Law of The Web - Volume 1 Chapter 6 - The Pit II

The oppressive atmosphere of the forest shifted abruptly. One moment, Gideon was trudging through gnarled trees and uneven terrain; the next, his feet struck smooth, cold stone. He blinked, momentarily disoriented, as the dense canopy of trees vanished, replaced by towering marble walls.

The hall was massive, its ceiling stretching so high it disappeared into a haze of shadows. Black and gold marble lined the floors, reflecting flickering neon-blue light that hummed softly from arcane glyphs etched into the walls.

At the far end of the hall stood a massive reception desk, impossibly pristine and unnervingly out of place in the otherwise grandiose setting.

Behind the desk stood a man who seemed out of place yet perfectly at home in the grandeur of the hall.

His skin was clear and unnaturally smooth, and his tall, lean frame carried an air of effortless grace. Meanwhile, his jet-black hair was slicked back neatly, not a strand out of place, adding to his polished look.

He looks young—maybe about 25 or 26 if Gideon had to guess.

But what truly stood out was his attire; he wore clothes that seemed to take a modern take on Victorian fashion. His black coat hugged his frame like it was tailored by a master, its edges embroidered with faint silver patterns that shimmered softly under the light. The high collar framed his neck, and the buttons, gleaming like tiny blue jewels, reflected the same eerie glow that seemed to emanate from his piercing, half-closed blue eyes.

He wore sleek black gloves that seemed to absorb the faint glow around him, and his crisp white waistcoat was simple but elegant, adding balance to the rest of his style. Around his neck hung a small crystal pendant, swirling faintly with streaks of gold and black, the same color as the floors themselves.

Everything about him oozed refinement, but there was something unnerving beneath it all. The faint smirk on his lips felt less like a greeting and more like a warning. 

This man seemed to be the receptionist of this place, and his attention soon came towards the group.

On the other hand, Clark stopped dead in his tracks, his posture stiffening. His usual bravado was replaced with an edge of unease as his gaze locked onto the man. Gideon didn’t miss the way Clark’s fingers flexed, itching for a weapon that wasn’t there.

“Move it!”

Clark barked, masking his unease by shoving the chain line forward.

The children stumbled ahead, the chains rattling loudly in the eerie silence.

As they neared the desk, Clark bowed deeply, his movements stiff, but he managed.

Gideon noticed this and commented.

‘This guy is obviously scared.’

He said to himself; on the other hand, he looked at the man, <<I Spy>> activating; however, what he saw truly left him speechless.

‘What the hell is this monster?’

Name: Jean Bram

Cultivation Type: Orthodox

Classification: Orthodox Awaken | Blood Dancer >> 3rd Transformation

Using the power of <<I Spy>>, Gideon examined the man’s information. However, something was off—much of the usual data he relied on was missing.

All he could see was the man’s name, cultivation type, and classification.

The man, Jean, had reached the 3rd Transformation, a stage higher than Clark, who was currently at the 2nd Transformation in his cultivation journey.

Though puzzled, Gideon could infer a few things. Based on his observations, it seemed that Hunter was the first stage of a class. Both Tint Face and Horace had the Hunter classification. Despite their differences in strength, both were still stuck at the so-called 1st Transformation.

Clark, on the other hand, was clearly stronger. His 2nd Transformation status and his crow, which Gideon confirmed to be his Law Beast, should have made him vastly superior. Yet, this raised another question: if a Law Beast was truly their soul, how were these grunts, and even Clark able to summon their beasts into reality?

Something about this didn’t add up.

Adding to the confusion was Clark’s classification: Great Hunter. If classifications followed a logical hierarchy, it seemed like Great Hunter was a step above Hunter. Jean, however, was an anomaly, or maybe it was just a different class.

If so, how does this class system even work?

While he was indeed stronger than Clark by an entire transformation, his classification wasn’t related to hunting at all. Jean’s classification was Blood Dancer, and looking at him from here, everything about him exuded a dangerous aura.

What unnerved Gideon the most, though, was the lack of insight into Jean’s soul. Unlike others, he could not see Jean’s soul at all.

On that note, however, it was their conversation that troubled him.

“Mr. Bram.”

Clark said, his voice laced with forced respect.

“I’ve brought the shipment, as promised.”

Bram’s lips curled into a thin smile. It wasn’t warm; if anything, it carried an edge of amusement, like a predator toying with its prey. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a monocle, the edges trimmed with glowing silver filigree.

Placing it over his right eye, he leaned forward slightly, inspecting the line of children with unsettling intensity.

“Ah, more contributions from the Black Web gang, egh.”

Bram said smoothly, his voice deep and velvety but carrying a cold tone behind it. He tapped the edge of his monocle, and a faint hum echoed as he examined each child.

“It seems the young master’s request has spread far and wide in such a short time.

Yet…

His gaze flickered toward the children at the back of the line.

“These specimens look… substandard.”

Clark’s face twitched, a flash of irritation breaking through his cautious facade.

“Well, apologies if they aren’t up to your exacting standards.”

Clark said, his tone carefully controlled.

“But we followed the request in the letter. Fourteen are close to awakening, and the rest have potential. Some were slum rats; others are from Tista Village.”

His jaw tightened.

“We delivered what was agreed upon.”

Bram raised a brow, leaning back against the desk. His hands folded neatly in front of him, but his smile widened ever so slightly.

“And yet.”

Bram said, tilting his head.

“One must wonder why the young master is collecting such… unremarkable resources. Surely you, as a seasoned hunter, would know this isn’t just about the raw material.”

Clark’s composure faltered, just for a moment. “

“It’s not my place to ask questions.”

He muttered, though his irritation was clear.

“The more material, the better, right? You’re gearing up for something big—a Blood Cauldron Ritual, if I had to guess—you need souls of different types to offer up as a sacrifice to complete the evolution into the 5th Transformation; after all, the Black Moon Clan are practitioners of the Slaugther Route under the order of the Mother of Murder, Goddess of Slaugther, The Nighmawl Goddess: Slatera.”

Clark said to Bram as he continued.

“Not my first rodeo seeing one of those. If I were to bet, the young master is nearing a breakthrough, isn’t he? Like his father at a young age, he is about to become a Semi-God right… a legendary King of Blood.”

At these words, Bram’s smile didn’t waver, but something in his posture shifted. The air around him grew heavier, and Gideon felt it like a physical weight pressing against his chest.

“Ah, a man of experience.”

Bram murmured, his tone sharp with mockery.

“But speculation can be dangerous, Mr. Maddian. You’d do well to remember your place.”

Clark’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, his gaze fixed firmly on the ground.

Gideon’s heart raced as he absorbed the exchange. The pieces were falling into place, but the picture they formed wasn’t one he liked. The terms “Blood Cauldron Ritual” and “raw material” and “Semi-God,” along with “King of Blood,” sent a chill down his spine.

‘What the hell kind of Isekai spawn point is this?’

Gideon thought, his fists clenching involuntarily; they were no longer tied but cuffed at the wrist.

On the other hand, though, Gideon was about to have an even harder time because at that moment Bram’s glowing monocle flicked to Gideon, lingering for a fraction longer than the others.

A subtle smirk creased his perfect features, but he said nothing, returning his attention to Clark.

“Well…

Bram said, clapping his hands together, the sound echoing unnaturally in the vast hall. 

“I suppose it’s better to have too much material than too little. The young master will be pleased.”

He gestured lazily to the side, and a glowing sigil appeared in the air, its swirling lines forming a gateway.

“Take them to Holding Chamber.”

Bram instructed, his tone dismissive.

“The assessment team will handle the rest.”

Clark nodded stiffly and motioned for his men to move the line forward. Tint Face and Horace exchanged uneasy glances but obeyed without question, tugging the chain line toward the glowing sigil.

As the children shuffled past Bram’s desk, Gideon felt the man’s gaze linger on him again, a faint crease of curiosity on his otherwise composed face.

“You.”

Bram’s voice sliced through the heavy air like a blade, sharp and commanding.

Gideon’s breath hitched, his body stiffening instinctively. His mind raced, but outwardly, he kept still, forcing his fear down.

“You’re… different.”

Bram murmured, tilting his head slightly as if studying an unusual specimen. The faint smirk on his lips sent a chill down Gideon’s spine, but it was the monocle that drew his eye.

The glass lens glinted unnaturally in the dim light as Bram adjusted it over his right eye. Behind it, something flickered, symbols, words, and fragments of information, too fast for Gideon to fully process. His heart sank when he realized Bram was scrutinizing him, but lucky for Gideon, the monocle seemed to reflect parts of his very identity.

Gideon’s focus sharpened. Through the distorted, swirling reflections, he caught fleeting glimpses of details: his supposed age, 10, and his first name, Axter, the name belonging to the body he now inhabited.

Forcing himself to breathe evenly, Gideon met Bram’s gaze, doing his best to appear as inconspicuous as possible.

“What’s your name, boy?”

Bram asked, his smirk widening ever so slightly.

Gideon hesitated, his thoughts racing.

But finally he replied, steady but with a deliberate nervousness to sell his innocence.

“Axter.”

He said, letting the name settle heavily in the air.

Bram’s smirk turned into something deeper, almost predatory, as he leaned back, the faint glow of the monocle disappearing as he lowered it.

“Axter.”

He repeated, as if savoring the syllables.

“Interesting.”

Gideon’s stomach churned at his intrest.

Bram’s smile widened, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Axter.”

He repeated, the name rolling off his tongue, and the he continued by saying.

“I’ll be watching you.”

Gideon swallowed hard but said nothing, allowing himself to be dragged forward with the rest of the group.

As they stepped through the glowing sigil, the hall vanished behind them, replaced by an even darker environment.