Embrace of the void

The forest was alive with the sounds of rustling leaves and distant animal calls as Michael and Nyxar made their escape. But even as they fled, a few orcs had picked up their trail, determined to catch up with the duo. Just as the shadows began to thicken around them, Nyxar slipped into action, moving like a wraith through the trees.

 "Get the hell away from us!" Nyxar snarled, his daggers flashing in the dim light as he dispatched the orcs one by one. Their bodies crumpled to the forest floor, lifeless and still, before Nyxar stored them in his own ring.

After what felt like an eternity of running, Michael finally stopped to catch his breath, leaning against a rough tree trunk. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the pain from a large wound on his side was becoming unbearable. Blood seeped through his fingers, and he grimaced at the sight.

 "Damn it," he muttered, fumbling in his pouch for one of the S-grade healing potions. He uncorked it and downed the contents in one swift motion. The potion was bitter, but he could already feel a warm sensation spreading through his body. After a few moments, the sharp pain began to dull, and he could see the edges of the wound starting to close.

As he waited, he glanced around the darkened forest, anxiety creeping in. "Where the hell is Nexar?"

Just then, a shadow emerged from the trees, and Nyxar appeared, his expression a mix of annoyance and urgency. "You took your sweet time bleeding everywhere," he said, crossing his arms. "I had to cover our tracks and deal with a few more orcs who tried to follow us."

 "Great," Michael replied, rolling his eyes. "You know I can't help it if I'm bleeding like a stuck pig."

 "Let's check the bodies of Zagroth and his guard," Nyxar suggested, his tone serious. "We need to make sure there are no tracking marks on them."

Michael nodded, pulling the bodies of the orc chief and his guard from his storage ring. They laid motionless on the forest floor, the remnants of their once-mighty forms now mere husks. The two examined them closely, checking for any signs of tracking spells or magical traces.

Once satisfied that there were no issues, Nyxar added, "I'll check Zagroth's storage ring as well. We can't leave anything to chance."

Michael focused on Zagroth's finger, where a storage ring glinted ominously. He carefully removed it and began to examine its seal. As he activated it, his eyes widened with excitement. "Holy shit! This is loaded!"

Inside the ring he found many weapons, armor, healing potions, and mana recovery potions.To his delight, there were also numerous mana crystals of various grades. "Look at this! We hit the motherfucking jackpot!" he exclaimed, laughter bubbling up uncontrollably.

Nyxar's eyes lit up as he took the ring from Michael. "Let me see," he said, his voice dripping with greed. He examined the contents, pulling out each item with a careful touch. "This is unbelievable! We're set for a while!"

After a thorough inspection, Nyxar began placing the items into Michael's storage ring. "I'll get rid of Zagroth's ring to avoid any trouble," he said, his smile fading as he became more serious.

He dug a hole in the forest floor and buried the ring deep. "No sense in letting it fall into the wrong hands," he muttered, covering it up with dirt.

With the bodies dealt with and their loot secured, the duo continued their journey home, taking extra precautions to hide their tracks. They moved swiftly through the underbrush, the weight of their mission still hanging heavy on their shoulders.

After a while, they finally reached the city wall. Nyxar used his innate ability to transport them inside, the shadows wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. They navigated the alleys, sticking to the dark corners to avoid prying eyes.

Arriving at their house, they paused to ensure that no one had seen them. Michael let out a relieved sigh. "Damn, I need to rest and take a shower," he said, grimacing as he felt the fatigue wash over him.

Nyxar leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "Our mission is over," he replied, his voice low and calm. "But now we have to see what those idiots from the Crimson Hand Alliance will do. They're not going to take our actions lightly."

 "What do we do now if we avoid the forest?" Nyxar asked, his voice low and serious.

Michael leaned back against the wall, thinking hard. "We'll have to go to one of the dungeons in the city. But that will require obtaining an Awakened License. We'll head to the Awakened Guild tomorrow to get the license."

Nyxar raised an eyebrow. "You'll have to fake your class and maybe even your rank."

 "Yeah, I've got that covered," Michael said, a confident smirk creeping onto his face. "I'll use the {Fool's Cuff} I got from Lady Nora to fake my class and rank."

 "Have you thought about what class you'll pretend to have?" Nyxar asked, curiosity piqued.

Michael nodded, excitement bubbling up. "I was thinking maybe a Destruction Wizard, a Magic Swordsman, or even a Summoner or a Beast Master."

Nyxar crossed his arms, considering the options. "Why Summoner or Beast Master?"

Michael's expression turned thoughtful. "When I tested my {Undead Revival} skills on that Headless Goblin and the Wolf, I noticed something strange. They didn't look undead at all. They looked like their previous selves, just with eyes burning in purple and black fire. And that was without using my innate ability to evolve them."

Nyxar's eyes widened. "So you're saying if you use your skills on the orc corpses we collected, and developed them using your innate ability, maybe that you may not need to conceal their presence."

"Exactly," Michael replied, his voice intense. "Think about it. If I could summon them without arousing suspicion—if they resembled their former selves after the upgrade—then claiming to be a Summoner or Beast Master would be perfect. No one would connect the dots."

"If the orcs could resemble you or possess even 20% of your potential, it would be highly advantageous."

"But if you summon orcs, you'll alert the Crimson Hand Alliance to our presence," Nyxar warned, his tone serious. "You need a plan to pretend you acquired them from somewhere else."

"We'll deal with that later," Michael said, waving his hand dismissively. "Right now, I need a shower and some sleep."

"And I'll return to the Void World to recover my mana. We need to get rid of our clothes too," Nyxar added, glancing down at the blood-soaked fabric.

 "Agreed." Michael headed to the bathroom, stripping off his torn and blood-stained clothes. The water felt heavenly against his skin as he washed away the sweat and grime of battle. He let the hot water wash over him, trying to forget the violence of the night, if only for a moment.

Once he was clean, he stepped out and dried off. He rummaged through the kitchen, preparing some food to refuel his energy. After eating, he activated his skill {Undead Summoning} to return Nyxar to the Void World. A rift opened, swirling with dark energy, and Nyxar stepped towards it.

"Take care," Nyxar said, his voice echoing as he entered the rift. "We have a lot to prepare for."

Michael closed the rift behind him, letting out a deep sigh. "It's still hard to get used to using this skill," he muttered to himself, shaking his head.

He crawled into bed, fatigue washing over him like a heavy blanket. The events of the night replayed in his mind, but exhaustion quickly claimed him, and he fell into a peaceful sleep, hoping that tomorrow would bring new opportunities and fewer bloodstains.