Chapter 328. Last Words (Patreon)

Ian’s ethereal energy tendrils now spread like terrible fault lines throughout Achemiss’s soul. Achemiss would die if he couldn’t hold his soul together and keep it from collapsing, but how could he hold it together with Ian’s ethereal body renting it apart?

Achemiss’s ethereal body roiled and crashed into the soul like a wave, compressing it and crushing Ian’s intrusive energy so that it oozed out the sides, forcefully ejected. Suddenly, Achemiss’s soul-protecting artifacts reactivated, no longer interrupted by the wave of transformation from the Blade of Revelation. Achemiss’s ethereal body froze, once more becoming an immutable bulwark.

Except for in the exceptional case where an adversary had already reached the soul itself, solidifying the ethereal body would provide a nearly impregnable defense. With Achemiss’s energy suddenly frozen, he failed to squeeze out all traces of Ian’s ethereal body from within his soul. Ian felt the necromancer’s soul shudder and peel away from the tendrils still lodged within. Achemiss immediately deactivated the defenses, but he was too late.

His soul shattered.

Achemiss’s body went limp. The lightless darkness abated, and the artifacts beating on the black rock barrier halted. The reprieve was timely–the spectral rocks were so ravaged that they cracked like a broken egg, shards of rock falling to the sides and disappearing, forcefully unsummoned.

Achemiss’s body fell backward beyond the former area of annihilation that had filled the black rock barrier and cut a clean hole in the pier. His leg draped off the edge over frothing, dark water.

The marina was silent aside from the blue waves of Lake Adrian thrashing the dockside and the slow dripping of water from doused structures.

Ian trembled and reflexively conjured Death energy vestments to cover himself. He couldn’t see the surroundings with his eyes; they had been destroyed along with his skin and clothes. He still had his Death energy perception, though, allowing him to perceive the surroundings in monochrome.

Achemiss’s body was a grayish stain on the ground, the white vitality leaking away into the wood planks of the pier. The man’s face was frozen in a rictus of pain, outrage, and disbelief.

Ian felt only apprehension as he carved the man’s flesh with his decemancy, separating muscle and blood from bone. He directed all artifacts into a single pile off to the side. Ian planned to take them with him but didn’t trust that they weren’t boobytrapped. He needed to sound them out, ideally with Maria’s help. End affinity was perfect for inspecting artifacts for dangerous enchantments.

Ian’s body was in a dire state, so he cannibalized Achemiss’s flesh, turning it into substrate for expedited growth. Pulverized organs and muscles mixed with blood to form a thick, red suspension that coated every inch of Ian’s body. He knew how gruesome it would look to onlookers–he was literally bathing in the blood of a man he’d just murdered.

It’s practical, he thought, nearly laughing out loud at the absurdity of the situation. He was in a bitter mood, but not because of his injuries. He didn’t feel victorious.

In the very last moment that Achemiss was conscious, the transformation of the Blade of Revelation swept through the mental defense artifacts as well, causing them to momentarily fail. Achemiss’s inherent mental defenses would normally protect him in such a situation, but his impending death rattled him. For a moment, Achemiss’s mind was open.

Ian still wasn’t a Remorse expert and couldn’t make the most of the opportunity to scour the necromancer’s mind. He did, however, hear Achemiss’s last thought: “When I come back…”

Not if, but when.

Achemiss’s dying thought was malice given form, even if it was unfinished. The missing promise had a concrete presence and felt like a pair of massive fangs, sizzling with vengeful venom, gnashing at the world, rejecting the allure of final rest.

Unrelenting and utterly unwilling to die.

Achemiss was a masterful necromancer who feared death to an extreme degree. Even though Ian butchered the man’s body himself, after hearing Achemiss’s final words, he wasn’t convinced the ascendant was truly dead. There was only one way to be sure.

Maria, Ian thought, come back.

Is it over?

Ian was staggered by the implications of her question. Can’t you tell?

I thought he escaped.

No–I killed him, Ian insisted, hoping that she was just joking, even though he knew she wouldn’t mess around about something so important. How could he have escaped? I’m staring at the remnants of his corpse. I felt his soul shatter.

Just a second ago, his End arrow abruptly changed orientation and grew fainter. It lingered for a moment before it disappeared. I used ascendant energy to increase the range of my fatesight but couldn’t locate him. He must be on the other side of the world.

In two breaths, Maria arrived at Ian’s side, landing carefully on the ruined boardwalk. She found Ian hovering over a hole in the pier facing a partially deconstructed corpse. A mound of miscellaneous artifacts lay on one of the more intact sections of wood planks off to the right.

This… Her thoughts trailed off. It’s like a hurricane or tsunami swept through.

No–it’s like someone sent the marina into a blender.

Achemiss’s artifacts had cut the surroundings into pieces, turning all nearby shops into piles of rubble. It looked as though many long, sharp edges had assailed the surroundings, then served as lighting rods. Parts of the boardwalk smoked. Two restaurants were even frozen solid with what looked like roaring green flames burning inside them.

There were no corpses, but the immediate area was devoid of vitality, suggesting that something had deliberately targeted people. Based on what Ian had seen in Achemiss’s workshop, he suspected it was an artifact that absorbed human bodies to serve as an amplifying battery. There definitely hadn’t been enough human lives nearby to matter; the artifact had probably just been thrown out with all the others, because why not?

Ian hadn’t been able to sense people’s thoughts once the black rock barrier went up. He couldn’t know what they felt as the world bowed before the might of Achemiss’s artifacts, but he hoped that they hadn’t understood what was happening.

People within his very limited range still didn’t understand what had happened, and it had already been five or six seconds since the ascendant trio had arrived. Most couldn’t even see the boardwalk; they were simply staring, shocked, as the surroundings collapsed.

The artifacts were focused on me the entire time, yet they caused this much collateral destruction in two seconds, Ian noted, his thoughts somber.

Well, it’s good you stopped him when you did, or the situation would be far worse.

Ian found no comfort in her words. He didn’t need it. He knew what he was doing when he brought Achemiss down–knew that he was possibly dooming innocent bystanders.

No matter how valuable the people were on the marina that morning, their deaths were necessary and unavoidable. Achemiss wanted the world to end, and he would kill far more than a thousand people in pursuit of that goal. Consequently, Ian felt bad, but in an abstract way. It reminded him of how he felt after killing people in the Infinity Loop.

But what did the sacrifice of those civilians mean if Achemiss was alive? Were their deaths pointless because he failed?

Maria tugged on his arm, her fingers grabbing his blood-drenched, ruined skin without hesitation. It’s time to go.

He let her pull him past the guardrail and over the open water, trawling the artifacts on a sled of bones. His mind was blank as the wind whipped his fragile skin.

He couldn’t wrap his hand around the fact that he was back. What should be a joyous occasion was corrupted by Achemiss’s continued, inexplicable existence. He felt exhausted and incompetent.

You need help, Maria said after they had been flying for several minutes.

I know. Especially if he wanted to regain his visual sight anytime soon. We’ll need to skirt around the lake. Find somewhere I won’t be immediately recognized.

Ian knew he had gotten too used to Eternity’s convenient “resets.” His grievous injuries really were unavoidable, but they served as a pressing reminder of his mortality.

He could die. Trust the wrong person, and it would spell his end. Ascendant energy wouldn’t save him if he was caught by surprise. With Achemiss still in the picture, Ian couldn’t afford to be reckless. Before descending, Ian had thought that, with Achemiss dead, he wouldn’t need to worry. If he made a mistake and died, then he died–it would suck, but the world wouldn’t end. He trusted Euryphel to take care of the Infinity Loop problem and save everyone, even if Euryphel didn’t have such faith in himself.

But with Achemiss alive… Ian was possibly the only thing standing between Achemiss and the end of the world. Ian knew that his death might spell catastrophe.

The chains of responsibility choked him.

While they flew, Maria went through the pile of Achemiss’s artifacts. She determined that most of them were safe to use–these were largely pieces that Achemiss always wore on his person. The biggest problem was the void storages that Maria determined would collapse if opened by anyone other than Achemiss. Still, she ascertained that they could be safely stored in another storage artifact.

Ian healed himself on a superficial level. He looked better, but he knew parts of his skin were still lumpy and bloody. His transformed skin resisted Dark attacks, but it was slower to heal. Ending the transformation would improve the speed of recovery, but he would be less resilient.

You won’t blend in unless you transform back, Maria said. You’re extremely conspicuous.

I’ll still be extremely conspicuous if I’m wearing a crown of embers, a fiery cloak, and a silvery bracers, Ian argued. Until he had time to fix his soul, he would fall unconscious in his untransformed state unless Maria became his regalia.

This argument is ridiculous, Maria thought. You can hide or explain away your artifact, but you can’t hide inhuman attributes like your skin–and wings!–from a Life practitioner.

She snatched the Blade of Revelation from his belt and slashed herself across the chest. Ian pulled off the ring of flesh shift as Maria’s regalia settled over him. He could obscure the glow of the cloak’s underside and even remove the bracers, as they were helpful, but not responsible for stabilizing his soul.

Unfortunately, the ember crown couldn’t be moved without tempting unconsciousness.

Ian drew steadily closer to the shore, keeping close to the wavetops to avoid detection. He plunged himself into the waves as a group of tourists passed by on a small yacht. Bobbing in the boat’s wake, he used his decemancy to extricate all remaining bits of ruined flesh and sent them into the water.

He finally approached the mainland only when he was confident that he wouldn’t trigger arrays intended to force civilians to stay in shallow water and away from seafaring vessels. He donned a diving suit from his void storage–the one he had worn to reach the rift in the Jermal Trench. It covered his entire head save for the ember diadem. He swam the rest of the way to shore. He pulled off the head covering like removing a hood, exposing his ruined face.

Realizing his mistake, Ian tried to form a hat facsimile out of Death energy, hiding his face. Hopefully, they think I just look like a burn victim, Ian thought as he walked robotically across the sand.

Hopefully Achemiss looks far worse than you, Maria commented.

Y’jeni, Ian thought, he’d better. If Achemiss were somehow already healed up to perfect condition thanks to the help of some artifact, Ian was completely screwed. But he trusted in his power. Even if Achemiss was alive, Ian had landed a devastating blow to the man’s soul. More than likely, Achemiss was unconscious and passively recuperating.

Ian needed to find him and end him.

Don’t overthink things, Maria thought. You’re not alone. Let the Darkseers join the hunt. We’ll find Achemiss and kill him for good.