Chapter 165 - TFF (Patreon)

NOTE: EDITED! Very minor changes... I'm quite happy considering it was written in a work-induced fit of rage... in about 45-50 minutes. A record for me.

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“So that’s it, boy?” Old Greyheart asked. They had come back to his hut to finish their conversation and have another cup of tea. The possibility of tiering up in the fractal had been denied by the apparition and apparently whatever spatial shenanigans were going on in Old Greyheart’s hut were not enough to fully separate from the Bazaar.

Alan nodded. It was time to go home and see what his new path would offer and change. He was excited if a bit reluctant. A patronless warlock… what would become of him? Surely the legacy and the bloodline would play a large part in his next big choice.

The [Bestowment] had been nice though. He wondered if he could awaken some of the dragon’s power hidden in his bloodline. It could be quite incriminating if he met any dragons, but also exciting to think about. It had felt so good.

“I don’t blame you. A newly integrated world… ah. Make use of it, establish yourself, and who knows? You might take the Realm by storm one of these days.” Old Greyheart continued.

“It sounds almost like you believe in me, old man.” Alan grinned.

“You and I, we’re similar. I know myself, and I believe in my stubbornness. Don’t let me down and next time bring some decent tea. I’ll see if I can do something with those things you left.”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t get high on weird kobold herbs together.”

Old Greyheart grinned – a scary grimace showing all of his teeth. “There’s always tomorrow unless you get yourself killed, that is. Also, try to use those insights you have some more when you go back home. Who knows? It might be easier.”

Oh? What a strange piece of advice. Am I not using them enough? And how would he know? Mysterious old bastard... Alan nodded, then turned toward the apparition that had popped out the moment he reached for the token with his mind. They were already saying goodbye, and Alan hadn’t even asked if he could go back home. He just assumed the Bazaar could do anything.

“Mr. Bazaar, what would it take for you to return me to the original destination I came from?”

There was a long pause during which the apparition flickered in place.

“We can do that for you, Mr. Morgan. However, as with all things it will require you to supply the mana for the transportation and the additional mana for payment. We offer services, after all. The destination will not be guaranteed, although we will do our best to transport you close to the World Temple you used the first time. Newly integrated worlds change regularly, and the protections don’t allow us to interfere as we like. Not that we would.”

Alan nodded. He was getting quite a few free handouts, although he was sure time would make him pay for everything eventually.

“How much mana would that take?”

Another pause as the apparition flickered and another appeared. “To the current you it would take 43 of what you perceive as months to supply the mana needed for the transportation if all you’re relying on is your current regeneration and another 326 months for the payment. We could talk numbers, however, we’re not sure the System provides the resources to you to determine how much that is. Speaking in time of regeneration is our preferred way.”

Alan was frozen, gaping at the being. What the fuck?! That’s… so many years. Who could even give them that? Fuck.

“I got you, boy.” Old Greyheart nodded. Before Alan could react the old man stretched a hand and a blue vortex formed over it. Alan could feel the flow of mana, turbulent, larger than life, larger than existence as he knew it. It didn’t affect the surroundings at all, nor did it create a disturbance that could be noticed by the naked eye.

The vortex slowly became a concentrated ball and eventually, it solidified into a pure crystal the likes of which Alan hadn’t seen. The old man didn’t seem to have fatigued at all and Alan gaped once again. Just how strong is Old Greyheart? Will he tell me if I ask?

“Old man, how strong are you?”

Old Greyheart grinned, “Grow up, and I might tell you, boy.”

“This will do, Undying Greyheart. To show such grace to a young one, eternity must’ve changed you.”

“Don’t get smart with me,” Old Greyheart barked.

The apparition stretched a translucent hand and took the crystal.

“So long, boy.” Old Greyheart smiled.

Was this it? Just like that? Alan opened his mouth, and then all was gone.

***

The Rot Mother sensed it through the connection of her thousands of children buried in the soil.

An apparition. A hand. An enigma.

Something immensely strong that reminded her of past lives. It reached through the cracks of the universe to deliver something else to her forest. No, not her forest. Not yet. She held a small part of it and her expansion was meeting difficulties she hadn’t expected.

Monsters the likes of which she hadn’t seen in her fragmented memories. Beasts so powerful they could contest her rotting horde with little to no difficulty. She had even been forced to make an appearance herself a few times.

She detested fighting. She was a mother, a queen, a ruler destined to control, not to conquer the unspoiled flesh of her enemies herself.

And it was dangerous, despite her strength. There were humans out there that could hurt her, that could make her scream in pain. Humans ignored her position and didn’t bow.

The human loved by fire was the worst of them all. A detestable thing that roamed the edges of the forest and fought with beasts, dragging them into the burned Sanctuary resting in the sands that bordered the lush trees.

She hated sand. Dry. Coarse. Nothing to rot. Nothing to consume.

Not fitting for her.

There were monsters there too. Strange ones that resisted her rot.

Disgusting.

She had a form now, a beautiful mesmerizing appearance made in the liking of one such human. As repulsive as they were, their form was suitable for fighting and living in and she found herself enjoying it more and more.

Her legions were changing too, growing to better adapt and consume. It was a small thing - change. She had never thought of concepts before, but the more she consumed the stronger her intuition and mind became.

Soon all that resisted her would join the endless march.

The Rot Mother stretched lazily on her throne of dirt and bones, deep beneath the forest floor, and sent a few of her favorite creations to check on the anomaly that had woken her up.

It was close to the sand line, but maybe the terrible flaming human wouldn’t be there today.

And if he was, she would test him again.

Hopefully, the strange apparition had dropped off something delicious.

***

Matt opened his eyes and the flames went away. There was a change in the forest he was observing day and night.

[Visions in Flame] didn’t show him what for the first time in a while, and his experience told him that it meant it was something strong that had caused the change. It had been a subtle thing, but his mana sensitivity was growing by the day and the smallest shift would be sensed by him for many kilometers.

No matter. He was so close he could taste the next stage of his evolution. And once that was done, it would be time to leave the Sanctuary and spread his wings. Maybe burn apart some of those monsters that were giving him trouble. Where had they come from?

The thought of revenge had long been burned out of him, but there was curiosity in its place. A desire to know. He could find no trace of Florence since getting this strange skill which meant she was probably dead. Pity. Hearing her scream as he slowly melted her centimeter by centimeter had been one of his greatest fantasies. He had practiced so much too.

He knew of the Sanctuary that she had been in though. Many of the initial group were living there day by day, fighting the monsters of rot and the other horrors that were seemingly spawning overnight in the massive forests. There was no one strong, apart from his friend.

What was his name again? He only remembered Florence. He was sure that once he met them it would all come back to him in a flash of fire.

Maybe it was time to reconnect with his old group after all. He was embarrassed with how things had ended.

He was cool now. In control. Fire was his mind, and fire was his blood, and there would be no embarrassment. He stood up, eyeing his home from the top of the World Temple, the only building that remained unmarked by fire and death.

All around him, the Sanctuary shuddered as a gust of wind made the ash flow like a river. Melted concrete and incinerated human remains were all one could see.

They hadn’t been worthy to follow the fire alongside him no matter how much he tried to let them embrace it. Pity.

The loss of the children had been unfortunate, but who knew they weren’t allowed access to the System? Someone should’ve told him that.

All Matt had truly wanted was to spread the joy of fire, and the wonderful sound it made when caressing flesh.

***

Trees as far as Alan could see surrounded him in each direction. They were much larger than he remembered and towered overhead, making him feel like a tiny human in a world of giants. Was this Earth? Was he even close to the Sanctuary or even a familiar place?

It was a forest alright, but nothing like what he remembered, as if the world had continued growing more and more during his absence. Or as if he’d been gone for much longer than a few months… was it half a year? Time didn’t matter.

Alan took a deep breath and randomly chose a tree to climb on. Daggers of the darkest shadows formed in his hands and the shadows covered his boots too, turning into spikes. It took him moments to reach the top.

A sea of green as far as the eyes could see. There was something like a desert in the far distance though, or was it his eyes playing tricks?

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the flow of mana with intensity stronger than ever. He tried to find the emptiness too but turned it upon himself to help him focus.

It took a few tries, but the world was soon replaced by an all-encompassing field that covered the sky, earth, trees, and himself like they were submerged in an infinite ocean. And there were currents he could follow; flows he could sense.

He pushed further and further. He knew this sensation. He was on Earth, and he was not that far from his… friends.

However, there was another thing to do first.

***

A man knelt on the floor in an immense golden hall, shuddering under the might of the woman on the dais before him.

The kneeling man’s hair was long, abyssal, and slick, and his grin was more of a snarl than anything. Space shuddered from the intense anger he was feeling, but try as he may he couldn’t move.

He was dark in complexion with eyes that were both empty and filled with such a sense of destruction the likes of which few below tier three could resist.

The Void Dragon had been forced to take on his human form, as it was rude to remain in his true body before his betters.

If they were to unleash their true bodies, the whole planet wouldn’t be able to hold them, so it was understandable.

The woman on the dais spoke, her voice making the gold columns and murals flow like water and tremble like a leaf. “You are special. Yet, you dare give your bloodline to a mere mortal and even assault an Elder to save the human? When will you learn that you don’t belong to yourself? All of what you are exists for us, for dragonkind, and for our future. You’re an experiment, a blasphemous creation of the Void Tree’s last struggle. You live, because we allow it.”

“He… saved… me.” The Void Dragon snarled with effort. It took everything to say these three words.

Those present gasped and the one who had spoken frowned.

“Still, you resist. Such an unruly child. If you were anyone else, you’d be killed. But as I said, you’re special. Perhaps a punishment is in order. As for the rest of you… find the human and bring him here. Let’s see what our unruly child has created with its experiments.”

She waved a hand and the golden floor swallowed the struggling form of the Void Dragon.