System of the Beast Slayer [litrpg Adventure]
Copyright© 2025 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 24
“Who’s hidden in the barrels?”
Roy rubbed the cool wood of the cask, clearly itching to pry it open and look. Confusion knotted his brow.
“Stashing corpses in a cellar is like planting a time bomb,” Letho said after a long pause. “For a man of Severin Hogg’s standing, if he wanted someone to vanish completely, he would not resort to such clumsy methods.”
He fell quiet a moment more, thinking. “Still, the bodies in those barrels could be tied to the nightmares that plague Severin, or they could be something else entirely—a secret he would move mountains to keep buried.”
“Shall we open one and see?” Roy clenched his fists. His curiosity was a live wire.
“Acting on our own will anger Severin. Even Axii cannot scrub every memory from him and his retainers. For a two-hundred Crown contract, that would be reckless.”
“Control your curiosity. We’ll pretend we never saw the cellar,” Letho ordered. “Later I’ll probe Severin in another way. You’ll do exactly as I say.”
... After they left the cellar, Letho went back to the third-floor master chamber and put Severin again under a gentle Axii, so the Dwarf would hide the key and sleep. Roy had now seen Axii’s power several times; he was openly impressed. If a target had no mental defenses, one caught them unawares would likely fall under the sign.
“Axii is more versatile than the other Signs; it’s handy. A household travel skill, useful for bargaining and for disposing of trouble,” Roy murmured, half to himself.
Severin woke with no memory of what had passed. The fatigue on his face had noticeably lifted; he looked pleasantly rested. He glanced at the clock. “I slept an hour? I have not slept that well in ages,” he said, eyes bright as copper, punching the air with his fist in relief. “There must be a Witcher about; that filthy thing that hassled me dared not show itself.”
“Then you feel you may have hope?” Letho asked, impassive.
Severin nodded eagerly. Letho’s tone stayed even. “That thing is cunning and deep-rooted. I need you to tell us everything about your nightmares.”
The Dwarf’s face went chalk-white. The easygoing swagger drained out of him. He hesitated, then stammered, “My nightmares—They are horrible, strange, I cannot describe them.”
“If you will not be open, Witchers cannot help you,” Letho said.
Severin’s mouth tightened. “I—I cannot talk about it. Hunting monsters has nothing to do with my dreams.”
Letho tossed Roy a look. Roy took the cue and slipped into the story he’d prepared. “It does, Mr. Hogg. Have you ever heard of a thing called a Hym?”
Severin shook his head, puzzled.
Roy leaned in and painted the picture with growing intensity. “A Hym is born of celestial conjunctions. It has no body of its own; it must parasitize a living host.”
“Inside a human?” The Dwarf’s knuckles went white around his mug.
“It chooses carefully. Usually it latches onto those who have done wrong, or animals, feeding off fear, guilt, regret. Then it constructs nightmares from the host’s real memories, stokes those negative emotions, and wears away the victim’s reason.”
Severin’s lips trembled; even his thick beard shivered. “Gods. An invisible devil. How could I have drawn such a thing?”
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