Gunjo walked through a desolate field of red gras under the black and red sky, he was on his system window, checking out his current stats.
[Level 2]
Strength: 300 /10000
Speed: 350/10000
Magic : 300/10000
Dexterity: 280/10000
Constitution: 270/10000
Intelligence: 500/10000
Wisdom: 300/10000
Charisma: 280/10000
Toughness : 1,017/10000
'Hmmmmm. Yeah. Yeah. Looks about right. I remember when all the numbers were just at one. I thought I had gotten pretty damn strong, but that Umibozu…the time I felt real excruciating fear..I forced myself to be overconfident when fighting it, even though I had my doubts…I still lost…right in front of the Five Thrones. I never thought I'd see myself actually crying at their knees. I can't let that happen again. I won't let that happen again. Anyway, this stalker system window gave me two side quests to complete to earn some XP and skill points, but didn't tell me how much I would get, so am I just following it blindly? I can't NOT trust it, this stalker window has been helping me, making me stronger, or just flat out bullying me. Either way, I have no choice. I'm still wanting to figure out what exactly it is, why it's here, and where it's from..'
A map opened on Gunjo's system window, showing yellow dots leading him like a waypoint, leading him to a place called Albrencan Hollows.
Gunjo, the skeletal man, traversed the Albrencan Hollows with foreboding caution. Each step he took was accompanied by the crunching sound of his bone against the gravelly obsidian-infused ground. A chilling wind whipped around him, carrying the scent of sulfur and decay, mixing with the nearly intoxicating aroma of dark nectar exuded by the indigenous flora. The air was thick with the creeping miasma that rose from the countless pits dotting the landscape.
The Hollows themselves were a grotesque marvel; trees crafted of black and deepest purple crystals jutted out of the fractured terra, their jagged branches clawing at the smoke-choked skies. These forest sentinels were devoid of life in the conventional sense, yet they shimmered with an eerie inner light that gave the impression of a sinister sentience. Gunjo could hear the soft, haunting hum that resonated from them, a sound not of this world.
The landscape undulated, rising in steep crystalline ridges only to plummet abruptly into shadowed canyons. The rumbles of distant collapses echoed through the canyons, reminding all creatures of the Hollows' ever-shifting and merciless nature.
'This place..'
Beneath the never-ending gloom of the hollow's canopy, the cacophony of unearthly screeches reverberated around Gunjo. As Gunjo marched on, the crunch of crystal underfoot mingling with the ceaseless noise, he could feel the vibrations of the Hollows under his skeletal feet. Each step sent a shiver up his spine, the ground pulsating with the same rhythm as the heaving chest of some colossal, silent beast lying beneath the earth.
Gunjo began to sweat, saying to himself, "Is it because I'm weaker that I feel these emotions? My heart is racing..I hate it."
The air was alive with electricity, a testament to the raw energy that coursed through the veins of this cursed land. The faintly glowing crystals not only provided an uncanny light but also cast eerie shadows that writhed and danced with a mind of their own. Gunjo glanced occasionally at these distortions of darkness, acknowledging their presence while focusing his mind against the unsettling effect they had on him.
He came upon a vast pit, its mouth agape like the entrance to the underworld itself. The edges were lined with crystals that reflected the little light that dared penetrate this depth. From the pit spewed forth tumultuous plumes of violet-tinged vapor, filling the air with the stench of brimstone and molten rock. The skeletal man could feel the heat on his bones, an uncomfortable sensation that reminded him he was still subject to the fiery whims of this forsaken place.
Despite the hellish environment, Gunjo was not alone. From time to time, he could discern the fleeting glimpses of other infernal inhabitants - grotesque creatures that skulked between the trees and slithered through the cracks in the earth. Their eerie eyes glinted from the shadows, shining briefly before retreating back into the darkness. The subtle skitter of their claws upon the crystalline bark was just audible over the ambient din.
The air's pressure seemed to change as he ventured deeper into the Albrencan Hollows. A feeling of unspeakable dread filled the atmosphere, weighing upon Gunjo like the oppressive gaze of an unseen predator. It was a sensation known well to those who dared to travel these parts—a constant reminder that, despite the Hollows' majestic terror, they were a place of predation and perpetual peril.
'I've never been here, it's so broody, edgy, dark, etc. Even when I was demon king, I never even thought about venturing out to places like this. Like why the hell should I have? I used to think these inhabitants were stepping stones, pawns and shit. Worthless weak beings I could trample over at any given time, I decided not to waste my time. But here I am, bottom of the filth, a skeleton. A skeleton with hair on his head…why did that grow there after the fight with the Umibozu…? Showing me some sort of memory I never knew about..but it felt like nostalgia…? I don't know.'
Gunjo's progress came to a sudden halt as a morose congregation materialized before him, their forms both pitiable and chilling. The beings were kith of the Hollows, known amongst the denizens of hell as the "Ashen Whisperers." Their dark gray skin pulled taut over sinew and bone, an echo of humanity's pallor twisted by the cruelty of Hell's embrace. Locks of dark purple hair fell in matted tangles, framing their gaunt faces and those haunting dark yellow eyes that seemed to burn with a forlorn hope.
"What..the hell are these things?" Gunjo asked himself.
[System notification: This desolate tribe's history was written in the very ground they trod upon, a testament to the battles waged for dominion of the Albrencan Hollows. Once serene stewards of this crystalline wasteland, the Ashen Whisperers had been usurped by a mighty force known as Bahamut The Worthless. This tyrant was neither merciful nor benevolent, and under its heel, their homeland had become a place of torment and despair. You have Begun the Children of Bahamut Quest. The Beings of the Hollows had their land ravaged and controlled by Bahamut the Worthless. He challenges the Whisperers for a worthy fight, and whosoever defeats him, will gain their land back. These beings have been taking turns trying to fight him to the death, but they have been losing. Your task is to defeat Bahamut, and deliver these lands back to the Whisperers. Rewards: 50 XP, 8 skill points]
Gunjo chuckled under his breath, saying, "Haha…so this is the quest huh? Who is the Bahamut guy anyway?"
'Maybe I should listen around, see what the others are saying. Some of them are looking at me all weird.'
Gunjo stayed his step, becoming a silent observer as the Whisperers huddled in their ranks, a mixture of emotions emanating from the cluster of desperate souls.
"Silence your tremors, we must be resolute," a female Whisperer stated, her tone laced with anger as she glowered at her comrades. Her arms, rotted and fraying at the edges, betrayed her facade of fearlessness.
"But he devours our screeches as if they were but whimpers," quivered a younger male, the terror in his voice piercing the muttering assembly. His lesser rotted limbs spoke of a life not yet wholly consumed by misery.
"Bahamut is but a bloated beast gorging on a false throne," boasted another, his chest puffed in arrogance, the rot on his arms exposing the hubris of his bravado—he was steeped in the intoxication of rebellion.
"Are we to cast ourselves into the pit, then?" a quaking voice pitched high with nervousness rose from the rear, one too acquainted with the kiss of defeat.
Their chatter stirred the air, a cacophony of defiance and trepidation, as they lined up one by one, a procession fueled by flickering conviction. It was their moment to rise against the oppression, to reclaim what once allowed them to wander through the Hollows with somber grace. The Whisperers moved with a sense of purpose, the kind that is forged in the crucible of shared suffering.
"We will falter not against Bahamut The Worthless. Our arms may be rotted, but our will remains unbroken!" the female leader exclaimed, rallying the souls before her.
"Hey is that Gunjo…?"
"Yeah that's him!"
"Has he come to beat us too?!"
"No…look at his form…you can tell he's weakened now."
Gunjo replied with an annoyed smile, "Oh yeah? Damn all of you. You're lucky I even showed up."
"Still has that attitude everyone's been talking about."
'They suddenly attacked me with words first! But were they lying? No. I am weakened now, but I'm getting better. I should be nice. Just this once, I won't be getting soft now.'
Gunjo sighed, "Alright alright, my bad. Let's all calm down. Now where's this Bahamut guy?"
As he observed the procession steel themselves for the impossible challenge, a soft whisper of movement caught his attention. A small boy, distinctly one of the Ashen Whisperers, crept from the back of the line. His miniature form was less ravaged by the ceaseless corruption, and his eyes brimmed with an innocence not yet smothered by the Hollows' desolation.
The child navigated through the adults, betraying not a hint of fear or sorrow, his strangely luminescent eyes locked onto Gunjo's skeletal form. He approached with determined steps, looking up with a mix of curiosity and wonder surging within his jaundiced gaze.
'Please…help us…'
And then, without a word, the child reached out, his delicate, partially rotted hand grasping Gunjo's own bony fingers. His grip was firm, an unspoken contract between them, a connection forged in the most unlikely of circumstances—a silent plea for understanding, or perhaps a momentary refuge in the company of another outcast.
Gunjo looked at him, saying, "Who are you? Why are you touching me?"
"I'm R-Rowlai. W-We need your help…please."
"Where is this bastard anyway? I'm kinda forced to do this. And no one's answering me? And my system stalker window isn't telling me where he is?"
Rowlai pointed forward, and there was a spiraling clear red portal in between two Crystal tree's, and the Whisperer beings were walking through it one by one.
Gunjo asked, "So he took your home, and challenged all of you to kill him just to take your home back? Why don't you just jump his ass?"
Rowlai responded, "We're not strong enough…the Whisperers aren't known to be strong, they're barely above the level of a skeleton, like yourself."
"If you know that, then why ask for my help..?"
'Even though I have to help anyway for the quest.'
Rowlai replied, "W-Well, you're n-not dead yet. Right?"
Gunjo gasped silently.
Rowlai continued, "Y-You're not weak, b-because I've heard you were g-getting hunted. I saw you fight t-the Umibozu..you were beaten..b-but you're here again."
"Kid.."
"I-If you were able to fight him and come back…you can do that with Bahamut, right?"
Gunjo thought, 'With only three lives left, I do come back. Fighting here in itself is a gamble and a risk, but I fight with everything I have. This kid…it's like he's the only one who truly believes me here…why do I feel the urge to actually help them? Yeah I know I'm doing a quest, but I feel like I would help them without the quest. Before, I wouldn't have imagined helping out weak hell beings and creatures…what's happening to me? NO WAY I'M GROWING SOFT?!'
Gunjo cleared his throat, saying, "V-Very well then! I'll kill this thing, get my XP and skill points, and scurry out of here!"
"Skill…points?"
"Ah, forget it. Let's go."
The Whisperers around gossiped:
"Yeah he's gonna die."
"Rowlai is going with him? He's just a kid. He'll die too!"
"That kid Rowlai's parents were killed by members of the Demonic Order. He won't listen to anyone, just leave him be. Maybe this will wake him up."
"Gunjo came here for no reason. Just to get shit on."
Gunjo stopped near the portal, his body and arms twitching because he was fighting the urge to whip out his scythe and slice everyone in half.
"Is he okay? Having second thoughts?" One of the Whisperers commented.
Gunjo thought, 'The me from before would've slaughtered everyone here. And I've already been literally shit on once, by that stupud bunny Yaien! How dare they bring up my trauma!'
Gunjo turned around slowly, "I just wanted to fill you all in on something…..I think…I think you all should die in a hole. Good day." Gunjo dashed into the portal Rowlai, and the Whisperers exclaimed:
"Damn him!"
"Skeleton Bastard!"
Gunjo and Rowlai made it through the portal, and Gunjo's jaw dropped. Gunjo took the first step towards the domain of Bahamut The Worthless, with young Rowlai's fragile hand still encased within his own. An unsettling chill enveloped them as they ventured into the bleak expanse, leaving the oppressive crystals of the Albrencan Hollows behind. The land ahead was a stark, desolate desert, a quiet dread lying across vast sands that sprawled endlessly beneath a tempestuous sky painted in somber shades of gray and red.
"Oh shit…" Gunjo looked around.
Whistling winds carried with them the coarse granules of the desolation, pelting against Gunjo's bones and Rowlai's weathered skin. They trudged forward, the hollow sound of the skeleton's footsteps mingling with the soft shuffle of the child's stride. As they advanced, an eerie silence settled around them.
The horizon was punctuated by an ominous congregation of immense figures, each standing over 20 feet tall. Cloaked in sackcloth that whipped and tore at the command of the wind, these colossal sentinels formed two parallel aisles stretching towards the center of the wasteland. Their oversized hands were pressed together in a mockery of pious devotion, golden beads dangling from their clasped fingers, tinkling softly – a dissonant lullaby against the backdrop of despair.
In the distance, seated upon a grotesque throne of Whisperer bodies, lurked Bahamut The Worthless. The creature was a monstrous visage of might and malevolence, a 15-foot beast whose muscular form pulsed with raw power. His fur was a tapestry of endless night, adorned with crystalline spikes that reflected the dark purple and black of his being. Bahamut's aura flickered like the shadow of a dying flame, its potency undiminished even as it oscillated between the realms of existence. He was in the shape of a Jaguar, leaking with an aura of malevolent energy.
"So this is him, huh?"
Gunjo and Rowlai could discern the unmistakable roar of battle emanating from the jaguar's position. Fear spiked in the child's grip, yet he did not falter. As they drew closer, they witnessed the defiance of the Whisperers, their gaunt figures launching one after another into the fray, magic crackling from their rotted limbs as they hurled themselves towards their foe.
"The heart of the tyrant is ever vulnerable to the lance of justice!" shouted a Whisperer, her voice slicing through the clamor as she conjured an ethereal blade from the very sands beneath them.
Bahamut turned towards her, his intense eyes glinting with amusement. With impossible speed, he leaped into the air, evading the magical assault, and landed with devastating force, crushing the life from the Whisperer beneath his jagged crystal spines.
"Persistence is our blade, relentless in its swing!" cried another fighter as he surged forth, summoning arcs of purple energy that crackled towards the jaguar.
Undeterred, Bahamut snarled, his mighty tail swiping through the air and disrupting the magic with a formidable shockwave. His paws, sharp as the edges of night, cleaved through the Whisperer's form, rendering his spirit unto the winds.
One after another, they came, rage and sorrow fueling their onslaught, a resolute orchestra of spell and steel against the unyielding oppressor.
"We strike as one, unbroken in our march!" the Whisperers chanted in unison, their ragged figures casting aside fear for a desperate hope, they might reclaim their desecrated land.
Bahamut's malicious laughter mocked their efforts, a sound that dug at the soul like the claws of hell itself. "Fools," he boomed, his voice as biting as the desert wind. "Do you not tire of this futile game?"
"We tire not, for our homeland sings through our veins!" retorted an elder, his eyes blazing with ancestral fire as he prepared his spell.
His attempt to encase Bahamut in a prism of light was ambitious, yet the unwavering predator within Bahamut shattered the construct with a mere twitch of his powerful form.
With each fallen Whisperer, the odds grew steeper, the reality grimmer. Yet the battle raged on, their determination a stubborn flame against the overwhelming darkness.
"You may break our bodies, but our spirits remain unyielded!" another Whisperer vowed, daring once more to face the tyrant.
Gunjo stood sentinel beside Rowlai, bearing witness to the relentless clash. The skeleton's hollow gaze never wavered, even as cries of valor were silenced beneath Bahamut's brutal strength.
Rowlai squeezed Gunjo's hand in silent understanding. They were but spectators in this tragic saga, worlds colliding within the dust and fury that sought to reclaim a shred of dignity from the jaws of defeat.
Bahamut, licking blood from his body, said, "Oh? We got some new competitors here. Very well. Rules are simple, we fight one on one. Whoever is worthy enough to beat me will gain their land back—."
Rowlai asked, "W-Why are you doing this?! It's wrong!"
"Take a look around you, kid. Nothing is right, everything is wrong. Hell was designed to be that way, the only ones who see themselves right are these members of the Order, and the Five Thrones. But us? We don't have that privilege. I figured if I make a challenge out of this, I would gain the respect of all the other beings I pray on; the influence of the Order influenced me to act like them in order to gain dominance as they have. It's an endless cycle, I know the Whisperers are weak, I know I won't lose. I'll instill fear in them every single day. So—."
Gunjo yanwed, "Blahhhh blahhh fucking blah. Can we get this over with?"
"Hm? It's you! HAHA! What?! I can't believe it! You! Gunjo! The infamous demon king, the one banished from the Order, now as a skeleton, is here! In my face! My domain! What, have you come to avenge these people? You're turning into a good guy now ever since you've been stripped of your power?"
"Uh no. I'm just bored. Ya know. Just hanging around, looking to fight." Gunjo lied.
"Well you've come to the right place, as you will die like the rest of these beings. Rules though. We fight one on one, if that rule is broken, the tall Sentinel demons around will attack and kill the rest of the Whisperers outside. That's all. Gunjo, you will be my next opponent—."
Rowlai walked forward, saying, "—N-No. I will."
Gunjo asked, "Kid?! What are you doing?"
"I have to prove m-myself too, yeah? My p-parents…the only way I can avenge them is by starting here, with my f-first real fight."
"Do you have any idea what you're getting yourself into?"
"N-No. not really. Please let me do this."
Gunjo thought, 'This kid..'
Bahamut sighed, "Ugh. I guess I'll do it then. I'll bite. The children are always the weakest."
Rowlai walked forward, clenching his fists, sweat beaming from his head. Bahamut moved forward as well, drool leaking from the side of his sharp teeth under his grin.
'This brat is gonna see why he shouldn't meddle with adult business—!'
THOOM!
Rowlai was twisting above him in full speed, and punched Bahamut in the head. Bahamut's body smashed against the ground, creating the ground to thunder in violent vibrations.
Gunjo, shocked, said, "What the-?!"
Rowlai zig zagged in the air at full speed, as Bahamut said, "Tch, that hurt. Perhaps I underestimated you. Oh well then, I guess I'll try harder."
Bahamut dashed left, then underground, crawling fast. But when he blasted upwards from the surface, Rowlai was already under him, grabbed his tail, leaped high into the air, spun around at least 5 times fast, and launched Bahanut back down to the ground. Bahamut hit the ground over and over, rolling over and over violently.
'How is this kid doing this?!'
Bahamut got himself together, and as soon as he did, Rowlai landed fist first onto Bahamut's face, using his fists to slam Bahamut into the ground again, and started punching him over and over with both fists at full speed, blood spattered everywhere, and Gunjo watched in shock.
'He's beating the shit out of him, should I just let him complete my quest for me? And I go home? Dammit I want to. But I can't. What's keeping me here?'
Rowlai and Bahamut were darting on the sand, Bahamut throwing super fast claw strikes, and even shooting a large purple and black electric beam from its mouth. Rowlai was dashing backwards, leaping and flipping to dodge the orbs. He leaped high in the air, and an orb was coming at him. But Rowlai twisted and kicked it back at Bahamut.
'He hit my magic?!'
Rowlai dashed right behind Bahamut now with a fist, saying, "Bye."
Bahamut roared, and his form became bigger, and he grew black horns all over his body, and he fur became sharp, and his eyes red.
Gunjo said, "Kid! I don't know if you noticed or not, but he's transforming! Back up!"
Rowlai pressed forward to attack, but multiple black and purple magic crests opened up all around Rowlai, and they shot forward. Catching him off guard before Rowlai could dash away.
They landed, and Rowlai was laying on the ground, covered in blood and dirt. He was coughing, his tears falling.
Bahamut walked forward with a grin, saying, "Aww poor kid. Should've known this was gonna happen. I admit you kept me on my toes for a bit; I never went into my true form with a scrubby little Whisperer. But now it ends. You've fought well, maybe one day I'll avenge your parents for you against the Order, I hate them too."
Bahamut raised his claws up, and slammed it down.
Gunjo watched, saying, "Get the hell up!"
'Saving anyone or anything…is just gross in my opinion. Just saying ... .is what I thought before. But even if I save him..won't those Sentinels go attack the other Whisperers? Save one life, or a bunch? Why put me in this predicament..or is there a way to save both..? Why do I care? They talked shit about me. That means I have to hold a grudge against them, right? They have a purpose too, a goal, like this kid.'
ZIIING!
FWOOM!
Dust shot out, and Gunjo was under Bahamut, blocking his attack with his scythe. In his Charrged Ascendance form, with one glowing horn coming out of his right eye, he said, "Fuck the rules…I'm playing now…"
Bahamut said, "You were always known to be the one to never follow orders anyway, this is gonna be fun! And you've put those other bastards in danger."
"We'll see about that..!"