Abyssal Sovereign: Throne of the Null

Chapter 7: Queen's Extraction

"Rise for me."

Tarn knelt beside the corpse of the Slag Shell Matriarch, his right palm facing the cracked obsidian shell. Pitch-black blood still dripped from the monster's neck, pooling on the pulsing resin floor. Behind him, Null stood with its greatsword raised, its red eyes sweeping the room with caution.

"Extract," Tarn ordered, his voice low and sharp.

The shadow beneath the Matriarch's corpse began to spin. Thin black vapor seeped from the cracks in its shell, struggling against the physical world, but this time, the process was different. The vapor did not form a shape right away. It swirled wildly, like a snake trying to break free from a trap, refusing to solidify.

[Warning: The target's soul resists the extraction process.] [The soul power of a Rank-E Elite exceeds the Player's standard capacity.] [Do you wish to force the extraction? Warning: Failure will result in permanent damage to the Player's mana pathways.]

Tarn did not hesitate. "Force it."

The black vapor screamed.

Not a scream heard by the ears. It was a scream that echoed directly inside Tarn's skull, piercing his brain like a hot needle. He felt the Matriarch's rage—an ancient fury, an insatiable hunting instinct, a hunger that could never be satisfied by the flesh of any prey. The monster did not want to die. The monster did not want to become a slave.

"You are already dead," Tarn hissed, his teeth clenching against the pain shooting through his skull. "You belong to me now."

He pressed his palm harder against the Matriarch's shell, forcing his mana to pour into the corpse. The violet aura on his skin burned brighter, flashing with sparks dancing across the obsidian surface.

[Forced extraction initiated.] [Estimated time: 12 minutes.] [Warning: This process requires 30% of the Player's total mana capacity to maintain permanently.]

Tarn almost choked. "Thirty percent? For ONE shadow?"

[Confirmation: A Rank-E Elite shadow requires a significant mana load. If the Player lacks enough mana to sustain the shadow, it will automatically vanish within 24 hours.]

"Damn it," Tarn muttered. "Fine. I'll pay the price."

The first minute passed in pure torture.

Tarn felt every memory of the Matriarch—not as images, but as physical sensations. He felt a burning hunger in his stomach, even though he had not eaten. He felt the instinct to hunt, to kill, to spawn hundreds of eggs that would become the next generation. He felt the rage when its nest was invaded, the panic when Shard flew down its throat, and finally—darkness. Death.

"Stop," Tarn hissed, cold sweat dripping from his forehead. "Stop showing me—"

He could not stop. The extraction process had started, and he had to endure it until it finished. If he released his concentration now, his mana would leak out wastefully, and he would lose 30% of his mana capacity forever.

The third minute. Tarn felt the Matriarch's shell begin to melt beneath his palm—not from acid, but from his mana forcing the physical matter to dissolve into pure shadow. The black vapor began to solidify, forming a blurry skeleton of something huge, something heavy.

The fifth minute. Null moved restlessly behind him. The shadow Warden stared at Tarn with its glowing red eyes, as if asking if he was alright. Tarn did not look back. He could not divert his attention even for a fraction of a second.

The seventh minute. Tarn felt something different—not the Matriarch's memories, but something deeper, more ancient. He felt the origin of the monster. He saw an ancient forest where the Matriarch first hatched, saw a much larger parent, saw the black blood flowing through generations of giant beetles for thousands of years. This was not just a dungeon monster. This was a descendant of something much older, something that once ruled the dark before humans even learned to make fire.

"You... are not just a Rank-E," Tarn whispered, his breathing heavy. "You... are more than that."

[Warning: Player approaching mana capacity limit. 28%... 29%...]

Tarn gritted his teeth. He could feel his mana draining, pulled out of his body like blood sucked by a leech. His arms trembled. His vision began to blur at the edges. But he did not lift his palm from the Matriarch's shell.

The ninth minute. The black vapor finally began to form a clear shape—no longer a blurry skeleton, but the solid form of a horse-sized giant beetle, with an obsidian shell that absorbed light and mandibles dripping with green acid. Pale purple eyes lit up on its head, just like the eyes of Null and Shard.

The eleventh minute. Tarn felt the final seconds of resistance from the Matriarch's soul. The monster tried one last attack—not physical, but mental. It tried to possess Tarn, trying to take over his body from the inside. Tarn felt the Matriarch's consciousness try to enter his mind, trying to find an opening, trying to find a weakness.

"No," Tarn hissed, his eyes glowing violet. "You belong to me."

তিনি mana-nya lebih dalam, lebih keras, memaksa jiwa Induk untuk tunduk. Dan akhirnya—pada menit kedua belas—perlawanan itu berhenti.

The black vapor solidified completely.

In front of Tarn stood the exact same creature he had just killed—but this time, made of translucent dark smoke, with pale purple eyes burning with an intelligence the living monster never had. The horse-sized obsidian beetle bowed its head, its acid-dripping mandibles opening and closing in a slow rhythm.

[Shadow extraction successful.] [Please assign a name to your third soldier.]

Tarn slumped into a sitting position, his breathing ragged. His whole body felt empty, as if 30% of his soul had just been pulled out. He stared at his hands—his fingers trembled, his skin was pale, but he was still alive.

"Terak," Tarn said, his voice raspy. "Your name is Terak."

The shadow beetle emitted a low hiss, acknowledging its name, before dissolving into Tarn's shadow, joining Null and Shard deep within his silhouette.

[Current Shadow Capacity: 3/7] [Total mana load: 45% of the Player's maximum capacity.] [Warning: Player only has 55% mana remaining for combat use.]

Tarn cursed under his breath. "Forty-five percent just to sustain them? How am I supposed to fight if I'm already half-dead before I even start?"

He rose slowly, his legs shaking. He stared at the Matriarch's corpse which had now completely dissolved into shadow—no physical remains were left, only a black stain on the resin floor.

"At least I have three soldiers now," Tarn muttered, trying to comfort himself. "Null as the vanguard, Shard as the scout, and Terak as a... what? Tank? Long-range damage dealer?"

He looked at Terak, who had just emerged from his shadow, standing beside Null with acid-dripping mandibles. The monster waited for orders, its purple eyes burning with cold loyalty.

"Terak," Tarn called out, testing his voice. "Can you... spit that acid? At the wall?"

Terak turned toward the nearest resin wall, then opened its jaws. A blast of thick green acid shot out, striking the wall with an ear-splitting, hissing sound. The resin melted instantly, dripping onto the floor like wax thrown into a furnace.

"Good," Tarn muttered, a faint smirk appearing on his face. "You'll be useful."

He looked around the nest. The dungeon was clean—the Matriarch was dead, the swarm was slaughtered, there were no more threats. He should be able to leave now, looking for the exit portal that surely appeared after the boss died.

Yet something bothered him.

The warning from Chapter 6 was still blinking in the corner of his vision.

[Warning: Anomaly detected. External entity is scanning this dungeon.]

Tarn narrowed his eyes. He had destroyed the crack in Chapter 6—he saw the woman disappear behind the shards of pale blue light. But the system was still detecting an external scan. That meant there was another source.

"Null," Tarn called out, his voice low. "Find the source of that scan. Check every corner of the nest."

The shadow Warden nodded, then began walking around the room, its greatsword raised ready to strike if needed. Shard darted out from Tarn's shadow, flying low along the wall, its purple eyes sweeping every crevice.

Tarn stood in the center of the nest, waiting. He could feel his drained mana—55% remaining, and he had to conserve it if he wanted to get out of this dungeon safely.

Three minutes later, Shard returned, letting out a low warning hiss. The shadow beetle flew to the furthest corner of the nest, where the resin wall met the ceiling. There, among the pointed stalactites, was something that shouldn't be there.

Tarn walked to that corner, his eyes narrowing.

On the resin wall was a crack. Not an ordinary crack—the crack glowed faintly, flashing with a pale blue light that was barely visible. This wasn't the same crack he had destroyed in Chapter 6. This was a SECOND crack—smaller, thinner, almost invisible unless you knew what you were looking for.

"So there are two of them," Tarn muttered, his tone cold. "That woman wasn't alone."

He brought his face close to the crack, trying to see through the thin gap. This time, he didn't see a narrow alley or street lamps. He saw a room—a small room with metal walls, lit by a blue holographic screen displaying the dungeon map and Tarn's mana signature.

And in the center of that room stood the woman from Chapter 6.

Yet this time, she wasn't alone.

Behind her stood an elderly man in Hunter Association black robes, his hair white as snow, his eyes sharp as an eagle. The man held a thick folder in his hand—a folder with a black leather cover, and on top of it, written in gold ink:

"TARN - STATUS: ACTIVE"

The man stared straight at the crack—at Tarn—and smiled faintly.

"So you really are still alive, kid," the man said, his voice sounding faint through the crack, like a whisper from another world. "How interesting. Rank-E necromancy... I haven't seen an ability like that in a long time."

The woman behind him bowed her head. "Commander, should we—"

"No," the man cut in, his eyes never leaving Tarn. "Let him walk out of the dungeon. Let him think he's safe. We'll watch him from afar. I want to see how far he can grow before we... catch him."

Tarn froze.

The man knew. The man knew Tarn was alive, knew he had necromancy abilities, and—most terrifyingly—the man DID NOT FEEL THREATENED. He felt intrigued. Like a scientist observing a lab rat.

"Who are you?" Tarn hissed, his voice low and dangerous.

The man only smiled wider. "Me? I'm the one who gets to decide if you're worth keeping alive, kid. Enjoy your dungeon. We'll meet again."

The crack began to close, the pale blue light fading, the man's face disappearing into the dark.

Tarn punched the resin wall with all his remaining strength. The wall cracked, but the dimensional crack inside it was already sealed shut, impossible to open again.

"Damn it," Tarn hissed, his breathing heavy. "Damn, damn, damn."

He turned around, looking at Null, Shard, and Terak standing faithfully behind him. Three shadow soldiers. 45% mana drained. And now, someone from the Hunter Association was watching him—someone with the authority to "catch him."

"We need to get out of here," Tarn muttered, his voice loud and sharp. "Now."

He walked toward the edge of the nest, looking for the exit portal. But before he could step any further, the system chimed—not a normal notification, but a blinking red warning appearing in the center of his vision.

[Warning: External mana trail detected.] [Someone has marked the Player with a dimensional tracking beacon.] [The beacon will activate in 24 hours. Once active, the Player's location will be revealed to all hunters within a 10 km radius.]

Tarn froze.

The woman didn't just peek. The black-robed man didn't just observe. They had MARKED HIM. And in 24 hours, the entire hunter world would know he was still alive.

"Forty-five percent mana to sustain the shadows," Tarn muttered, his voice cold and flat. "And now I have 24 hours to figure out how to get rid of this beacon before the whole city finds out I'm still alive."

He stared at the exit portal that had just appeared at the edge of the nest—a pale blue glowing light flashing softly, inviting him to come home.

Yet Tarn knew—going home was no longer an option.