I Siphon the Dead to Become the Strongest

The damp tunnel echoed with violence and… cheerful humming.

“HYAH!”

Lindis let out a spirited grunt as she leaped, her axe a blur of iron and condensed earth-energy. One unlucky goblin—a Common Forest Stinker, but let’s be honest, they’re all just goblins—ceased to be a single entity. It became two separate, slightly greener entities that slumped to the ground.

Two more, emboldened by stupidity or perhaps a shared, single brain cell, tried to flank her. They wielded chipped stone swords they’d probably spent weeks fashioning. The swords scratched pathetically against her leather-clad arms.

They didn’t even leave a mark. Stone Skin held firm.

Lindis glanced at the goblins hacking at her forearms, then gave them a sunny, almost apologetic smile. “Aw, you tried.”

Then she moved. It wasn’t a fancy technique this time, just raw, centrifugal force. She spun, using the flat hammer-side of her axe like a baseball bat. 

THWACK. THWACK. THWACK.

It was like a grotesque carnival game. Goblin faces met axe-head with a series of wet, dull crunches. They didn’t so much fly as they were launched in a spreading fan of green misery.

One sailed across the tunnel and slammed back-first into a large pipe with a metallic GONG, sliding down into a limp heap.

Another met the unforgiving concrete wall face-first. The impact was… graphic. Let’s just say its posture became dramatically more horizontal. I averted my eyes. Dear God, I hope I didn’t just see a nose get relocated to the back of a skull.

The third goblin was sent spiraling directly toward me, a shrieking, flailing projectile of panic and pointy ears.

Instinct took over. I jumped, my Slightly Above Average Vertical Jump proving its worth as I met it mid-air. I extended my baton, the shhh-click echoing sharply. Its ugly, snarling face filled my vision.

I didn’t have a cool skill. I didn’t have swirling energy. I just had a metal stick and a lot of frustration.

THWACK-THWACK-CRACK!

Three quick, brutally efficient strikes to the temple, jaw, and finally the top of its skull. It stopped squealing and went limp as I landed, its body hitting the damp ground with a wet thud.

I let out a long, theatrical “Phew,” partly for effect, partly because I was genuinely winded from the sheer absurdity of it all.

Lindis landed gracefully a few feet away, barely breathing hard. She beamed at me. “See? Not so bad, right?” She gestured with her axe toward a darker, slimier tunnel branching off to the left. “I think there are more this way! We’ll be lucky if we stumble on a Rare E-Rank goblin or maybe a special slime variant!”

She giggled, a sound of pure, unfiltered glee, and bounded forward, her boots splashing through the muck.

I forced a smile that felt like it was made of plastic. “Yeah. Lucky.” I fell in step behind her, letting my real work begin.

As she turned her back, I subtly crouched by the goblin I’d just batted out of the sky. I placed a hand on its cooling forehead, pretending to check for a pulse. My fingertips tingled with the familiar, cold pull.

[Soul-Essence Siphon: Active]

Target: Common Forest Stinker (Deceased)

Harvesting ‘Halved’ Soul-Data…

Skill detected: [Shin-Kicker’s Surety]

Integration boosted… 81%... 82%... 83%...

The process was quick, silent, and invisible. A tiny, icy thread of the creature’s primal essence—its cowardice, its low cunning, its knack for finding the softest spots to strike—flowed into the hollow space where my real power resided.

I stood up, wiping my hand on my pants, and hurried to catch up to Lindis, my other hand behind my back as if hiding nothing at all.

She was hunting for glory and improvement. I was conducting a grim, secret recycling program.

We made a truly bizarre team.

I saw the goblin lunge, its chipped stone sword making a sad whistling noise as it swung in a wide, telegraphed arc. Easy. I started to crouch low, ready to flow under it like a weary river of sarcasm.

I never got the chance.

There was a sudden, crushing weight on my lower back. A heavy, boot-shaped planet decided my spine was its new homeland.

“OOF—GHUH?!”

It was a sound of pure, shocked betrayal. All the air left my lungs in a single, pained grunt. My face slammed into the wet stone floor, my nose smooshing against a particularly slimy patch. In my blurred, spinning vision, I saw the soles of Lindis’s boots—she was standing on me!—push off with explosive force.

She used my prostrate body as a goddamn springboard.

She launched forward, a comet of cheerful violence. The goblin, confused by my sudden transformation into furniture, didn’t have time to react. Lindis’s boot met its face in a textbook flying kick that snapped its head back with a sickening CRUNCH.

She landed, pivoted, and before the goblin’s body had even finished its descent, she brought the flat of her axe down in a brutal hammer blow.

SMACK-THWUMP.

The goblin ceased to be a three-dimensional creature. It became a two-dimensional art project on the tunnel floor. The force of the impact sent a shockwave through the puddles, splattering several nearby slimes into harmless, quivering goo-puddles.

Silence, save for the drip of water and the ringing in my ears.

Lindis straightened up, brushed a strand of hair from her face, and turned to me, a look of dawning horror replacing her battle-focus. I was still lying there, tasting the floor.

“Oh! Ethan! Are you… okay?” she asked, her voice small. She hurried over and extended a hand, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

I rolled onto my back, wincing. I stared up at the mossy ceiling, then at her offered hand. “Am I okay?” I mused, my voice flat. “Let’s see. After leaving your… author’s mark… I think I’d like to call it the ‘Lindis Footprint’… I believe I have a new, unique spinal curvature. So, yeah. I’m okay. My chiropractor will be thrilled.”

Lindis blinked, then a snort escaped her. Then another. Before long, she was laughing, a bright, relieved sound that echoed in the tunnel. “I’m so sorry! I saw an opening and I just… leaped!”

Trying to salvage the moment, she grinned, adopting a mock-sage tone. “You know, in some ancient cultures, being stepped on by a lady warrior was considered… good luck for a man. A blessing of strength!”

I looked at her, then down at the goblin she’d pancaked into the floor with my spine as her launchpad. Its face was… well, let’s just say it was no longer capable of expression.

I nodded slowly, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Ah, yes. The ancient proverb. ‘May your path be crossed by a maiden’s boot, so that you may know both humility and a mild compression fracture.’ Very wise. I feel incredibly blessed. And slightly concave.”

Lindis’s laughter redoubled, and despite the throbbing in my back, I couldn’t help the corners of my own mouth twitching upward. The sheer, unhinged absurdity of the situation was cutting through the pain.

“Come on, Lucky,” she said, clapping me on the shoulder (gently this time). “Your year of good fortune starts now! Let’s go find that rare goblin!”

---

Author’s Thought:

Well. This chapter wrote itself, frankly. The moment the image of Ethan being used as a tactical springboard popped into my head, I knew we were in for a ride. There’s something so beautifully chaotic about their dynamic—here’s Lindis, a pure, battle-happy sunbeam, and Ethan, a secret soul-hoarder with the patience of a saint and the luck of a black cat. He’s out here conducting grim, metaphysical recycling, and she’s out here using his spine as a trampoline. It’s the perfect, dysfunctional partnership.

Also, for the record: The ”Blessing of Strength” line was 100% something Lindis would make up on the spot to cover her tracks. She absolutely googled ”weird warrior culture facts” once and is now weaponizing them.

As always, thank you for reading! More sewer shenanigans (and hopefully fewer spinal compressions) to come.

Stay safe, and maybe check who’s standing behind you before you jump.