I can’t believe something like that exists! Athar exclaimed in his mind. I just barely saw the tentacle coming, and almost fucking died! The synners must be incredible to fight something like that, he thought. He scurried up to his master, and made an effort to not disobey him again.

They made their way down the spiral to the final cage, passing all kinds of beasts and creatures that he had only ever heard of in legends. When they reached the final cage, he began to realize why the creature inside the cage was all the way at the bottom. Within it lay a royal ochelon. Majestic, yet threatening. All he could do was stare in awe. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” the Masked One said. “Very much so, my lord,” Athar said whilst admiring the beast. It stood about sixty meters tall, with pale, white fur and a horn on its forehead. Like a cross between a unicorn and an ogre, but more threatening, he thought.

“You may be wondering why I’ve brought you here to see the horde beneath this place,” the Masked One said, glancing over toward his servant. Athar could only nod his head. “I’ve come to show you what true power really looks like,” he said. “My lord, this is an incredible beast, to be sure, though why you keep them in cages is beyond me,” the young man began. “I have always assumed - being as powerful as you are - that you could control them, regardless of whether they’re in a cage,” he concluded.

“I can,” his master replied. “Although, the expenditure of mana is quite high. I’d rather keep them where I won’t have to use it perpetually until I find another way of controlling them,” the Masked One explained. “But that is beside the point,” he began, shaking his head. “I’ve brought you here to see how well you would handle yourself amidst such creatures. Showing any signs of weakness is probably the quickest way to being eaten by them,” he said. Athar swallowed dryly.

“It seems as though you are comfortable enough around them. Although, your lack of experience is… telling,” the Masked One said. “I’ve had my fair share of experiences with beasts, although I should mention that an addia was not on that list, my lord,” Athar explained. “Ah. Well, you won’t make the same mistake twice, will you?” the Masked One asked ironically. “Of course, my lord,” the man replied. “Good. That is the very least I expect from a bastard like you,” his master said with disgust. He could feel the sting of those words, but said nothing.

“My lord,” he began after a short break in their conversation. “What is it?” his master asked. “I’m assuming you have some sort of plan to disrupt Truls’ plans to destroy the portals,” Athar said matter of factly. “I do indeed,” the Masked One replied. “However, there is one final thing I need to be sure of before I show you what that will be,” he said and turned to stare his ‘idiot slave’ in the eyes.

With his master’s hand placed on his chest, he closed his eyes in fear. “Look me in the eyes,” the Masked One said. Athar reluctantly gazed into the glowing of his master’s eyes through the small slits in the mask, and felt an unease he had never felt before. I can feel him digging into my soul, like a parasite writhing to make its way out of the body, he thought. His thoughts began to race, though it was not by his command. Rather, it was the work of his master. Worrying that he might have suppressed a memory his master wouldn’t like, he tried to follow his own thoughts; going over every memory, every emotion, every heart-breaking moment.

The Masked One found what he was looking for, and pulled his hand away from his chest.

After what felt like an eternity, he released Athar from his grasp, and the idiot nearly fell to the floor, gasping for air. “H-how?” he asked shakily. The Masked One held up a dark blue orb of pure mana he had retrieved from Athar’s chest. The young man’s palms began to sweat, and with his knees buckling at the sheer pressure of having his soul dug into, he strained to stay on his feet. The Masked One glared at the sphere for a moment, as if confirming he had everything he needed. He looked at his servant, and smiled wickedly beneath his mask.

He was right.

“I hope you’re ready for what I’m about to show you, Athar. Your cooperation just now will be one of the keys to our success,” the Masked One said, condensing the small sphere of mana into the palm of his hand. That’s the first time he’s called me by my name. Then again, I don’t think he ever asked for it. Did he only find out after digging through my soul? Athar thought.

“What do you want to show me, my lord?” he asked with an air of caution, still shaking from the spell. The Masked One didn’t reply, but proceeded to undo the ward on the royal ochelon’s cage. Just as the ward was dispelled, a rune made of mana appeared on the creature's head to control it.

“Follow me,” the Masked One commanded. The creature exited the cage in a zombie-like state. “That means you too, Athar,” he continued. I should be astonished at his abilities, but after having felt him dig through my soul, I can only imagine what this creature is going through, he thought. Just behind the cage was a door that led to an incredibly large summoning circle.

Through the slits of his mask, his eyes glowed an even deeper violet, as the tendrils that once flowed from them were drawn into his eyes as he reached into the Underworld. Though its use was not as widespread as that of the Ethereal realm, it still held its own power. A dark and devastating power, one granted to him from the Undergod, Volzuk.

He looked about him and saw the exact inverse of the Ethereal’s spiral above him. The streaks of power were dark and nearly lifeless, except for bolts of lightning that sewed their ways though the streaks. They moved about in a monochromatic dance, one streak weaving into the other, all heading towards a dark circle in the middle of the sky far above him. Around him lay a dead forest. Trees lay fallen about him, while bones and oozy smells stung his nostrils. With every step he took, a burst of ash-like powder engulfed his feet and ankles. To his right lay a river of blood, where carcasses of fallen beasts were strewn upon the sides.Off in the distance, he heard the desperate screams of a glick being devoured by another, but paid it no heed.

It was a wonder in and of itself that anything could survive there at all.

He looked up at the dark circle in the sky, and reached. Dark tendrils of mana voraciously swarmed down and engulfed him faster than the ones in the Ethereal had gone to Thoma, however, he had many more decades of experience and excellent control. When he had drawn enough, he cut his link to the underworld, and his eyes brightened once more.

He condensed the dark cloud to his left hand, where he formed a large, scarlet claw and drew it back. “What do you plan to do with that, my lord?” Athar asked nervously. “This,” the Masked one said, grinning beneath his mask. The claw rapidly struck the royal ochelon’s chest, but the creature didn’t react. After a few seconds of astonishment, the man noticed the blood that had spilled onto the floor moving into the air where it became stationary. Just then, a mist of mana began to seep from the creature’s body, eventually bursting it into chunks of meat.

The blood, sinew, and entrails were flung around the room by the explosion, as well as Athar’s face.

He let out a yell of disgust, and vomited his breakfast from earlier that morning. “What the actual fuck?” he asked, desperate for an answer other than ‘just for fun’. “Stop being so weak and look,” the Masked One said, visibly disturbed by his servant’s attitude. He was also covered in entrails and blood, but he had to maintain his focus on the task at hand.

Athar looked over at the claw that had impaled the beast and noticed a glowing, red orb in its grasp. “What… is that?” he asked, astounded at the sight in front of him. “This is a core,” the Masked One said. “A core?” the man asked incredulously. “Yes, though it is more commonly referred to as a soul. You see, the core - or soul -  and the body are not one and the same. It is made of pure mana, and bodies - like ours - are not. It can be altered, broken, repaired, or even transformed into something else entirely,” the Masked one began.