Asher and the others followed Catherine, who now walked with renewed confidence. He had granted her the freedom to leave the confines of the Bloodcrown estate whenever she pleased, and she wasted no time in using her authority. With a simple wave of her hand, she transported them all to the Dwell of the Damned.
The group found themselves standing before a structure that looked nothing like they had expected.
"This really does look like a well," Asher muttered, his sharp eyes studying the round, brick-lined structure.
The well emanated an ominous aura, an oppressive darkness that seemed to swallow the light around it. Asher stepped closer and peered inside. What greeted him was a void of pitch-black darkness, seemingly endless. Black, clawed hands reached out from within, their movements erratic and desperate.
The hands scratched and clawed at something invisible within the depths of the well, as though trying to tear through an unseen barrier. Yet, no matter how fiercely they struggled, they couldn't break free. Their claws left faint trails on the surface of the barrier, but it remained intact, mocking their futile efforts.
"It's like they're trying to escape," Freya said softly, her voice filled with unease as she stepped closer to the well, careful not to cross its threshold.
"They are," Catherine confirmed, her expression grim. "Those hands belong to the spawn of the Weaver. They are trapped here, unable to break free, thanks to Tence's influence."
The little girl clung tightly to Asher's side, her wide eyes fixed on the well. "They're bad. Really bad," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
Asher placed a hand on her head, his expression softening for a moment. "Don't worry. They won't hurt you."
He turned back to Catherine. "This barrier—can it be broken?"
Catherine hesitated before nodding. "It can, but only by someone with power equal to or greater than the realm's core—or if Tence herself were to weaken."
Freya's gaze flicked to the well, then to Tence. "But why leave this place intact? Why not destroy them completely?"
Catherine shook her head. "Destroying them isn't that simple. These creatures are fragments of the Weaver's essence. Killing them here would only send their energy back to him, making him know our position. The well is a prison, not a battlefield."
Asher's gaze lingered on the clawing hands. "Prison or not, this is a good place to start. If we can fight them without breaking the barrier, we'll be able to train without making the Weaver stronger."
Catherine nodded reluctantly. "Yes, but you'll need to be careful. If you push too hard, you might weaken the barrier—and then…"
She trailed off, but the implications were clear.
Asher stepped closer to the well, the black hands clawing wildly as if sensing his presence. His cold expression didn't waver. "Good. Then let's see what these creatures are capable of."
Catherine glanced at him, her concern evident. "Don't underestimate them, Asher. The spawn of the Weaver may be trapped, but they are still lethal."
Asher smirked faintly, his confidence unwavering. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
He extended his right hand toward the well, and a strange, dark substance began to flow out of his palm. The liquid seemed alive, swirling and pulsing as it hovered just above his skin. It was a deep, greyish-black color, almost like oil, but with a sinister, otherworldly quality.
Freya instinctively jumped back, her eyes wide with alarm. Catherine, however, stood her ground, though her expression betrayed a flicker of concern.
"What is that?" Freya asked, her voice tinged with both curiosity and unease.
"It's Ancient Soul-Corrupting Essence," Asher replied, his tone calm but edged with a dangerous authority. "It's a fusion of soul corruption oil and the essence of an ancient beast. This substance can obliterate souls entirely—destroying them so completely that even the Weaver won't be able to recover or sense their existence."
Freya's breath caught in her throat. "That's… terrifying."
"And if there's any residual energy left behind," Asher continued, raising his left hand, "I'll deal with that too."
A swirling black vortex appeared in the palm of his left hand, its surface rippling like a living abyss. It radiated an aura so intense that even Catherine stiffened slightly.
"I'll absorb it with my assimilation ability," Asher explained, his voice steady but cold. "I'll make the dark energy my own and strengthen myself in the process."
Catherine studied him closely, her unease growing. "Your power…" she murmured. "It's unlike anything I've seen before."
Her tone was a mix of awe and caution as she added, "If this were our old world, your abilities could easily rank as Alpha—one of the highest levels of power."
Asher glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "Alpha?" he repeated, prompting her to explain.
"In our world, power is ranked based on tiers," Catherine elaborated. "The highest rank is Alpha, reserved for leaders, monarchs, or paragons of power. Beneath that are the other ranks, descending through tiers of strength and authority."
Asher nodded thoughtfully. "Interesting," he said. "But your ranking system doesn't matter anymore. In this realm, strength is absolute—and rankings are irrelevant."
Catherine couldn't argue with that. The world they once knew was gone, and in the Void, survival was dictated by raw power.
Turning his attention back to the well, Asher stepped closer, the dark hands clawing wildly in response to his presence. The sinister energy in the air seemed to thrum with anticipation.
"Let's see how much I can gain from this," he said, his voice laced with quiet determination as he prepared to unleash his terrifying abilities on the trapped creatures below.
Asher walked calmly to the edge of the well, his gaze fixed on the writhing darkness below. Without a moment's hesitation, he stepped forward and dove in, his body cutting through the air as though he were plunging into water.
"This fucking idiot!" Freya shouted, her voice laced with panic. She instinctively extended her hand, a tendril of vines shooting out to try and catch him before he disappeared into the abyss.
But before her tendrils could reach him, Catherine placed a firm hand on her shoulder, stopping her.
"Wait," Catherine said calmly, pointing toward the depths of the well.
Freya followed her gesture and gasped. Asher's body was surrounded by a shimmering, greyish-black aura that looked like liquid blood. The aura coiled and solidified around him, forming an arrow-shaped cocoon that seemed designed to pierce through the oppressive barrier at the well's depths.
The tendrils of darkness within the well recoiled as if sensing the force of his descent. The arrow-shaped cocoon drove through the resistance effortlessly, cutting through the formless black like a spear through water.
Freya's mouth opened in astonishment. "What… what kind of power is that?"
Catherine's eyes narrowed as she watched. "It's his Ancient Soul-Corrupting Essence," she said. "It's not just a weapon—it's a shield, armor, and tool of absolute destruction. Even the Weaver's spawn fear it."
Freya hesitated, still uneasy. "But he just jumped in there like it was nothing. What if something goes wrong?"
Catherine gave a small, shrug. " How would I know it, you came with him."
Freya shrugged too as she also haven't seen him using such abilities, she know of Magnus family how their rumoured Black Assimilation can assimilate things in their own blood ability and add extra effects to it but it is only limited to little things not as powerful as Soul Corruption Essence, she has hears of it, if is an powerful poison found in some realm creatures and only powerful ability users or high level Alchemy can solve this poison but according to Asher it is even powerful then even the soul corruption oil.
'So, how can he assimilate such things? ' he murmured to herself looking at Catherine and then looked back at well.
Freya looked down at the well again, watching as the last remnants of Asher's cocooned form disappeared into the darkness. The tendrils inside the well lashed out wildly, but none dared approach too closely to where Asher had entered.
"Big Brother will be fine?" Tence asked softly, her wide eyes fixed on the ominous darkness of the well, where the light seemed to vanish entirely.
"He will be," Freya replied with as much confidence as she could muster, though her voice betrayed a hint of worry.
Catherine, standing beside her, shook her head subtly. She could sense Freya's hidden concern, but her own perspective was far different. Unlike Freya, Catherine didn't feel a shred of worry for Asher.
She had already stretched her senses into the depths of the well and observed the carnage within. It was nothing short of a wolf entering a den of sheep—if the sheep were monstrous creatures born of darkness, and the wolf was a being like Asher.
"He's bored," Catherine muttered under her breath, earning a curious glance from Freya.
"Bored?" Freya asked, puzzled.
Catherine nodded, folding her arms as she kept her gaze on the well. "The creatures down there, the ones we used to fear—the ones that brought my world to the brink of destruction—they're nothing to him. They can't even make him break a sweat." Update from Novel~Fire. (n)et
Freya's eyes widened. "But… they're supposed to be equal to his level, aren't they?"
"They are," Catherine confirmed, her tone calm but edged with a hint of bitterness. "But rank doesn't mean everything. In my world, it took five of our people to face a single creature of their own level. Even then, we weren't guaranteed victory. Asher… he's wiping them out as though they're beneath him."