Axehand and Horace stepped over a pile of newly created corpses and went on their way.

  "I’m worried," Horace said. "If everyone is facing undead at these quantities, they might struggle a bit."

  Axehand grunted in agreement. He shared the same worry—would Master make it? However, at the next moment, his eye-flames flared crimson. If Jerry wanted to be his Master, he had to be capable of at least this much.

  The two of them had been traveling for a while now, crossing corridor after corridor as they ventured deeper into the maze. Undead came at them in hordes, but that was no problem; the duo quickly took care of everything.

  A new bellow shook the corridor, much louder than ever before.

  "Hmm," Horace muttered. "We must be getting close."

  Axehand grunted in excitement.

  Suddenly, as if agitated by the roar, a black tentacle shot out of a large crack in the wall. It wrapped around Axehand’s arm before a second tentacle quickly flew out as well, wrapping around his torso. Axehand looked on curiously.

  "Oh, a tentacle monster." Horace nodded, crossing his arms. "Can you let it eat you, please?"

  The tentacles went taut, struggling to pull Axehand into the wall. He just stood there, watching with disinterest. A grunt later, he pulled back.

  The tentacle monster was ripped off its crack and into the corridor, where the force of Axehand’s pull smashed it into the opposite wall and killed it on the spot. It wasn’t anything to write home about; a slug-like, pitch-black thing half the size of a person, with four tentacles growing out of its underbelly and a slick hole for a mouth. Its back was covered in broken suckers, blood, and stone, as Axehand had just ripped it off the wall.

  "These creatures are disgusting," Horace said, frowning. "At least they’re weak."

  Axehand grunted in agreement. They stepped past the slug, careful not to touch it, and went on their way. They had a monster to hunt.

  Time passed. The bellows grew louder and more frequent. The tunnels were empty. The sound of stomps echoed through the walls, and rough breathing came from behind the corner.

  "Hoho," Horace said with a predator’s smile. "We got it."

  Axehand grunted in excitement, grinding his axes against each other. Reaching for his waist, he grabbed the steel flask and took a big gulp of wine.

  A nightmare rounded the corner.

  It was a creature towering over them, its horns almost scratching the ten-foot-tall ceiling. It had the head of a bull and the body of a hairy man, but the taut musculature which bulged through its skin spoke of tremendous strength. Its waist was thick, and yet, there was little fat to be found, as most of its mass was made of muscle. Only a dirty loincloth covered its privates.

  In its hands, the minotaur held a large battleaxe taller and heavier than most grown men, and steam escaped its nostrils as a pair of red eyes stared them down.

  "That’s intimidating." Horace nodded in approval. "Look, Axehand; it has an axe. Maybe you’re cousins."

  Axehand grunted as he stepped forth, his competitive spirit rising. The minotaur did have an axe; he would show it who the superior lumberjack was.

  The jacked-up, nine-foot-tall behemoth released a tremendous bellow as it charged. Its hooves stomped against the floor, its battleaxe screaming through the air. Axehand jumped to meet it, and axe met axe in a collision that shook the maze.

  Axehand’s momentum was halted, but so was the minotaur’s. The two seemed evenly matched.

  "Heh." Horace chuckled. "Can’t you even handle one lousy monstrosity?"

  Axehand glared over his shoulder, then charged the minotaur again. The two exchanged a flurry of blows, and the minotaur’s eyes went from rage to shock as it realized this tiny enemy could match it. With another bellow, it went berserk, hacking and slashing without care for its safety.

  Axehand weaved through the blows, easily outmaneuvering the heavy weapon. The ground and walls were cleaved repeatedly, large gashes appearing in the stone, but Axehand was safe as he dived into his opponent’s guard. The tip of his right axe met the flat of the greataxe’s blade, altering its trajectory as Axehand unleashed a left uppercut on the beast, drawing a thick line through its belly.

  Black blood flowed out, but the minotaur remained standing, and it seemed even madder than before. It was incensed; as the Guardian of this maze, it was supposed to maul intruders, not the opposite! They were supposed to run and scream!

  It roared in pain and fury, ready to fight to the death.

  Axehand grunted in satisfaction. This fight was fun—he didn’t want it to finish quickly.

  Suddenly, whistling sounds reached his ears as two arrows cut through the air, embedding themselves in both eyes of the minotaur. Axehand turned to glare at Horace; and the massive beast, with a final, soulless bellow, collapsed to the floor, shaking it by sheer weight.

  "What?" Horace said. "You were clearly winning. We don’t have time to waste on small fries."

  Axehand released another annoyed grunt as he swung an axe through the air, shaking off the black blood. He pointed ahead.

  "Yes, let’s go. We should be getting close." Horace nodded, and the two left yet another corpse behind them as they searched for their companions.

  ***

  Jerry’s and Akolateronim’s souls clashed in a display of mental fireworks. Beside them, the hell hound followed Akolateronim’s commands and attacked Jerry. Boboar and Foxy turned to face it. Two battles erupted at the same time, but Jerry could only see one.

  The world faded away as only he and Akolateronim remained.

  Jerry had fought like this before. He’d once challenged Maccain, a Herald of the Wizard Order, only to be obliterated. Akolateronim wasn’t nearly as strong, fortunately—Jerry could fight.

  Two streams of soul energy left their bodies and crashed into each other like raging rivers. They flowed around and into each other, aiming at weak spots to prove their supremacy. The sight resembled two armies fighting, while Jerry and Akolateronim were the generals.

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  Jerry’s soul was free and wild, slipping out of Akolateronim’s grasp to attack wherever it wanted. Akolateronim’s soul was orderly and disciplined, striking hard and accurately but in predictable, rigid patterns.

  The two souls wrestled in mid-air, invoking colorful fireworks visible to the naked eye. They were evenly matched in raw power; Akolateronim’s efficiency was met with Jerry’s unpredictability and superior raw power, and the two were embroiled in a battle whose victor was unclear.

  Jerry was excited. This kind of battle was like an art, holding unfathomable depths that he couldn’t wait to explore. Right now, he was like a fumbling infant, but a fumbling infant with a strong soul that got progressively better!

  He was enjoying himself. Fighting like this demanded the entirety of his concentration, making everything else fall out of scope. He was the battle, and boiling blood ran down his veins as ecstasy took him over. His soul unleashed its full power, and the difference was palpable.

  I’m this strong!? Jerry wondered, watching how his soul coiled around Akolateronim’s like a dragon. He was performing at his very peak and kept surprising himself with his speed, reflexes, and mental resilience.

  I’m a necromancer! he thought proudly.

  However, soul battles weren’t merely throwing one’s soul into the fray until somebody won. A person’s soul was the core of their being, their most intimate shelter. As the two souls waged war, they unavoidably touched each other. Thoughts and feelings were transmitted, violently invading Jerry’s psyche.

  He felt arrogance, anger, and haughtiness. He felt a sense of suffocating, repulsive order. He felt fear and hatred at being forced to fight, and he felt how Akolateronim blamed Jerry for all this.

  However, Jerry’s thoughts flowed into Akolateronim’s soul as well, and the Watcher recoiled as Jerry’s carefree attitude violated its understanding of the world.

  You are absurd! it screamed into Jerry’s soul. Travesty, humiliation, abomination. DIE!

  No, I don’t think I will, Jerry replied, pushing harder. His understanding of soul battle increased by the moment. So did Akolateronim’s, in fact, but Jerry was faster to learn. His soul gained the upper hand as the Watcher stumbled, and the scales of battle tilted. No! Akolateronim raved, but it was already failing, and defeat would come inevitably.

  But Akolateronim had other means as well.

  Suddenly, its soul opened up completely, forfeiting the battle, and Jerry was sucked in. To defeat Akolateronim, he just had to keep pushing…but would it be that easy? As he invaded his opponent’s soul, his world was devoured by illusions.

  He saw himself atop a tall cliff, watching the dry rock beneath. Akolateronim flowed beside him. "What do you think?" it said, a mouth appearing below its eye. "Do you have the courage to advance? Maybe you should stop here."

  Jerry knew he had to jump if he wanted to reach Akolateronim’s soul, but he was afraid. Jumping from a cliff… Who would do that?

  "Courage? Of course I have it," he replied, and then he jumped.

  The air whistled in his ears, and his hair flew. As he reached the ground, Jerry thought, whoops —and the scenery changed.

  Jerry now sat at a table filled with delicacies, the smell sweet enough to make his stomach growl. Akolateronim sat opposite him.

  "You can have all these. Just let me go," it pleaded.

  "No."

  Why would Jerry want this food? Marcus was an excellent cook, anyway.

  He swiped all plates off the table and the illusion shattered, replaced by a natural warm spring. Jerry was in there, buck-naked and surrounded by stunning women. Their eyes were large and sincere, and their smiles were filled with love. Akolateronim was floating beside him, a folded white towel placed on its head.

  "This is nice…" it said with a sigh.

  "Are you an idiot?" Jerry said, laughing. "I don’t need women or food."

  "I don’t understand! What do you need, then?"

  "Soft chairs, maybe. And shoes. And a world where everyone is happy."

  Akolateronim laughed like a human. "Consider it done!"

  Jerry suddenly found himself on a chair whose softness eclipsed anything he’d ever experienced. Euphoria spread from his buttocks to his entire body, and looking down, Jerry saw a pair of red moccasins.

  "Woah, those are nice!" he said, wiggling his toes. "You must be very smart. Nobody else took me seriously."

  Floating in a chair opposite him, Akolateronim smiled. "Of course I am."

  Jerry smiled back, then spread his arms and tore the illusion apart. Suddenly, he was back in the maze, and Akolateronim’s eye was widened to the extreme as Jerry’s soul had wrapped around its own.

  We became friends! it shouted in his mind. I even had a towel on my head—that was funny! You can’t kill me!

  Jerry smiled. "I’m a good guy," he said. Akolateronim was filled with joy, but Jerry’s next words sank him into the depths of despair. "But I’m not an idiot."

  No! I did everything right! This is unfair! NO!

  A mad scream was the last thing to escape Akolateronim’s soul before it was sliced to bits; an advanced application of Jerry’s Soul Severing.

  The floating eye collapsed to the ground and Jerry wiped his hands, looking around. "Well," he said, "that was fun. Good job, guys."

  Boboar and Foxy gazed at their Master, standing over the traitorous hell hound’s body. Jerry approached it.

  "You weren’t a good boy, after all…" He sighed, shaking his head. "It’s okay. Thank you for everything so far, Doggo. When I find a proper dog in the future, I will name it after you. Sleep well."

  He then rose to inspect the room. "We won, but where are we?"

  Boboar oinked.

  "That’s right, big guy. Doggo did not lead us to the exit. Let’s try to find it ourselves, shall we?"

  Boboar oinked again, while Foxy yipped.

  Jerry turned around to leave…and paused.

  "Wait a moment," he said. He paced to the library, squinting at the various titles. "Atlas… Bestiary… History… Art of War… Wow, so much useless stuff. Oh, here it is!"

  He excitedly pulled a book off the shelf, gazing at it with wonder. Boboar and Foxy looked over curiously.

  "Look, guys!" Jerry pushed the book at their noses as if they could read. "This book is called Introduction to Necromancy! It’s exactly what I needed!"

  The two skeletal animals didn’t understand, but if Jerry was happy, they were happy too. Therefore, with whistling on his lips and a new book under his armpit, Jerry set back to wandering. The exit had to be nearby.