Chapter 134 - TFF (Patreon)

The sky hung low. Too low. It was artificial at best and conjured by someone who didn’t care for making it look real. Or like the being responsible for it had seen skies a long time ago and worked from hazy memory. The world around was a jagged mess in different shades of white and yellow. Skeletons of creatures long lost to the world created mountain chains and peaks that scratched the sloppy sky while the floor was littered with broken skeletons and bones of all sorts.

Alan gaped at the sight. Then his blood froze. Or at least something froze. There were no shadows around him, nor could he hear their whispers that had so incessantly wormed their way into something he considered normal. In a fit of panic, he tried to cast a skill, to drink life, or to summon his daggers. Nothing worked. He had no mana, skills, or even System access.

He felt emptiness the likes of which hadn’t felt even when they told him he was sick and dying. Even when his normal life had ended and he had become a cynical asshole. This felt magnitudes worse. This was his power! He had earned it! It was his alone! The levels, the skills, the whole random mess was his!

Alan screamed and his voice tore through the bone world, getting lost amidst the crevices and death.

“Calm down, calm down. Nothing’s lost,” a voice came from behind him and he turned. Sharp pain shot through his spine and muscles due to the motion and his eyes widened.

Am I sick again? What sort of skill is this?! I’d rather die than be like I was!

Bonez stood behind him. Or at least, someone who vaguely looked like Bonez. The man was with good posture, dressed in simple robes and his face was full of vigor and life. A sharp contrast to the hollowed-out cheeks and sunken eye sockets of the Bonez Alan knew. That didn’t alleviate any of his anger though, not at all.

“What did you do to me?” he asked. He didn’t remember hating anyone more in his life. Not even himself.

“Nothing. This is a projection of the Lord’s domain. Or one of them. Getting into the fractal might be… unwise, so we decided this was the better option. Your current state is simply your mind’s view of yourself. I know it might feel, bad, but it will pass. Our bodies are back in your place. Well protected. Quite barebones I say, hehe,” Bonez winked then looked Alan up and down in confusion.

How I view myself? Hadn’t he moved from seeing himself as a broken person, fit only to moan, complain, and push people away? Was he still this broken boy without an ounce of strength in his muscles and a sharp tongue that served no purpose other than mild amusements and a false sense of security? No. He had thrown this version of himself away. He had outgrown it. He was a warrior now. He had killed, he had bled and he had made comrades!

Alan shook his head. This was not him. He refused to believe it.

“Oh, the Lord will show himself now, pay attention! You will understand it all in a second! And remember! Bow low!”

A mountain of bones shook and the world rumbled alongside it. Then a being formed from all the broken remains. It began as a whirlwind of bones that flew and clashed and broke and reformed. They finally formed a horned creature with white fire in its five eyes. It stood tall and imposing, like an angry god looking down at ants. Its head brushed the sky and an aura that chased away all anger and thoughts from Alan’s mind washed over them. It was overwhelming.

Bonez fell to the ground and smashed his head into a large bone. He was trembling and the faint sign of tears appeared in the man’s eyes.

Alan too felt himself unable to control his body as his knees buckled. He caught himself and used his hands to barely cling to a rib that stuck out next to him. However, his efforts proved futile and he soon found himself on the ground.

“KNEEL AND ACCEPT ME, [WARLOCK]. I WILL GIVE YOU POWER THE LIKES OF WHICH YOU HAVEN’T KNOWN,” the Bone Lord's voice boomed. All around Alan, the world became white.

The Bone Lord offers you a [Pact].

Do you accept? Y/N

So, the bastard cannot force me? Fuck him then! And fuck this cunt next to me!

“Fuck no!” Alan yelled out. The aura strengthened and he felt his body creak. The pain was excruciating, making tears come to his eyes. Wasn’t this all in his head? Why did it hurt so much?

“What are you doing, you fool?! Accept!” Bonez hissed from next to him. “He doesn’t even need to feel you out, you’ve been deemed worthy! An honor! What else do you need?”

I need you to fuck off and die while choking on that monster’s boney dick you fucking piece of shit.

Alan’s mouth couldn’t move. He couldn’t even separate his teeth much less speak.

“RENOUNCE THE REMNANT SHADOWS STAINING YOUR SOUL. BECOME MINE AND YOU SHALL KNOW POWER.”

The Bone Lord offers you a [Pact].

Do you accept? Y/N

NO!

There was rumbling. Bonez screamed, Alan screamed. Then the world of bones was gone and they found themselves in a well-decorated hall. Of course, bones were the main motive of it all. Skulls hung on the wall while skeletons floated near the ceiling as if alive – birds and monkey-like things with wings. A long white table filled with exquisite food and standing on two skeletal legs took most of the middle of the hall. Portraits of various people in equal distances between the spaces. They were human, and lisarni, and other races Alan didn’t know the name of.

Bonez was sitting on one of the chairs, shaking. From excitement or fear it didn’t matter. Alan suddenly found himself sitting opposite Bonez. His view of the whole thing shifted.

“Why are you being difficult?” a voice spoke from the head of the table. It was difficult to see. Not that it was far or hidden. Simply looking in the direction of the being made Alan’s eyes hurt and tear up. Bonez put his face on the table and remained like that, still shaking.

Alan heard him whisper something under his breath on repeat.

“I don’t want a patron,” Alan said. It hurt to speak in the presence of the being, but he still did. It was all he had.

“A [Warlock] without a patron. You’re a mess! You have no real power! You’ll be nobody! Why do you keep refusing our Lord?”

Our lord? Is this not the bastard Lord? Didn’t he wish for a chat?

“Who are you?” Alan spat.

Bonez gasped.

The figure at the head of the table fell silent. “I’m one of your fellow… [Warlocks]. But unlike you, two ants, stand on top of this path and can assure you, the benefits eclipse the suffering. You’d be a fool not to accept. I don’t know why the Lord wants you specifically, but you need to accept. I’m known to be quite convincing, so I’ll speak on his behalf.”

“Why doesn’t he speak to me himself?”

“Ha! He will. Once you accept his Pact. Being a patron in the Myriad Realm is… a complicated thing. There are rules. Foolish rules and restrictions. However, our patron is above most of them. He is one of the strongest and he saw something in you. Something that confused him, but also drew him in.”

“He’s one of the strongest he still bows to the Thrones like you bow to him, huh? Does he lick their shoes too?”

The hall rumbled and all engulfing anger washed over Alan and Bonez. Both trembled as if their skeletons were trying to leave their bodies. Alan repeatedly told himself that this was just an illusion, that this body was not real, that he was not the weak human he had once been.

“Do. Not. Insult. The Lord!” The figure at the head of the table spoke each word as if through gritted teeth. He took a breath and reached for a goblet. “Eat, drink. It is all in the mind, so it doesn’t matter.”

“As if.”

Another sigh.

“There is no shadow patron in the Realm. Your best bet is picking [Pact] and choosing one of the lesser ones that fight like vultures for every single follower. Our Lord is different. He stands above all… and his power. Ah, if you only feel a fraction of the real thing you will be ready to sacrifice anything and anyone to serve.”

Alan was about to curse the man out. However, it was an opportunity.

“Aren’t [pacts] supposed to be mutually beneficial connections? Why does it look like you two are slaves?”

The man banged on the table and for a brief moment whatever was obscuring him from sight trembled. Alan saw a glimpse of something white. A skeleton perhaps.

“We are not slaves. We are, however, devoted to our Lord.”

“He is no god.”

“That, he isn’t. Gods need their worship and their belief. Patrons need services that more often than not prove to be beneficial for everyone. I was a weak little thing like you back then, sharing a [Pact] with a pathetic patron that trembled each time one of the giants moved, hiding like a worm. I was reborn when the Lord of Bones found me and gave me his power. I killed my fellow [warlocks], I spat on my old patron, and I’ve thrived since then. Don’t you wish for revenge? Don’t you have someone you want to kill, who looked down upon you or slighted you? All could be yours,” the person spoke.

Alan fell silent, giving himself a thoughtful look. After a few seconds, he looked up, took one of the bone goblets, and threw it with all his pathetic strength toward the person at the head of the table. It didn’t go far, clattering a mere meter away. The pain that shot through him was significant, however. It made him burst out in curses and sweat.

This is a good reminder. I should thank the bastards. I had forgotten how it felt to be me before the System and all the crutches I’d gathered. Ah, fuck.

“Foolish child,” the being said. “You said he was being difficult, but now I see it. You can go back, and guard his body. We will see how long he can deny the gifts of our Lord.”

What?

“Yes!” Bonez shot up, then seemed to hesitate. “If they come looking for him it might be difficult to fight back. We’re in a fractal outpost, and some weird things are going down.”

“Don’t worry. It will feel like mere minutes to you. To him, however, it will be an eternity.”

“I promise, I’ll repay you. All of you.” Alan said as the world around him started twisting again.

He was back in the world of bone. There was no sign of the Bone Lord or whatever the thing that had appeared earlier was.

The next moment the world shook as if there was a whirlpool beneath all the skeletal remains and Alan cursed as the bones, he was standing on started moving. Trying to keep his balance made the pain in his muscles flare up. Eventually, he failed and fell. The bones moved faster and faster. Hitting him, stabbing at his body, some smaller ones eventually passing through him.

He screamed from the pain. Each wound closed and, in its place, another opened. He screamed and he screamed. Time lost meaning as he was thrown around in a meat grinder made of old skeletons, jagged bones, or ones as large as a mountain again and again. No matter what happened to him though, he never died. He never felt even close to death.

At one point even the bones in his body started moving out of their fleshy prison. Each shake, each movement made them stab at his insides, pierce his lungs, and poke out of his skin. And time and time again he would be whole as if nothing had happened.

Telling himself all was happening only in his mind didn’t work. It felt real. The pain was real. Seconds, minutes, hours, maybe days. It was too much. He couldn’t faint, and he couldn’t die no matter how he wished for both.

Finally, the bones slowed down. Alan was back on the table as if it had never been. He breathed heavily and screamed some more until he finally calmed down.

“So? Do you need more convincing?” the figure asked.

The Bone Lord offers you a [Pact].

Do you accept? Y/N

Alan grinned madly. They would all pay. As long as he got out, he would kill Bonez and once he was strong enough, he would kill this bastard and his fucking Lord.

He laughed. One strange thought swam up in his mind through the pain and madness he was feeling. It was a strange thing to remember. And useful.

He closed his eyes and shook on his chair, ignoring the hazy figure. He didn’t deny the request, but he didn’t agree to it either.

The System wasn’t answering his calls, but he was still him, right? His will was his own. His choice was his own. And he had friends willing to trade during important choices…

He hoped it would work and the spirits would answer.

They didn’t strike him as ones that cared for rules.