102. Battle once fought

I looked at the hook-sized hole under the sigil. I extended myself into it only to sense a seal I could not even truly comprehend. I immediately retreated, not risking a backlash from something created by one of the most infamous soul mages in history.

I then turned back to the cat.

“So, is there something more here?” I asked, looking at the signs of the old battle.

“Yes, there is much more,” said the animal, and then pushed on a stone, powering a hidden rune as the wall moved.

No—it wasn’t true to say it moved. It almost disappeared, jumping upwards. I knew what it was.

An ambush point.

But before I could ready my magic, I saw that it wasn’t for me. There was no one in the room.

I looked curiously into the hidden place.

The cat had obviously been there for some time, as the old furniture and some remains of an ancient camp were neatly stacked to the side. There were also some newer additions, a source of light and something I would describe as a research station.

There were also bones lying to the side.

“I found it during my research into the hook,” said the cat, inviting me in with his tail. “The builders of this hidden room were trying to ambush the butcher, but ended up as corpses before they could even step outside. I used the journals, books, and other items left by them to try and understand and locate the hook.”

The cat spoke as he jumped onto a sizable old desk in the room.

“They observed the butcher when he was building his tomb. They researched him and his artifact, and when they thought they had the upper hand, they attacked, only to end up here as nothing but bones.”

I walked into the place. The room was quite big but also empty, and I could see the source of that emptiness as I looked at a spatial pouch sitting on the desk.

“I found it with the corpses,” the cat said, noticing my gaze. “Not sealed, meant to be found, with a note inside asking to take revenge for the seven people killed. Aside from it, there was their research inside—if you can call it that.”

I looked at him, curious. “If you can call it that?”

“They weren’t that powerful by ancient standards, only once-ascended. Their research was based on a lot of assumptions and illogical conclusions. But some info about the tomb did check out.”

“Do you mind?” I asked as I pointed at the pouch.

“Be my guest.”

I spent the next hour rummaging through the notes, journals, and Mr. Cuddles’s own writing that was also in the pouch. And the conclusion he reached was correct. There was a lot of what-ifs and confusion in the research about the butcher. The mechanism of awakening the tomb was described more or less, so I assume they got that right, since it was most likely Cuddles who awakened the key.

“Did you put the key in the slaughterhouse?” I asked, slightly confused.

“No.” The cat shook his head. “I shattered some crystals to mimic ambient mana as the journals described, but didn’t think anything happened. Only then, after some time, I heard about the hook.”

I nodded, so someone, or something else, carried it there.

“Anything useful you can point me to?”

The cat came over and started going over the writings with me, pointing out the parts that weren’t just rambling or jumping to conclusions. And as I read more and more, I saw a pattern emerging.

“Do you have anything describing the people preparing the ambush?” I asked, and the animal pointed me to more personal journals written by the men.

It took me another two hours of going through them before I got a final conclusion.

The mages who initially camped here were the very same whose souls were attached to Peter’s body, and now I understood how they were attached.

There were seven people described in these journals. The team trying to ambush the butcher consisted of a monk, a thunder warrior, a soul healer, a mind warlock, a nature paladin, a fire sorcerer, and a necromancer.

So the hook left a deep soul wound. Somehow, there were souls attached to it still, and they were left in those wounds like infecting organisms. The mutating condition was that a healer must have been the one left in the victim’s body.

Typically, the wound would be fatal, but if a soul capable of high-level regenerative spells was attached, it would instinctively fix the flesh. The high-level healing would regenerate the body alongside the shape of the soul, so that’s how mutations were created.

The boar had a nature paladin—nature possessed many such spells. The first soul to attach after the hook cut into Peter must have been the soul healer.

The fire sorcerer must have been attached to Sandra but couldn’t heal, so the host died.

I still wasn’t sure how they were casting, as human souls needed a spark to contain mana, but those were the ones.

The rest of the research into the hook was also interesting. But what was most notable was a theory about how the weapon tore the souls.

The author once witnessed the hook in action, and apparently, it was both a mind weapon and a soul weapon. It made its way to the spirit through the mind, utilizing the mind’s connection to the soul as a guide of sorts.

The theory proposed by the author was that the hook simply killed the person and then could hold on to the soul by its mental part. That explained why I didn’t sense any minds in the creature. They were inside the artifact.

They used the eyes and mouths of those mutations, but the majority of the mind was attached to the hook.

The only trick was: how would I sever the massive hand with the hook without getting killed in the process?

However, I was also starting to get an idea about that while reading about the Thunder Mage.

The strategy slowly taking shape in my head was slightly risky. But worth a try.

Remembering the creature and the possibility of another fight, I tried sensing my curse, but it was nowhere to be found, so the thing either broke it or removed the flesh and healed. It wasn’t exactly a surprise.

I looked at the time, and it was around midday. There was a good chance the mutant would crash the party today.

After making up my mind, I turned to the cat, who was lying on the desk.

“How about we do it like this,” I said, getting his attention. “I can leave you with whatever you found in this room and in this pouch as a thank-you for showing it to me, and forget about the fact that it took you a long time. But let’s get this straight right now so there are no misunderstandings later. I fight the mutant, I get the hook, I get the tomb.”

“Calm down. You don’t need to intimidate me. I’m retired, remember? I don’t want the artifacts or the knowledge. I just wanted to finish my mission.”

“What miss–” I started and stopped. I then looked at the bones to the side and noticed that they were cleaned and prepared for burial. “That’s how you knew where to look for the tomb. Your family worked with one of the men who died here,” I realized.

“My ancestors were very close with the clan until the butcher destroyed it. The man outmaneuvered my family, and it was our wrong intel that sent the entire clan to their deaths. After that, finding the tomb and opening it became a point of honor for us. Now I’m the last member, just like you, but I’m old and weak. You can take what you want. I just want to bury the last son of the clan in the tomb. He died trying to get to it. He deserves that much.”

“If all you wanted was a burial, why not tell me right away about the place?”

The cat looked down in slight embarrassment. “My family made that mistake. It should be my family alone to fix it.”

I just nodded my head silently as the cat looked on, downtrodden.

“Then we have a deal.” I nodded. “Out of curiosity, did you try to fight the mutant? It doesn't have a magic signature, so how did you get away if you attacked it?”

“I didn’t. I prepared and all, but then saw the abomination. I ran before I could even attack.”

“Well, good for you.”

“So what will you do now?” asked the cat.

“I’ll try fighting the thing again.”

“Do you need help with preparing anything?”

“No—or maybe. Do you know any place near the slaughterhouse that the drunk kids won’t wander into, that has some open space, and is recognizable enough for someone to know it by name or easy directions?”

The cat thought for a second.

“Actually, there is. There’s a place near the abandoned building where it opens up to a river. There is a rocky beach called the Red Rock because waste from the slaughterhouse used to be dumped there. It’s not used, but everyone should know about it.”

I nodded happily.

After that, I called Andy, instructing him to call Peter and tell him that he would help him with the next victim. Or at least send him a message.

The kids would probably not be stupid enough to go to the party in the slaughterhouse, but I knew a target that would certainly be there.

After that, I spent the rest of the day studying the journals and books left by the mages. There were also a few old artifacts and weapons, but time hadn’t been kind to them. It would take a lot of time to identify and check all of them out. For now, I was focused on learning more about the people who made up the souls attached to Peter and the hook.

Finally, after three more hours, I got confirmation from Andy that Peter received the message. Good. It was finally time for me to attend the party.

To my surprise, on my way there, I didn’t see the ghost hunters, not yet at least. With their enthusiasm, they should have been here long before anyone else, I imagine.

Did they hide the car, or was there something else happening I was not aware of?