"Some noble I am…" he muttered with a snort. He looked shattered, broken, and nothing like he was before entering this city.
But then again, it wasn't just his looks that had changed.
Everything about him had become something new and different.
He wasn't sure how to feel about the revelation, so he busied himself with cleaning his injuries. He could be retrospective about himself once he survived and lived to tell the tale.
Using only his hands was a bit of a tedious task, but he managed as well as he could.
The four jagged scratches over his left eye were the first to be cleaned, the blood leaking from it having become a bother to his sight. Next was his abdomen, where three of its four claws had been able to leave another set of serrated wounds.
On his right shoulder sat another four claw marks. Luckily, like the rest of his wounds, they were finally beginning to scab over and stop leaking blood. The last wound was far from the deadliest, only two small scratches on his right leg which had already started to partly scar.
Satisfied with his healing wounds, he finally moved onto the clothes.
Some black cargo trousers, a black top, jumper and zip up hoodie with a midnight blue overcoat, and some black boots he had been lucky to find.
It wasn't perfect, far from it. But the clothes were dark enough to help him blend in with his surroundings and had enough pockets where he could store anything useful, he might find.
Without any real armour to wear, the multiple layers would be good enough to keep him somewhat protected from any blunt force attacks and would be perfect for keeping the cold of the night away.
Happy with what he had got, and pushing his old blood-soaked clothes to the corner of the room, he felt prepared to finally leave. Picking up his longsword and turning to face the door, he couldn't help but blink in surprise.
Embedded in the door was a singular throwing knife.
'How did I miss that?' he questioned, grabbing it and pulling it out with little resistance.
Turning it in his hand, he inspected the blade.
'No rust, no chips. It practically looks brand new…who the hell would waste such a good knife on a toilet door?'
Confused, he nonetheless spun the blade and placed it securely in the sleeve of his overcoat. It was weird, but he wasn't about to let go of a spare weapon, especially one as unused as this one.
"Alright, lets do this," straightening his body, he unlocked the door and slowly began to move out. By his estimations, he didn't have long before something came sniffing around to find the source of the bloody smell.
Hopefully by then, he'd be long gone.
Unlocking the door, and opening it slightly, he let his eyes roam through the blackened room. With the toilet being at the very back of the room, it let him see the entire room with ease.
Satisfied that nothing would pounce and tear his throat out, he began to move. His steps were light, and the ever-present shroud of darkness moved with him, ready to envelope his body the instant he stopped.
Repeating the process with the door leading to the main floor, he once more peaked through the opening he had created.
A grimace instantly marred his face at what he saw.
'I knew it…'
Skulking through the shop, an abomination, the likes of which he hadn't encountered before, was loudly sniffing at the ground and making its way towards him.
He had been too slow.
'Shit.'
It stood on four muscled limbs, each foot ending in sharp claws. Even hunched over, he could tell that it reached to his chest in size, and had the muscles required to topple him with ease.
On its back were several ridges of sharpened bone that extended to its tail and its neck, before splitting on its head and curving into two demonic horns. Its snout was long, and filled with razor fangs, whilst its two eyes burned with a familiar crimson fire.
His mind already passed the point of exhaustion was beginning to hurt. Ideas came and went as swiftly as lightning, each being less useful than the last.
'Surprising it from the ceiling for a decisive strike?' Impossible. With its bone armour covering its back, neck and head, his blade would sooner chip than do any damage.
'Hiding from it and trying to sneak away?' Not likely, the moment he moved his shroud would disappear and expose him. That wasn't even mentioning the fact that he was running low on energy.
At most he had six jumps left in him, maybe ten if he truly pushed himself.
By then the abomination would have already caught his scent and begun tracking him. All it would have to do was catch him when he was resting and he'd be dead.
'Appear below it and stab it?' That…wasn't a bad idea, if he could time-
Something was wrong. Something was very terribly wrong.
It was subtle, almost impossible to notice. But…why was he sweating? This entire time, the room had been nothing but cold, it had left him shivering at one point, so why was he suddenly feeling so warm? No, warm would be an understatement.
He felt like he was in an oven.
'Don't tell me…'
The abomination was no longer moving. It had stopped, just outside of the room and seemed to be waiting for something. He could see it through the door, its tail flicking casually behind it.
The only reason it hadn't noticed him was because he was standing still, an instinct he had only recently developed after he had ascended. The shroud was protecting him from its senses.
But still, why was it just sitting there?
The realisation hit him harder than a truck.
'Oh, this is bad. It's a fucking Deviant.'
The countless lessons he had endured about the Ascension System when growing up came to mind at that moment. It was a sort of ranking that categorized both the Ascended and the Fallen Spawn to determine their strength.
Each Ascended had a Grade attached to their name, a Grade which would increase in number whenever they took their next step in the process of ascension and unlocked another Soul Core in their body.
Similarly, this Grade, or Rank for the Fallen Spawn, would also increase whenever they took another step down the ladder of corruption.
For example, Artorias was a Grade 1 because he had only just unlocked his first Soul Core. It was why he had such a limiting ability when it came to moving through shadows.
Many people labelled the first Soul Core stage as The Purging. It was akin to the process of natural selection, revealing to the world which spear would break, and which would remain.
It was as unfair as the world around them.
But the benefits of surviving were more often than not worth it.
Upon unlocking their second Soul Core, an Ascended' first ability would receive a direct upgrade, all but evolving into a stronger version of its former self. Whilst their first Soul Core, would strengthening and becoming equal in power to the second. This would also, in turn, grant the Ascended another ability.
This process would repeat itself several more times, until the Ascended reached the pinnacle of ascension, Grade 7.
In comparison, the ladder of corruption was slightly more convoluted.
They all started at the Rank of Horror and though the 'how' of their twisted ascension was still largely unknown, the premise was similar enough. The major difference was that Fallen Spawn had the choice between two different paths.
One based entirely on instinct, and one based on intelligence.
Those who focused on instinct reached a natural limit to their power at the Rank of Ghoul. With no special abilities or intelligence, they instead relied on brutal physical strength, speed and endurance.
For reference, The Rank of Ghoul was equal to a Grade 5 Ascended on the Ascension System.
On the other hand, abominations who instead focused on developing and growing their intelligence were far more feared.
At the Rank of Monster, they would begin gaining sentience, no longer being guided by their instincts and instead being capable of forming thoughts. They were the equivalent of a Grade 3 Ascended on the System.
The Corvus Spawn he had fought earlier that day had been at the Rank of Monster when he had killed it.
The step after that was the Rank of Deviant. The Rank which he knew the hell hound outside had reached. With intelligence to rival that of humans, the subtle development of their own abilities, and powerful unique bodies.
They were ranked as equals to Grade 6 Ascended.
That was why his body was now subtly shaking from fear. That was why he desperately hoped to think of a way out of this situation.
If he saw the Corvus Spawn as death incarnate…
…Then what in Hades was this hell hound?