe. A voice echoed from within, no longer using the lizardman as a conduit.

“Come then, challenger. Let us speak properly.” The voice was smoother now, almost pleasant, but carried an undercurrent of something ancient and hungry. “Let me see what makes you so… special.”

Vell walked toward the entrance, stepping over the fallen lizardmen. As he passed the leader’s body, he noticed the enchanted sword still clutched in its clawed hand. He bent down and picked it up, testing its weight.

[Taking trophies already?]

“Just being practical,” he muttered, examining the blade’s magical properties. “Besides, he won’t be needing it anymore.”

The sword hummed in his grip, its enchantments responding to his mana. It was a well-crafted weapon, despite its crude appearance. The magic within it felt old, predating even Cain’s presence here.

As he approached the tower’s entrance, the whispers grew louder. The voices seemed to be trying to warn him, or perhaps they were begging to be freed. It was hard to tell where one voice ended and another began.

The darkness beyond the entrance shifted like a living thing, tendrils of shadow reaching out before retreating again. The air that flowed from within carried the scent of decay and something else – a metallic tang that reminded him of blood.

[The mana density is off the charts. Whatever Cain is, he’s been absorbing power for centuries.]

“Good,” he said, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “That means he has something worth taking.”

He paused at the threshold, looking back at the village one last time. The buildings seemed to blur at the edges, as if reality itself was less stable this close to the tower. In windows and doorways, he could see villagers watching, their shadows still stretching toward him despite the tower blocking the sun.

The young girl from earlier approached and stood in the street, her ball clutched tightly to her chest. Her shadow danced around her feet like a restless animal. When their eyes met, she smiled that too-wide smile again.

“The last one screamed for days,” she said, Cain’s voice mixing with her childish tone. “Will you scream too?”

He turned back to the entrance, his grip tightening on the enchanted sword. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not much for screaming.” He took a step into the darkness. “Let’s see what you’re really hiding, Cain.”

The darkness swallowed him whole, and the tower’s entrance sealed shut behind him with a sound like a satisfied sigh. Inside, the air was thick and stagnant, carrying centuries of trapped breath.

As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he found himself in a circular chamber. The walls were covered in the same writhing patterns he’d seen on the tower’s exterior, but here they moved more freely, forming and reforming into faces that mouthed silent words.

“Welcome to my home,” Cain’s voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere. “Few make it this far. Fewer still do so by choice.”

Torches along the walls suddenly blazed to life, but the flames were wrong – they burned black, casting shadows that moved against the light. The chamber was larger than it first appeared, its ceiling lost in darkness above.

At its center stood a figure that could only be Cain. He appeared human at first glance, tall and regal in flowing robes that seemed to be made of living shadow. But as Vell looked closer, he saw that Cain’s form was fluid, parts of him occasionally dissolving into mist before reforming.

“Now then,” Cain said, his face settling into something approximating human features. “Let’s discuss why you’re really here.” His eyes were pools of swirling darkness, but there was intelligence there – and hunger.

[His form isn’t stable. The mana holding him together is… strange. Like it’s being constantly consumed and regenerated.]

Vell stepped further into the chamber, his own mana rising to meet the oppressive power that filled the air. The enchanted sword in his hand hummed more intensely, responding to the presence of its former master.

“Ah, you found the hero’s sword,” he noticed, his lips curling into something that might have been a smile. “He was the last one to make it this far. Such determination in that one, such… flavor.” He gestured at the walls, where one of the moving patterns formed into a screaming face before dissolving again.

“I have to ask,” he said, studying the blade with renewed interest. “What exactly are you? Not human, obviously. Not anymore.”

Cain’s form rippled like water in a breeze. “What am I?” He laughed, the sound echoing strangely. “I am what necessity made me. What this place required.” He spread his arms, and the shadows in the room writhed. “I am the keeper, the guardian, the seal that prevents what lies beyond from breaking through.”

“And what exactly lies beyond?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Cain’s form suddenly solidified, becoming more definitively human-like. “But you haven’t answered my question yet. Who are you, really? What makes you different from the others?”

Vell’s smile widened slightly. “Why don’t you try to figure it out?”

The challenge in his voice was clear, and Cain’s expression shifted to one of intrigue. The shadows in the room began to gather, pooling around their master like eager pets.

“Oh,” Cain’s voice carried a note of genuine pleasure. “How very interesting.”

The chamber’s black flames surged as Cain’s laughter echoed, shadows coiling like serpents around his feet. “You truly wish to challenge me? Delightful.” His hand flicked, and a whip of darkness lashed toward Vell’s throat—a casual, almost playful strike.

Vell pivoted, the enchanted sword humming as it cleaved through the shadow. The severed tendril dissolved into smoke, but the blade glowed brighter, its edge now shimmering with absorbed energy.

[The sword’s absorbing his essence. It’s a soul-forged weapon—effective against spectral forms, not bad]

Cain tilted his head, observing the blade. “Clever. His sword still bites, even in death.” He snapped his fingers, and the wall patterns detached, forming three screaming specters that dive-bombed Vell. Their wails reverberated, disorienting, but Vell channeled mana into the sword, unleashing a crescent arc of light. The specters shattered like glass, their shrieks cut short.

“Predictable,” he taunted, though his grip tightened on the hilt. The sword pulsed warmly, as if alive.

“Indeed?” Cain’s form blurred, reappearing behind Vell in a swirl of mist. A shadow dagger materialized in his hand, thrusting toward Vell’s ribs. Vell twisted, parrying with the sword, but the dagger liquefied mid-strike, reforming as a chain that wrapped around his forearm. The metal burned cold, sapping his mana.

[He’s siphoning you! Break the link!]

He grinned, letting the drain continue for a heartbeat—then flooded the chain with a surge of raw, chaotic mana. Cain hissed as the shadow-chain recoiled, its surface cracking with violet lightning.

“Reckless,” Cain murmured, though his eyes gleamed. “To retaliate by overfeeding my hunger… you’re either mad or brilliant.”

“Try both.” He slammed his palm into the floor, releasing a shockwave of mana that shattered the stone beneath them. Cain dissolved into smoke, but the blast disrupted his reformation, scattering his essence. For a moment, his true form flickered—a skeletal figure bound by glowing chains fused to the tower’s heart.

[What the hell?]

Vell lunged toward the flickering anchor point, but Cain recovered, coalescing with a roar. The chamber itself seemed to attack now: floor tiles erupted into shadow spikes, and the black flames condensed into a wolf-like beast that pounced. Vell spun, slicing the fire-wolf’s jaws apart with the sword, then channeling its absorbed energy into a protective barrier against the spikes.

“Remarkable,” Cain breathed, watching the barrier repel his assault. “You adapt… evolve mid-combat. Your soul—it’s not just different. It’s alive in ways I haven’t tasted in eons.” He raised both hands, and the temperature plummeted. Frost crept up the walls as a vortex of shadows and ice formed above him. “Let’s see you adapt to this.”

The vortex unleashed a hailstorm of jagged shadow-ice. Vell ducked and weaved, the sword a blur as it deflected projectiles, each parry charging the blade further. But a shard grazed his shoulder, and the wound burned unnaturally—Cain’s corruption seeping in.

Vell’s eyes flicked upward. The ceiling’s darkness churned like a storm. He feinted left, then channeled all the sword’s stored energy into a single upward thrust. A beam of light pierced the vortex, striking the ceiling. The tower shuddered, and Cain staggered, his connection to the gate momentarily disrupted.

The chamber fell silent, the shadows retreating. Cain stood motionless, his form flickering between a gaunt man and the skeletal truth beneath. “…You saw the anchor,” he said, voice tinged with reluctant admiration. “No one has… not in centuries.”

Vell lowered the sword, his expression unreadable. “Is that it? seriously?”

Cain’s laughter was softer now, almost human. “Hehehe, arrogant human, you’ll do nicely.” The chamber’s walls melted away, revealing a spiral staircase leading upward. “Come. Let’s discuss terms… properly.” His eyes lingered on the sword. “But do keep that blade ready. Our next test won’t be so… simple.”

He looked at the stairs leading up the tower and smirked, “good, I was almost disappointed.”