Chapter 149 - TFF (Patreon)

The raging torrent of what she knew was her sister’s energy had made Zirida anxious. It was gone now, but she still felt a muted lingering touch of it. As if it was coming through a filter or a veil.

She was on the verge of exhausting herself, having slain quite a few of the robed enemies in her mad rampage driven by [Blood Surge]. Her body was aching as it was still weak and couldn’t keep up with the strain of the skill. And it was only its initial form. However, even exhausted her blood was both a weapon and a cure and it constantly alleviated the stress and strain on her muscles and the levels she had gained from the slaughter had brought her to the edge of tier two.

She could hear the call even now. Power awaited.

The robed invaders that remained were huddled together, defending against the tired and thinned wave of guards. Corpses lay dismembered and destroyed – an aftermath of various skills clashing. A result she had seen before. It was just now that the other members of the outpost were coming, but they were tired and reluctant to fight another pointless clash.

It didn’t seem to matter anymore. Only a few were strong enough to not die instantly against a tier two.

Master Wilbis was still combating his foe high in the skies, and her heightened senses told her enough. He was going to lose soon. It was a close fight, but the barrier user was a perfect match and seemed to enjoy toying with the otherwise strong Outpost Master.

The skinwalkers still their lives away, without a care, as if whatever was happening was a cause worth dying for. An act of rebellion against the Thrones? She doubted it. The fractal was important, but not too important.

Few things were worth dying for, and doing so for someone else’s benefit was not one of them.

Alan was nowhere to be seen, and Kalyntha was struggling against tier two in the sky. The puppets he was using were oddly reminiscent of the fractal’s dolls but changed as if to fit his combat style better. Strange, and very annoying to deal with even for someone like Kalyntha.

She gritted her teeth and pushed at her skill again, forcing a few of her old scars to open. It was time for a final push.

***

Alan sat still for what felt like a lifetime as the whispers overwhelmed him. His mind was buzzing, a beehive of voices and desires that completely ignored the effect of [Soundless]. Some belonged to him, others came from deep inside or far away. They came from something fragmented and forgotten, something that was using him to once again see the light of the living world – a dark hand that had reached out from the nether and wrapped its fingers around his mind, using it to pull itself out.

Shall I slice him? Send the [Chains of the Dark Servants] and bind him? What a mouthful of a name.

Maybe a curse to let him meet the pain living in his subconsciousness. Ah, what a shame it would be not seeing what he’s going through. Not tasting his suffering. Breaking that smug lizard would feel great… Yes! Break him! Snap him like a twig! A dry branch in our hand!

[Mana Zap] can interrupt channeling… I can wreck it all from a distance – cast the skill again and again, overload it with my will and desires. Ruin the plan. Ah, but no.

None of this works. No— we—no, no. Not we. I do it for me. I need to grow. I want it all. It’s building up, ready to be harvested.

After all, why not?

The voices in his mind became silent just as fast as they had appeared and he felt the sense of complete self return to him. One voice cut through the barrier of [Soundless] again to whisper in his ears. It didn’t pretend to be something it was not.

“An unfettered heart takes what it desires and does what it wants,” it said lightly. The voice of a woman. A familiar voice. A voice he would never forget. After all, it was her legacy he had chosen.

Something snapped far away and Alan blinked. The world came into focus as an insane amount of power burst from the ritual. It wrecked the body of the [Red Cleric] holding it all together forcing flesh to crack like thin stone and blood to pour from the cracks as boiling magma. It made Riasko shake like a leaf in the wind. The dragon, however, didn’t react. Not even a flinch.

What had they done to it?

Alan made up his mind. It was stupid and risky, but the call was too strong. He recognized the situation for what it was – an opportunity.

He was blind to the battle in the skies. He sensed Zirida’s presence near Kalyntha’s. It was good that she was there to help, as he was preoccupied with his thoughts and what he was about to do. They couldn’t see him now. They couldn’t feel him. The tier two had finally averted his gaze, taking the two women and those behind them seriously. Not that it mattered.

Alan doubted even a tier two would be able to react on time with how close he had gotten. It seemed silly that there was no more protection. Was it because of distrust?

He crept forward like a would-be thief. Each step sent a jolt of adrenaline that made his heart pump with the voices of a hundred shadows. Excited to be a part of it, filled with greed that rubbed off on Alan, and coming along for the ride.

He felt like a madman with an army of voices at his back. His audience. His comrades, his mentors – and him, their [Scion].

How good it felt.

With a grin, Alan lunged forward at his first target.

And may the worst of us all win.

***

A taste of the future that would soon be his reached Riasko, washing over his scaly skin, the strong flesh beneath, the bubbling blood, and the organs nourished by treasures all his life for this very moment. It touched his core, and from there, he knew bliss.

First, came levels. Many levels and the true bloodline wasn’t even his yet. But a dragon was a dragon, and a dragon was not born as a mere mortal in tier one. No.

A dragon was noble. Arrogant. Proud. They were born better – higher than other existences.

Riasko closed his eyes as the agony that had brought him closer and closer to eternal darkness was slowly pushed away by the wave that was coming for him.

Lifeforce that was stronger than any. Lifeforce that could shape a world. It reached him and… he felt true agony and joy.

Then…

Something unexpected happened.

He felt a presence. He felt a touch coming.

Who was it? A betrayal?

His heart leaped in panic as he opened his eyes only to see a dark shadow pass by and head straight for the dragon.

Dark as night blades shot out from it turning the two weak skinwalker slaves tending the [Red Cleric] into a bloody paste.

Riasko wanted to scream. To call someone! ‘Stop him!’ he would yell! He couldn’t signal or send a message! He couldn’t do anything!

The ritual was holding him like a prisoner in a cell of his own doing. Panic. Fear. Anger that threatened to make him burst.

The power kept coming, however. Maybe nothing was lost?

***

Alan had barely set the mark on Riasko when he shot further, trying to circle the now focused power of the ritual. It had become a thick stream, but its aura was compressed and the power radiating from the initial burst was being compressed. It was a true link between the dragon, the cleric, and the lisarni now.

It had been easy to place the mark on Riasko. There had been no resistance at all as if the lisarni wasn’t even someone with a class at the moment. There was not the slightest pushback.

Alan felt a deep life force the curse connection, but nothing surprising.

What was odd was the thing that was coming. A drop of something new came along and washed Riasko’s life in a darker color. A single drop of it made the turbulent river that was Riasko’s life energy churn and twist and become… more. Much more.

Alan felt fear. If he drank now [Sacrificial Attack] wouldn’t be enough to save him. His body would burst or worse, even with all the changes he had undergone. He was being held together by his many skills and by magic. It was too risky. Especially considering that he didn’t know what would happen if he forcibly did so in the middle of the strange ritual.

That’s why he had decided to insert himself into the chain and reap some of the benefits in a more controlled manner. The voices agreed with his plan. Or maybe it had come from them? It didn’t matter.

And maybe, just maybe, what he was going to was the right thing for once. It remained to be seen if it was truly good. Good and evil were, after all, decided by the strongest. But Alan knew who the strongest here was, and he had a hunch they wouldn’t mind someone upsetting the situation.

The second mark he had prepared landed on the dark scales, each bigger than his head. It almost fizzled out when it came in contact with the space around the dragon but Alan felt his will unconsciously wrap around the curse mark, reinforcing it, making it more. His mana drained almost fully in an instant.

There was a presence in his strand of will. Another will. A will that made the curse mark shine with the darkest darkness and sink through the scales of the sleeping dragon.

Then it was gone just like that.

What Alan felt next made him fall to the ground near the body and heave. His aching skeleton was not the issue, nor was the instinctive fear the beast before him sent through his very soul.

[Soundless] was gone the moment he had attacked, but he couldn’t hear the demon, he couldn’t even hear the ever-present shadows.

What he felt was something boundless. Lifeforce that was an ocean threatening to extinguish his mind and the whole world along with it. Blank, empty, yet bursting with power. The Void. The essence of emptiness made physical. The black between the stars and the final dark that erased it all.

Something arose from that ocean of strange life and it was what had made Alan involuntarily lose strength. A shape, a consciousness as vast as the starry sky. The dragon’s illusory claw wrapped around the curse and seemed to shudder as the will inside was all but extinguished like a match– an action impossible in its design, yet happening before Alan’s inner eye. However, the strange strand he had felt remained.

Two words, like the decree of a God, came to him. A storm. A law. They were sawblades that made his synapses bleed. Blades that stabbed at what made him and seared themselves into his soul for eternity.

“VERY WELL.”

Alan puked blood on the ground. Then another two words fell like heavenly lightning and took the discomfort away.

“I ACCEPT.”

The curse was no longer his and Alan felt the cursed mark change and turn into something else as if mutating or evolving. It was forcibly shaped by the mountainous silhouette he saw in his perception. It was complex and sharp and carrying an indomitable will that screamed with arrogance.

The presence reached for the mark in Riasko too, using Alan as a medium. And then, without Alan doing anything, drank greedily from the lisarni’s life. The ritual paused for just a moment and then the energy started churning in a strange pattern.

The ritual pulled from the Dragon and through the remains of what had once been a proud [Red Cleric], a sister of Salvation. Alan understood that her sacrifice had been what had kept the dragon’s will at bay – a filter.

Then, the enraged energy passed through Riasko, wreaking havoc on the unfortunate lisarni.

Alan held his breath, trying to remain calm. It was still his skill responsible for the change. [Mortal Peril] and the shadows remained silent, which meant there was no immediate danger.

Ever so slowly the new energy washed over him.

It… felt good.

***

Riasko resisted the pull in futility. It was a sentence of death and failure. He tried to stop it, he tried to activate any of his skills or treasure and even reached for his most precious – the escape charm embedded deep within his chest.

Nothing worked as the ritual that intensified and twisted itself changed, locking him in. Another had joined the link and had created a full circle and Riasko was no longer the benefactor.

All was flowing back to the dragon… and the shadow that had joined.

Riasko felt the power that was meant for him come… and pass through, as if he was another cauldron for the ritual. He was to receive only impurities and dirt.

It was not fair. It was not!

He felt the first bone break, and the scales crack.

And there was nothing he could do as the will of the dragon overwhelmed his mind.

Its body was weak and poisoned, but a dragon’s will was unconquerable.

And now it had found a way to reach him.