Hands of the Abyss

Hrozka appeared without a sound, bow already drawn. The arrow resting on the string glowed like a wave of scattered fireflies, as if it carried some unknown sorcery within it. Behind that majestic figure, the hospital patients had gathered. What they timidly raised were makeshift weapons—frying pans from the cafeteria, wooden planks, anything they could grab.

Ulukabo frowned. Not from the pain of the arrow. It was displeasure. Inconvenience. He clearly did not enjoy having an audience.

“This wasn’t in the plan.”

Same here.

Ever since he’d been kidnapped by those heavenly bastards, Nathan had been nothing but a spectacle. He shed bloody tears in his heart. Being caught in bed with someone was rarely pleasant. And if Benny woke up and learned about this, what in the world was he supposed to tell her?

The abyss sorcerer, who had been grimacing, suddenly broke into a wide grin. His emotional swings made him look like the one who needed treatment most in this entire building.

“However, one who has accumulated a debt with me has come seeking me on his own two feet. Devaire. Do you desire this?”

Hrozka’s eyes widened as he roared.

“Everyone downstairs! This isn’t an opponent you can overwhelm with numbers!”

The patients had steeled themselves and come up after hearing the director Benny was in danger, only to be told to go back down. They hesitated, unsure of the situation inside the room, but the next moment they screamed and leaped over the railing.

“Wh-what the hell—!”

“Run! Get outside—!”

Jet-black arms suddenly burst from the walls. In an instant the scene turned into a demonic cavern. Benny’s cozy room had transformed into a haunted house from a nightmare. Black hands with multiple elbows crawled out like spider legs, reaching desperately to seize the fleeing patients.

The archer tried to pierce the intruder’s head at once. But the grabbing arms ruined his aim. Hrozka hurled his bow aside, grit his teeth, and drew a dagger, slicing through several of the limbs.

That was not the only trick Ulukabo possessed. The elf abyss sorcerer’s form was twisting. His limbs stretched like molten glass fresh from the furnace. Bones snapped and reattached in a horrifying metamorphosis. Did it not even hurt? The elf laughed with his eyes rolled back, muttering ceaselessly.

The abyss sorcerer, grown at terrifying speed, now had to bend his knees and bow his waist to keep his head from hitting the ceiling.

[Ever gazing down from a place higher than the sky.]

The ceiling has to be at least three meters high.

A nightmarish scene unfolding without warning. It was different from mind-training magic or primitive shamanism. This was the insidious power only an abyss sorcerer could display.

Nathan, lying on the bed and looking up, clenched his jaw. He was still struggling against the force crushing him. Perhaps because the creature had revealed its true nature, he could now see the dark arms binding him. Dozens of powerful hands protruding from the bed sheets, pressing down on his veins and wrapping his joints. Fortunately he had not been anesthetized. His body had not gone stiff—it was being physically constricted. There were simply so many that he had not realized he was being choked.

Hands. Nathan had found his clue. If they had remained invisible he would never have known, but now that he could see them, there was a way.

“Reflect on your own sins first, you black bastard sneaking into a girl’s room!”

Someone strode boldly through the room overgrown with ghost-like arms. It was the alligator doctor, Tuzetey. His nearly one-ton frame tore the grabbing fingers away simply by walking. It was a feat none of the other hospital staff could imitate.

“Not leaving?”

The weapon he raised as if ready to swing was a traditional Lizardian club studded with dense teeth. But to Nathan the stance looked terribly awkward. His hands were shaking violently and the balance was all wrong.

Ulukabo’s sharp eye did not miss it either.

[It is clearly an artifact from your homeland, yet it is not one you once used.]

The floor shuddered like an earthquake as even larger hands burst forth, seizing the doctor’s arm and yanking it downward. Tuzetey, startled, tried to swing but was pulled off balance with a groan.

[I sense it. Your loss. Your guilt. Jungle healer. What is the heart-sickness you cannot cure? Where is the mate you abandoned and fled from, Tuzetey?]

Strange. He had never given his name.

The Lizardian’s eyes trembled in terror. Caught by the black arms, he gradually sank to his knees. Ulukabo approached, satisfied, and reached out to grasp the Lizardian’s face directly….

“Which son of a bitch comes to a hospital and picks a fight with the doctor?”

If there was one thing Nathan Maia hated more than anything, it was watching bastards he disliked do whatever they pleased. He could endure an abusive father. Hundreds of orcs. A life forged in battle. Even being humiliatingly rejected by the idol he had loved for years with the words, I’m not that serious about you. But some disgusting piece of shit gloating right in front of him?

“Did you think I’d allow that?”

A hand seized the abyss sorcerer’s thin wrists. Thanks to the dying lights, the radiance clinging to those two hands stood out vividly. Among the hundreds, thousands of hands filling the room, it was the only pair of fists that shone brightly. Nathan Maia, standing protectively in front of Tuzetey, bared his teeth.

“If the teacher collapses, are you going to take over for him, you bastard? Come play with me instead—someone who won’t be missed even if I’m gone.”

Ulukabo glanced back at the bed. The hands of vengeful spirits protruding randomly from the pillow, sheets, and beneath the bed. They should have been holding Nathan down. Instead every last one lay broken, fingers snapped, twitching on the floor.

“How?”

When it came to breaking the human body, few knew it as well as Nathan. A knight was that kind of existence by nature.

“Like this, you bitch.”

Nathan poured all his fury into his two hands and squeezed. A sickening crunch as joints and bones dislocated. Smoke rose from the contact point of the miracle hands as if scorched by fire. He yanked his weight backward while still gripping, and Ulukabo staggered like a scarecrow. Even his massive size was useless. The off-balance abyss sorcerer screamed in agony and fell to his knees. He tried to shake free but could not.

It was not a protest but pure curiosity. Even now, remaining faithful to his purpose was revolting. The corner of Nathan’s mouth twisted.

“Grip strength.”

From downstairs came sudden screams. It was not Ulukabo’s doing. A sight as terrifying as the abyss sorcerer, yet one the hospital family knew well. If it disturbed Benny’s mood, it would appear. It hurled patients into the air and caught them, bit their collars and dragged them through the drains for half a day, or hung them from the eaves…. But for most of the patients, seeing Sweetie this insanely furious was an unfamiliar spectacle.

“Kiiiiieeee—!”

A roar like scraping metal or a shrill death cry. Sweetie, who had charged in at full speed, stepped on the alligator doctor’s shoulder and leaped. Dozens of fangs sank into Ulukabo’s neck. Flesh tore to shreds and flew.

Nathan finally understood completely. Why the patients—who had lived lives as rough as their injuries—were so well-behaved. Why this hospital was safe from gangsters. It was simply because the hospital was stronger than any gangster.

As Ulukabo’s body reeled backward violently, Nathan released his wrists. Then he wrapped his arms around the torso and shoved with all his strength toward the wide window behind the creature.

Crash. The metal window frame crumpled, glass shards pouring noisily into the street. Yet the bizarre limbs sprouting from Ulukabo possessed monstrous power. Even with ruined wrists, he hooked both legs on the railing to hold on.

Nathan, still pushing, recoiled in horror at the hand that burst from the creature’s chest.

The monster protruding from Ulukabo’s chest. No—the former owner of the floating arena. The bloody mass that had burst through his belly grabbed Nathan’s neck and dragged him closer.

A man who in life had seemed too weak even to take long walks. Yet now his strength was monstrous. Like a drowning corpse.

Shock and confusion. Nathan, unable to shake him off easily, nearly fell out the window with him.

Thud. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Drip.

In the black blood pouring down the skin, Kada Sakano suddenly stiffened with a wet choke. His bulging eyelids went slack. Probably because of the metal blade that had pierced his forehead.

…Get… me… out…

“Fuck. Did I just mishear that? Wasn’t that the voice of our old boss?”

Kilika’s terrified voice, followed by Hodrick’s scolding growl.

“Ow, I know! That’s not what matters! Hodrick—dagger!”

The Niko twins, having driven a chain scythe through Ulukabo’s back, pulled with all their strength. In that moment Nathan tore free of Kada Sakano’s arm. The wrist, poorly formed and fragile as a twig, tore away. Kada’s body convulsed violently.

Freed, Nathan kicked that plump face with everything he had. Hoping this would be the end of their cursed connection.

Crack. Along with Sakano’s incompletely formed neck bones, the section of Ulukabo’s spine that had been holding him snapped. The abyss sorcerer tumbled outside with a deflating groan, sliding like a water strider across wet pavement.

Done.

Of course, falling from only the second floor would not be enough to kill him. So the Niko twins released the chain scythe and raised their decapitating blades.

“Yaaaaah—! Uh, what the…?”

But only Sweetie had fallen. The monster that crashed head-first onto the asphalt let out a puppy-like yelp. After groaning and rubbing its head with its hind legs for a moment, Sweetie realized something and scrambled upright.

Ulukabo was gone. Only a faint, ominous mist drifted into the darkness of the night.

“What the hell, where did that ghost disappear to!”

Kilika looked around, spitting curses. His attempt to hide his fear was obvious. Nathan, peering out the window, was also seized by bewilderment. Below, he saw only the twins standing guard and Sweetie sniffing the ground like a tracking hound.

“…Just what.”

“It really is just what. Just what kind of lightning bolt was that? Nothing like this has ever happened in the hospital before.”

Hrozka, supporting the lizard doctor whose legs had given out, paused as he tried to rise. Benny’s blanket was wriggling and moving.

Perhaps. No way.

“Get out. Quickly.”

Hrozka, who had been carefully drawing his dagger, flinched at Benny’s mumbled voice and tried to turn toward the door. He tripped over the staggering Tuzetey and fell with a crash.

At the loud thud, the voice under the blanket grew even more troubled.

“I need to put some clothes on. We’ll talk later.”

----------

A short while later, in the dining hall.

The hospital staff and a few patients who knew how to fight sat gathered. Yet no one could easily speak. What had just happened was shocking enough, but Benny’s aura was anything but ordinary.

Around the time Nathan had noticed the intruder, Benny had been calmly sending out a rescue message from beneath the blanket, tablet brightness turned to its lowest. In other words, she had seen and heard the entire situation with vivid clarity.

The patients kept their mouths tightly shut and watched the mood. One wrong word now and their perfectly healthy arms might be replaced with prosthetics.

“This is… insane… I’m definitely going to catch that bastard myself…”

Her face was redder than a carrot. Benny kept spitting out a few words only to clamp her mouth shut again. She seemed so angry and dumbfounded that her voice had seized up. It was understandable.

Nathan remembered the patients who had filled the corridor beyond the door. Her vision must have gone dark. She had put on clothes now, but the shock seemed severe; she had even pulled out a blanket and wrapped herself in it.

Hrozka spoke gravely.

“Just to be clear, Venessa. No—Hospital Director.”

“Shut your trap.”

“I absolutely did not want to come up to your room. The others felt the same. You said a madman had broken in and asked us to bring weapons, so we came. We never intended to ruin your romantic… um… whatever it was…”

“Mouth. Please, I know, you old man. Thank you. I’m hugely grateful and very touched! But right now I’m embarrassed, so don’t talk to me for five minutes.”

She did not seem calm enough yet to express proper gratitude.

Nathan, who had been glancing at Benny like the patients, suddenly realized something and flinched.

Wait. Old man?

Yes, there was something that needed to be clarified. Hrozka’s identity. The abyss sorcerer had called him son of the great forest. Benny, an Eleim a little over two hundred years old, had called him old man.

“Talk with me too, not just Benny. Hrozka, what exactly are you?”

The archer, who had been watching the director’s mood, brightened the moment he had somewhere else to direct attention.

“Ah, you must have heard it too. Earlier I said with my own mouth, ‘Do you dare speak the name Migilpyure?’ You know what Migilpyure is, don’t you, knight of the Federation?”

The forbidden forest. Migilpyure. Of course he had heard of it. The Lion Wing Knights were the Federation’s firefighters; they traveled to every region to extinguish urgent blazes. Therefore Nathan had hammered the Federation’s map into his brain exactly as it was.

It came back to him. Migilpyure. A mysterious fir forest in the northwest of the Federation. The annotation attached to the Lion Wing map read as follows.

The realization hit him. No wonder the man’s ears were unusually keen and his archery skills extraordinary.

But his ears are round.

While staring suspiciously at the curve of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Hrozka’s ear, Nathan nearly covered his mouth. Small scars dotted the earlobe. He had assumed they were eczema or scars gained while serving as a soldier accustomed to large bows. No. They were traces of severing. A dizzying mark left by a blade slicing the ear clean away.

“How embarrassing to be stared at so intently. Compared to what you suffered before, this is nothing. You’re not going to attach prosthetics to your earlobes, are you?”

Nathan immediately looked away. Then he carefully bowed his head.

“It is an honor to meet a long-lived descendant of the forest here.”

“Ah, yes. I too am infinitely pleased to meet you, knight of the Federation. You were spitting informal speech so naturally until now and suddenly switched to honorifics—it’s really quite awkward.”

“…”

The counterattack was devastating. Had he been quietly keeping track of the casual speech?

“I’m ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sorry.”

“Aigo, please speak comfortably. What use is age between people far from their hometown in a foreign land? Teacher. Since we were both kidnapped and dragged here, let’s speak comfortably.”

“…Then I will.”

“It’s nice that we communicate so well. Allow me to introduce myself again, Federation man. I am called Hrozka. Following the customs of the forest, I have no surname.”

Nathan grumbled at the mocking attitude, and Hrozka’s smile only widened.

“An elf who lived not in this stale heaven, but in a far more livable, fairy-tale-like forest. An ‘Elkei.’”

Nathan let out a sigh before he could stop himself.

“Elke… Elgay… what?”

“Elkei.”

“Honestly it’s confusing. There’s no end to the new words I have to learn. Can I just call you forest elf?”

“Do as you like. That’s what it means anyway.”

----------

“My surname is Ingri. Since this is our first meeting, I would prefer you address me by it.”

The blue-faced giant spoke and then burst into booming laughter, as if he himself thought it an excellent joke. Of course it was a joke. There was no one in heaven who did not know this man’s surname. And those in the north with the courage to call him Mister Ingri had likely all died by his hand and been buried beneath the ice river long ago.

The public’s assessment was correct. Magnificent like a mountain echo, yet eerie as a winter wind.

Somewhere dozens of kilometers from the hospital. Before a giant throne, Ulukabo knelt and bowed his head.

“This lowly life greets the Winter King. May glory be upon the ice glacier of the firm sky even where the sun reaches.”

“I deliberately filled the surroundings with ignorant ones because I hate hearing the sound of writing. Now outsiders come and gild their own tongues.”

He pretended to dislike it, but the flattery must have pleased him. The corners of his mouth twitched within his root-like beard.

“Enough. What is your main point?”

“The reason this lowly servant requested an audience with Your Majesty is none other than this. I am a shaman of insufficient talent, yet I once served one of Your Majesty’s sons with what little ability I possess and divined good and ill fortune.”

The command to cut the preface seemed sincere. The giant tilted his head above Ulukabo. Killing intent. Enormous killing intent. An impatient, child-like attitude. The pressure of a raft encountering a massive iceberg. The combination produced an indescribable terror.

The world was unfair. To grant such blessing to such a childish creature.

Ulukabo, having lost the body granted by the abyss deity, shrank his stump-like severed limbs. The side gouged by the scythe throbbed madly from muscle tension. If he dragged out even one more sentence, his neck would fly. Yet thinking of what he stood to gain, it was a risk worth taking.

Nathan Maia. That man was worth it.

A short meeting. Even though the cursed palm had not touched him, Ulukabo had already sensed the outline of something enormous. There was something inside that boy. Something truly terrifying. Perhaps an existence so great it could not even be compared to the Winter King before his eyes.

So that day—the day he had been defeated by insignificant creatures and fell beneath the window—Ulukabo, having escaped by turning into a blood mist, had immediately headed for the northern region of heaven. He did not know who had brought the boy to heaven, but it had turned out to be a tremendous favor. The spirit that could feed multiple gods and still remain—he had to obtain the being dwelling within that lowly sapiens by any means necessary.

“Your Majesty.”

The limb-lost Ulukabo needed others to move on his behalf. And this heaven, overflowing with boredom and vice, would gladly move like his own limbs, just as it always had.

“I have come today to speak of Mornid’s death.”

“That is truly interesting.”

Like a child receiving a gift on the celestial festival, the Winter King’s smile broadened into a huge grin.

“Continue.”