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

The oppressive and creepy aura of the forest pressed against me, its gnarled trees clawing at the edges of my vision as I trudged over uneven ground.

Then, without warning, my feet hit smooth, cold, and hard.

‘What is this?!’

I wondered.

Looking down I saw it was tile, decipher allowed for me to see through objects. So the rope over my eyes did nothing to stop me from seeing.

And the world shifted.

Still as I walked the distortion where still evident, but as the group walked even more, everything started to stabilize.

I blinked, disoriented, as the dense canopy above vanished, replaced by towering stone walls that stretched into darker haze of this new building.

I stood in a massive hall, its ceiling so high it seemed to dissolve into darkness.

The floor, a slick expanse of black and gold marble.

And at the far end loomed a pristine reception desk, jarringly out of place in this grandiose setting. Behind it stood a man who seemed both alien and perfectly at home.

His skin was unnaturally smooth, his tall, lean frame carrying an effortless grace. Jet-black hair, slicked back without a single strand astray, framed a face that looked young…maybe 25 or 26, if I had to guess.

But his clothes stole my attention: a modern twist on Victorian fashion, with a tailored black coat embroidered with faint silver patterns that shimmered in the eerie light.

The high collar framed his neck, and buttons like tiny blue jewels that gleamed, mirroring the glow of his piercing, half-closed blue eyes.

He wore a pair of sleek black gloves, and a crisp white waistcoat which balanced the elegance of his look.

A crystal pendant hung around his neck, swirling with streaks of gold and black, matching the marble floor. Everything about him screamed nobility, but beneath it lurked something unsettling. His faint smirk felt less like a welcome and more like a warning.

I noticed Clark, my captor, freeze in his tracks, his usual bravado replaced by a stiff unease as he locked eyes with the man.

His fingers twitched, itching for his weapon on instinct.

“Move it!”

Clark barked, shoving the chain line forward to mask his nerves. The children ahead of me stumbled, their chains rattling in the eerie silence.

As we neared the desk, Clark bowed stiffly, his movements forced. I couldn’t help but think, This guy is obviously scared of this much smaller and leaner man.

In my curiosity I looked at him using Decipher. As I focused on the man behind the desk. What I saw left me speechless.

‘What the hell is this monster?’

Name: Jean Bram

Cultivation Type: Orthodox

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

The data was incomplete, none of the usual details I relied on appeared. Just his name, cultivation type, and classification. Jean was at the 3rd Transformation, a stage above Clark’s 2nd Transformation. I pieced together what I could.

Hunter seemed to be the first stage of a class like theorized before.

Tint Face and Horace, both Hunters, were stuck at the 1st Transformation. Clark, a Great Hunter with his crow Law Beast, was stronger, but Jean? His Blood Dancer classification didn’t fit the pattern…it was clear to Nier that it was another class of some sort.

But either way, I know trouble when I see it, but it was different if you could feel it.

He exuded an aura of danger, and worse, I couldn’t see his soul at all using Decipher.

But I didn’t stare for long as Clark’s voice broke my thoughts.

“Mr. Bram.”

He said, his tone dripping with forced respect.

“I’ve brought yet another shipment, as promised.”

Bram’s lips curled into a thin, predatory smile. He pulled a monocle from his pocket, its silver filigree glowing faintly, and placed it over his right eye. Leaning forward, he inspected the line of children with unsettling intensity.

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

He said, his voice deep, but cold. He tapped the monocle, and a faint hum echoed from it as he scanned each child.

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

He continued, his gaze flickering to the back of the line.

“Alas though, these specimens look… substandard, compare to some I have seen today. I am really looking forward to see how those maggots develop under our care.”

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

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

He said, his voice tightly 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 clenched.

“We delivered what was agreed upon.”

Bram raised a brow, leaning back against the desk, hands folded neatly.

“And yet.”

He 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 slipped for a moment.

“It’s not my place to ask questions.”

He muttered, his irritation 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 Slaughter Route under the Mother of Murder, Goddess of Slaughter, The Nightmawl Goddess: Slatera.”

He paused for a second then added.

“It is 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… a legendary King of Blood.”

Bram’s smile didn’t waver, but the air grew heavier, pressing against my chest.

“Ah, a man of experience.”

He murmured, his tone sharp with mockery.

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

Clark’s jaw tightened, but he stayed silent, staring at the ground. My heart raced as I pieced together the terms, Blood Cauldron Ritual, raw material, Semi-God, King of Blood. What kind of Isekai spawn point is this? My fists clenched, though the cuffs at my wrists bit into my skin.

Then Bram’s glowing monocle flicked to me, lingering longer than it had on the others. A subtle smirk creased his face. My breath hitched, but I forced myself to stay still, swallowing my fear.

“You.”

Bram said, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

“You’re… different from the rest of these maggots, still a bigger maggot I guess.”

My mind raced as he tilted his head, studying me like a specimen. The monocle glinted, flashing symbols and fragments of information too fast to read. My heart sank as I realized he was seeing parts of my identity.

My supposed age, 10, and my name, Axter, the one tied to this body I now inhabited.

I could see all that in language I have never seen or studied yet from his monocle I manage to read what was reflected.

It would seem that thing is like my Decipher, but exactly how information is he seeing really.

I wondered to myself, but shortly after Bram, looked at me and asked.

“What is your name, boy?”

Bram asked, his smirk widening.

I hesitated, thoughts spiraling, but finally I answered, injecting deliberate nervousness to seem innocent.

“Axter”

I said, letting the name hang in the air.

“Axter.”

Bram repeated.

“Interesting.”

His smile deepened, like that of a predator, and his eyes didn’t reach my eyes. Still he made his warning clear.

“I’ll be watching you.”

My stomach churned as I swallowed hard, saying nothing as I was dragged forward with the group. Bram clapped his hands, the sound echoing unnaturally.

“I suppose it is better to have too much material than too little.”

He said dismissively.

“Still the young master will be pleased.”

He gestured, and a glowing sigil appeared, its swirling lines forming a gateway.

“Take them to Holding Chamber. The assessor will handle the rest.”

Clark nodded stiffly, and Tint Face and Horace tugged the chain line toward the sigil. As we shuffled past Bram’s desk, I felt his gaze linger on me again, a faint crease of curiosity on his face. When we stepped through the sigil, the hall vanished, replaced by an even darker environment.

‘Where the hell are we now!?’