Chereads / Infinite Ascent: The Laughing Immortal / Chapter 5 - Chapter 5: "The Hunt Begins"

Chapter 5 - Chapter 5: "The Hunt Begins"

The Red Marsh stretched out like a scar upon the landscape, its murky waters reflecting the crimson hues of the sunset. Jagged trees jutted out from the ground like broken bones, their twisted roots half-submerged in the stagnant pools that dotted the marsh. The air was heavy with the smell of decay, a sickly-sweet odor that clung to the back of the throat.

Dorian crouched atop a large boulder, his hood pulled back as he scanned the horizon. He'd been tracking Kaleus for the better part of two days, following the faint trail of clues left behind: a discarded ration wrapper here, a crushed blade of grass there. The coward had always been sloppy, even back in the old days.

A lazy grin spread across Dorian's face as he stood, brushing the dirt from his hands. "You never were good at covering your tracks, Kaleus," he muttered, his voice dripping with amusement. "Makes this almost too easy."

He leapt down from the boulder, his boots splashing into the shallow water below. The marsh was quiet, save for the occasional croak of a distant frog or the rustling of unseen creatures in the reeds.

Dorian moved with purpose, his steps light but deliberate, his sharp eyes scanning every shadow. The hunt wasn't just about vengeance—it was a test. A chance to see how far he'd come.

The trail led him to a cluster of ancient ruins, half-swallowed by the marsh. Moss and vines crept across the crumbling stone walls, their surfaces etched with faint, faded runes. A chill ran down Dorian's spine as he stepped closer, his grin faltering for the first time.

He placed a hand on one of the stones, his fingers tracing the faint carvings. "This place..." he murmured, his voice barely audible. For a brief moment, he felt as though the ground beneath him might shift, the walls closing in around him. His breaths came faster, his chest tightening as if a heavy weight had been dropped onto it.

A memory surfaced, unbidden.

The chamber.

His body had been pinned to the cold stone floor, a jagged spike of obsidian skewering him through the chest. Blood pooled beneath him, warm and sticky, as the light in his eyes dimmed.

But death did not bring relief.

The spike shattered, withdrawing as his body convulsed. His lungs filled with air once more, his heart thundering back to life. The pain was immediate, sharp and unrelenting, as though the universe had decided that resurrection came at a price.

He screamed, the sound tearing from his throat like a wounded animal.

A voice echoed in his mind, faint and detached: "Again."

And the spike came down once more.

Dorian shook his head violently, dispelling the memory like swatting away a fly. His grin returned, a mask he wore as much for himself as for the world. "Not now," he muttered. "Focus. Kaleus comes first."

He stepped into the ruins, his fingers brushing the hilt of his dagger. The air here was different—denser, heavier. He could feel the faint hum of magic lingering in the stones, though its power had long since waned.

"Nice hideout," Dorian said, his voice echoing faintly. "I'd almost say it suits you, Kaleus. Quiet. Pathetic. Forgotten."

A faint sound reached his ears—a shuffle, the scrape of boots against stone. Dorian's grin widened, his eyes narrowing as he followed the noise. He moved like a shadow, his steps silent, his breath steady.

He found Kaleus in the corner of what had once been a grand chamber, now little more than rubble. The man sat hunched over, his back to the entrance, his hands trembling as he clutched a rusted sword. His armor was battered, his clothes torn and caked with mud.

For a moment, Dorian simply watched, his grin fading into something colder. Kaleus looked smaller than he remembered. Weaker.

The hatred simmering in his chest threatened to spill over, but he held it back. This wasn't the time for rage. This was the time for control.

"Kaleus," Dorian said softly, his voice carrying across the chamber like a whisper on the wind.

The man froze, his shoulders stiffening. Slowly, he turned, his wide, bloodshot eyes locking onto Dorian's.

"D-Dorian?" Kaleus stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Surprised to see me?" Dorian stepped forward, his grin returning in full force. "I would be too. After all, you and the others left me in a very... permanent situation."

Kaleus scrambled to his feet, his rusted sword clutched tightly in his shaking hands. "Stay back!" he shouted, though his voice cracked on the last syllable. "I-I'll kill you if you come any closer!"

Dorian tilted his head, his grin never wavering. "Kill me?" He let out a laugh, loud and sharp, the sound bouncing off the ruined walls. "Oh, Kaleus. You don't even know how. But don't worry—I'll show you."

Kaleus swung first, the rusted blade arcing through the air with all the precision of a blindfolded child. Dorian caught it easily, his hand snapping forward to grip the blade just below the hilt. Sparks danced as the rust flaked away, his strength stopping the strike cold.

"Pathetic," Dorian said, his voice low and venomous. He twisted the blade out of Kaleus's grasp, sending it clattering to the ground.

Kaleus stumbled back, his arms raised defensively. "Wait! Please! Dorian, we didn't have a choice!"

"No choice?" Dorian took another step forward, his grin fading into something more dangerous. "You always had a choice, Kaleus. You could have stood up. You could have fought. But instead, you ran. You left me to die. And for what?"

Kaleus's back hit the wall, his breathing ragged. "Renia—she made us do it! I didn't want to, but she—"

"Don't," Dorian growled, cutting him off. His hand shot out, gripping Kaleus by the throat and lifting him off the ground. "Don't blame her. Don't blame anyone else. This is on you."

He leaned in close, his eyes boring into Kaleus's. "You were weak. You are weak. And weakness is a choice."

Kaleus gasped, clawing at Dorian's arm, his legs kicking uselessly. "I-I'm sorry! Please, I'm sorry!"

Dorian's grip tightened. "No, Kaleus. You're not sorry. Not yet."

The scream that followed was long and guttural, echoing through the ruins as Dorian began his work. He didn't rush. Every movement was deliberate, every act a precise strike meant to draw out the moment.

When it was over, Kaleus was no longer recognizable. Dorian stood over the broken body, his chest rising and falling with measured breaths. He wiped his hands on the tattered remains of Kaleus's cloak, his grin returning as he looked down at his work.

"One down," he said softly. "The rest of you won't be far behind."

As he walked away from the ruins, the faint echoes of Kaleus's screams lingered in the air, a haunting reminder of what was to come.