Rewind: A Grimdark LitRPG Series (Pyresouls Apocalypse, Book 1) James Callum (best large ereader .TXT) 📖

a skeleton: fire, harmony-based spells, or chaos-based spells. The first destroyed the body, turning it to useless ash. Harmony consecrated the bones, preventing their reanimation. Chaos performed a similar rite but rather than sanctifying the bones, it controlled them and ordered them to stay down.

Without even looking over his shoulder, Jacob reached out and touched the wisp. The flames warmed his back, but he was far enough away for it to be a distant concern.

You gain [Soul of a Wandering Knight].

You gain 2 [Anima].

It was the third such soul he found so far in the upper levels of the Desecrated Catacombs as he made his way northward.

Tucking it away, Jacob turned to regard the piles of ash as two white wisps streaked out and hit him in the chest. Not for the first time he wished they dropped more Souls.

He didn’t know much about the catacombs, it was an area beyond him originally and spoken of in hushed horrified tones even by his brave friend. It was not an area to be traveled lightly and one that should be crossed with all haste.

Great treasures tempted and lured the unwary – or the greedy – into winding tunnels that were filled with death. Jacob had already narrowly escaped two such death tunnels already, abandoning the prizes that glowed tantalizingly in the dark.

He didn’t dare ignite his [Mace] again, because he found that it had a rather ironic effect. The skeletons were drawn to it. Flame offended them, and they sought it out with all the ferocity of a rabid animal.

By keeping to the dark, he struggled to navigate the tunnels but less than half the skeletons that had arrayed against him before rose against him this time. And they were much less likely to follow him indefinitely.

Putting enough winding tunnels between them was sufficient for the monsters to give up the chase. Useful information that he hoped he would never need to make use of again.

Retracing his steps, Jacob joined the main tunnel he was using to get out of the catacombs. Dodging traps and skeletons for the better part of an hour had put him on edge. Every shadow, every sound grabbed at his attention and refused to let him go.

Sparks flashed out into the dark when he crashed his [Mace] into the dark fold between two natural juts of the stone tunnel. There was nothing hiding there, of course.

This was the reason they cycled out their watch back on Earth. Tasking any human to ward against such horrific threats took its toll. Either the person on watch would lapse into carelessness, or they suffered from what Jacob did: hypervigilance.

Every bump in the night, every crunch of a dry leaf, even a glint from the ruddy moonlight, would cause the person to call out the alarm. More often than not their noise and ruckus would attract undue attention that would have passed them by.

Alone, hours without rest, or being able to drop his guard, Jacob tried to get a grip on himself.

There hasn’t been an enemy in some time, he reminded himself.

Looking around the natural tunnel, he began to realize the truth. He wasn’t safe, never that. Only the Pyres were safe. But he could loosen his grip on the [Mace] a little bit.

His hand cramped from the effort of relaxing it, and a thousand aches assaulted his worn-out body. The few hits he took passing through the Desecrated Catacombs had worn through two of his ampoules but he still had an ample supply left.

Centering himself, Jacob breathed in deep through his mouth and forced several slow exhalations through his nose. The rhythmic, calming breathing quieted his raging thoughts.

Moments later, he was on the move again, aware but not overly so. He soon came to a split in the tunnel. The one on his left stayed relatively flat and even, while the right tunnel curved away and to the right at a sloping downward angle.

The left would take him to Hollow Dreams. While the right led to the Drowned Halls. He didn’t much like the sound of that place, and while arriving at Hollow Dreams early might give him an advantage, he had a Pyre to light.

Just to be safe, Jacob equipped the [Ring of Covetous Breath].

Clean, fresh air filled his lungs on each breath. The faint fetid stench that pervaded the tunnels vanished in that same instant.

I guess it really does provide breath. Man, I wished I had this back in the asylum. Camilla reeked.

Even the memory of the stench nearly made him gag. Though the thought of Camilla covered in gore did bring a wistful smile to his lips. He hoped she was okay.

Taking the right path, Jacob set off at a steady jog, armor rattling the whole way. With any luck, the next area would have a Pyre sooner than later.

He didn’t fancy the idea of having to make the hours-long trek through the upper levels of the catacombs again.

He hoped to never see the rotten, bony place ever again.

Sloping downward and curving, Jacob noted how the walls became less natural and more manmade. Blocks of stone replaced the sloping walls. The deeper he went the colder it became.

The Drowned Halls

A slick pervasive dampness filled the halls. Droplets of water that glittered in Jacob’s faint illumination deposited puddles on the floor that he found harder and harder to avoid.

It wasn’t long before he came upon a circular room, with three sealed exits. At the center of the room was a suit of armor on a pedestal. Jacob lifted his shield and cast his gaze about the dim room to see if anything else was lying in wait for him.

He came forward in a rush and shield-smashed into the suit of armor, not at all surprised when it didn’t topple and instead lifted its rusted sightless head toward him.

“Yeah, thought so,” Jacob said. And despite the enemy before him, he found himself relieved to finally have a fight. The tension of waiting was broken and he launched