ABH - CH 29: To Have a Need Met

A/N: HAHAHHAHA now we're 6 chapters ahead of RR. Goal is to get 8 more up before launch, then get to 21 total by June 1st.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

To Have A Need Met

Rise of Winter, Week 5, Day 4

A shiver went up Freddie’s spine, a breeze brushed her nose, and the whirr of a machine clicked in her ears. 

Freezing, Freddie held her breath. 

Don’t look, don’t look, don’t—ah, crap. Freddie looked.

What she saw was darkness. The edges of the room she found herself in were pitch black. What had once looked like normal stone was now shadows. So many shadows. 

[Fire Conjuration]

Shooting out a beam of flames, Freddie tried to reach the end of the darkness. To illuminate the gloom. Instead, the fire bounced right back and hit her leg. 

“Ow, oh my—” Cursing under her breath, Freddie pulled the flame away with [Fire Manipulation]. It didn’t stop the heat on her knee from sinking into her bones and leaving a bubbling burn wound. 

[Regenerate]

As the warmth in her mana veins shifted to her knee and her skin wrapped around the bubbles, she hopped forward on her good leg. 

Soon I’ll have as many scars on this body as I had on my old one.

Reaching out with the fire lining her palm, Freddie followed the wall. She could still hear the clinking of metal and the rough sound of something moving. But nothing was attacking her. Nothing was trying to kill her. Not yet. And she knew to be vigilant about it. 

[Inspect]

[REDACTED]

[REDACTED]

[Crafted by: REDACTED]

As Freddie read the notice, she furrowed her brow. Redacted?

Before the thought fully formed, though, she received another notice. 

[User’s Divinity exceeds threshold of [REDACTED]—]

[User’s Divinity exceeds threshold of Dungeon M283. Access granted.]

Blinking, she read the final notices. 

[Magical Darkness, Tier 1, Rare]

[A darkness made of mana.]

[Crafted by: Dungeon M283]

“Why—” Freddie snapped her mouth shut as she realized she was talking to herself. Out loud. When there was an enemy she could not see. 

Stupid, Fred. You can’t afford to be stupid. 

As the same whirring sound from before started, Freddie felt another breeze brush her arm. Then, when she went rip her arm out of the spot it was in, something struck her in the face. 

With a yelp, she jolted backward. Bringing her free hand up to her face, she felt the bruise that was sure to form around her cheekbone. Her ears were ringing as she pulled her hand away. Peering down at her empty palm, where there could have been blood but wasn’t, Freddie’s heart rate picked up. 

Whipped her head back up, she glared at the darkness. 

“Oh, screw this!” She yelled into the nothingness she knew held a monster. Then, she extinguished her flame and ran into the dark. 

As she sank into the cool mana of the magical darkness, her eyesight left her. All around her was nothingness. So much nothingness. Heart pounding, she continued running through the dark. 

She only got a few more feet before her outstretched arm hit stone. Feeling around, she could feel two edges—one curved to her left and the other went right before curving away from her. 

Right. Always right. 

Following the wall, she slipped further into the darkness. But just because she could not see, that did not mean she couldn’t hear. And so she stilled her breath, letting her other senses close. She did not need to taste, she could not see, all there was to touch was the cold stone, all there was to smell was the scent of—sewage.

“Goblin,” Freddie hissed, right as a gurgling sound came from before her. 

Dropping and swinging out her leg, Freddie made contact with a lump in the dark that made a low growl in a language Freddie was sure was nonsense. She wasn’t inclined to let it say another word. 

Reaching out, Freddie aimed her fist for where the sound had come from. As wind whipped around her closed palm, a crunch resounded—but no gurgling. And Freddie had to bite back a howl of pain as something tore into her knuckles. 

Thus, she pulled her arm back and promptly threw another punch. 

Crunch. 

Crunch. 

Not growls or gargles. 

She didn’t let that stop her though, and she simply switched to her other arm. This time, she met open air.

Rearing back, she took a deep breath, trying to stifle the pang in her lungs. 

Sewage, look for sewage and sound. 

Sharpening her mind, she thought of her family. How if she died in this dumb dungeon her parents would be devastated. She thought of how the triplets would be forced to mourn her—and then forget her as they aged up. How her legacy would end, just like that. She thought of it all. 

And then she heard the slight breath of a goblin, several feet away and a little to the left than it had been before. Lunging, she reached for the monster with her palms wide open. Her fingers met flesh and she dug her nails into the beasts muscles. 

[Imbue Flame]

Magma seeped from her mana veins from her elbows to her fingertips, sinking into Freddie’s flesh and bones. A wicked grin spread across her face. 

[Fire Conjuration]

Her arms heated up with flames she knew were there, but she could not see. Under her fingers, flesh melted and sludged, bubbling from the intensity of her fire. She sank into the goblin, even as it screamed inches from her. Freddie felt something wet land on her face, but she was too busy thinking about what the dungeon represented. 

How anything less than her best meant her demise was all but assured. 

Every step, every fight, every punch. It all had to be perfect. 

Because every misstep would add up, it would become more and more deadly. For now, all Freddie had to do was lunge and hit and light a flame. But soon, she would come across those more powerful than her. She would be forced to push herself beyond her limits—limits that were contained within a child’s body and a Tier 1 Class. 

This goblin was not a danger in the light, but the dungeon had made sure that there was no light. It took away a person's advantage, but not their strength. Not their adaptability or capability. Even dungeons had limits. 

And Freddie was determined to test them—no, to obliterate them. To surpass what ‘Dungeon M283’ decided to throw at her, again and again, until Freddie was exhausted. Until she was a shadow of her former self. She would descend the dungeon, floor by floor, until the descent was marked in the only way that mattered: in flames. 

For every hour that passed, Freddie would grow stronger. She would overcome. And never would she fall—of that she promised herself. 

As the goblin's screams stopped, the body under Freddie’s palms sagged and burst into a miasma of mana. At once, the darkness around her subsided and gave way to the bright white light of her flames. She let the fire leave her skin and circle her shoulders.

As she looked around, she found most of the room she was in had been revealed. Freddie found herself before a hallway, and in the rest of the room there were two more offshoots. Breathing heavy, Freddie stood—swiping the yellow and black Mana Pearl from where it laid upon the ground and slipping it into her satchel with all the others. Then, once again, she pushed the System notification away—the Combat Report wanted to give her experience. 

She’d take it on her terms or not at all. 

Freddie shook out her arms, letting the ache spread before it disappeared entirely. Stepping down the hallway, Freddie readied her flames and her fists. Taking a guarded stance, she inched forward. One step, two, ten, nothing came around the corner at the end of the hall. Before she turned fully, she took a deep breath. 

Pivoting on her front foot, she prepared herself for the oncoming attack as she rounded the corner. Prepared herself for the impact of a weapon on her skin. Braced herself for impact. 

Only, such a thing never came. 

Instead, before Freddie was a simple wooden chest. Barely a foot tall and equally as wide, it was just—sitting there. 

She kicked it, lightly, just enough to push it back against the wall. 

It didn’t move. 

[Inspect]

[Wooden Chest, Tier 1, Common]

[A chest built to store items. Made of Yllwood.]

[Crafted by: Dungeon M283]

With a sigh, Freddie dropped her stance and squatted down to look at the box. It was simple, no fancy craftsmanship, but it was sturdy. 

She flipped it open to reveal a necklace, it’s blue chain wrapped around the amber stone at its center in flourishing swoops that mimicked the floral design etched onto the stone as well. Underneath the necklace was a yellow silk pillow that filled the box up. 

Freddie grabbed that as fast as she could. 

“No tent, but a pillow,” she said, her voice low. “Better than the cold, hard ground by miles.”

[Inspect]

[Arach Silk Pillow, Tier 1, Uncommon]

[A pillow made up of the silk of an Arach, dyed with the petals of a Sterilbee flower. Stuffed with Arach fur.]

[Crafted by: Dungeon M283]

“Yes! No curses, no weird enchantments, just—just a pillow!” Freddie cried quietly before looking back into the box and grabbing the necklace. She shoved both items into her satchel, humming as the light of her flames reflected off the necklace. 

She looked at the wooden box on the ground for a long moment before picking it up. “You’re cool too, I guess.”

Freddie carried the box on her hip as she went back to the main room. In her gut, she felt she’d barely used any real firepower in that fight. It had been all physical. 

“Oh.” She huffed, then stretched out her free hand. There was blood seeping out of her knuckles, slow but steady. Freddie frowned. The bleeding would stop on its own soon, or she could speed it up with [Regenerate].

Freddie knew the path of least resistance, but that path bored her. Made her feel less alive. 

So she left her knuckles as is and placed the wooden box at the side of the room—in between the next two offshoots. Both halls had wide entryways, nearly five feet. She could easily get through either. But only one had that same magical darkness. 

Freddie hated that darkness. 

It took from her something she valued: her eminence. Her ability to dominate. And that was unacceptable.

That darkness needed to disappear. To seep back into the dungeon it came from. So long as it was away from Freddie. 

Cracking her knuckles—then promptly hissing at the sting that caused— Freddie approached the far hall. Her flames circled her. 

[Imbue Flame]

With that, they circled her fists—like gloves of white hot pain waiting for their prey. 

Once she was at the opening, Freddie stepped to the right side of the hall and stepped forward. As she sank into the darkness, all that guided her was the cold stone of the wall and the heat lining her skin. 

After several seconds, the wall curved left, and she followed carefully, listening. This time, when she heard a whirr, when she felt a breeze cross her nose, she didn’t bother to wait. Didn’t stop and wonder what it was. Instead, she simply charged forward.

Letting go of the wall was, perhaps, not her brightest idea. But Freddie hardly cared. Her fist slammed into something hard with a crunch. It was the first fight all over again.

Every time she landed a punch, there was no give of flesh or crack of bone—well, other than Freddie’s bones. And perhaps, to Freddie, that was the most egregious act. That she was the one being hurt by her own attack. 

Still, she did not relent. She continued her onslaught of fiery fists until she was sure both her fists were a bloody mess. She continued until the wall she hit gave way. 

She continued until she overshot, pitched herself forward, and landed pressed up against a blade, the edge digging into her throat.