Chapter 1768 (Patreon)

ToC: https://www.patreon.com/posts/23899958

Elbow feels better~. I'll keep today's writing light so I don't worsen it tho. Chapters tomorrow.

Releasing the pillar of grey light depleted the last pinch of Randidly’s Willpower. What remained inside of him was a humming need to cease all mental activities. After Neveah gave him the signal that everything went as planned, he gladly withdrew into himself and curled up on the surface of the moon for a long nap. At this point, comfort was the furthest thing from his mind. His senses sank into oblivion, finally blunting the edge of the strain he had endured while he worked on Claudette’s image.

As he slept, he didn’t dream. Even in his exhausted state, Randidly considered it a small victory worth celebrating.

A yawn stretched his jaw to cracking as he was pulled back to wakefulness. The slow and lazy extension of his body popped his shoulders, neck, and back. All of the strangeness of his physical form had vanished; a lazy warmth coiled through his powerful body, even as he was hit by another large stomach rumble. He leveraged himself up into a sitting position and stifled another yawn. Randidly glanced across the rough surface of the moon and saw that Claudette was still sleeping.

I might have been the one working, be she had to host all of my efforts. Her exhaustion is probably even worse than mine. And we started this process early exactly so she would have some time to adjust.

Randidly stood, checking in with each of his images in turn. Yggdrasil creaked cheerily in greeting. But what he sensed from the image was enough that he paused and scanned it once more; some slight visual changes were occurring across the World Tree. Perhaps its evolution had been aided by his work with Claudette.

The Stillborn Phoenix pulsed weakly during its inspection, probably still subdued from taking on the lion’s share of the efforts during the image refinement. The Grey Creature, for an entirely different reason than Yggdrasil, gave Randidly pause. For after nodding in acknowledgment of him, his image continued to stare off toward the horizon.

Randidly followed his gaze and saw the asteroid he had given the Pantheon for Expira’s trial. At this very moment, the climax of the Calamity still raged. He could feel the daring and bravery of Expira’s expedition, pushing through hordes of increasingly strong enemies to reach the altar. He even felt the Pantheon’s movements, as they prepared to release an Avatar of the Grey.

Mostly it’s a being shaped by Alta and Lucretia and combined with my memories of the Patron of Ash, but there is still a little bit of me in that enemy. I guess there had to be, to have enough force to overpower people like Alana and Lucifer.

Sighing, Randidly turned away. Even though he had largely been unconscious for twelve hours, the focused exploitations of his emotions left a portion of his heart unnaturally still. He couldn’t stand to observe the final fight, lest someone die.

Right now, he couldn’t handle the consequences of his prior choices.

So he flickered and vanished from Expira, returning to his floating position in the Shaft. Nether flowed steadily downward and emotions writhed up toward freedom. He hesitated for a short time but began to ascend back toward the Nexus. Claudette would need time to recover and acclimate to her new image, but there was still a little less than two months until Don Beigon’s party to celebrate his third Mille.

Besides, despite how bleak the situation was in his heart, his attention kept returning to the prospect of making Commandant Wick pay. And although it was difficult to admit, this was not a problem that could address with just a long training session. There was too much he didn’t understand about the Commandant himself and how much Military High Command would protect him if Randidly really did make a move.

He needed to gather information and formulate a plan, which meant he needed to allow time in the broader Nexus to pass.

Randidly stomped into Edraine’s safe house and found Octavius Shrike and Lady Iellaya in the study. The feathered woman raised her eyebrows as she looked Randidly up and down. Her lips curled at the ends, before settling down to a more vulnerable expression. “...you certainly have seen better days, huh? I heard about your subordinate. My condolences.”

“Any word from Edraine?”  Randidly replied, trying to ignore how raw his voice sounded. Lady Iellaya’s words hit him harder than he had expected.

Because she knew, from her own tragic loss of her subordinate on the frontlines. The empathy unnerved him.

Am I really surprised though…? I’ve been distracting myself with work, but not much time has passed since Helen died. Especially out here in the Nexus.

“None,” Octavius shook his head. “But that’s fine, our roles were information gathering anyway. We will continue to monitor the situation; honestly, I’ll be happy as long as Edraine and Velio Dunn don’t show up somewhere and destroy something very publically. Out of sight is out of mind for the Nexus.”

“Keep it minor, for now, but I’d like a favor.” Randidly’s skin suddenly felt hot. Despite how exhausted his heart was, a few small simmering flames of resentment ignited in his gut. “Find out what you can about Commandant Wick.”

Lady Iellaya gave him a long look. “Are you sure about it? That’s exactly what the Commandant wants. For you to obsess and pursue him.”

Randidly just nodded, feeling like he had swallowed a massive slug and it now was flopping back and forth in his stomach. His appetite had vanished. Then he excused himself and walked back to his personal room. His chest ached; his Nether Core whined weakly, still unable to gather enough energy back to itself to stabilize the situation. Randidly had drawn too deeply from its reserves, relying on those three small grey bubbles to keep everything from collapsing.

In the dark room, he eased himself onto the floor. Feels like a waste, but I might need to take another nap.

Hopefully when I wake up...

He couldn’t finish the thought, lest he wake up more emotions than he was ready to handle. So he slept, forcing his body to relax and sternly telling his nauseous stomach to calm down. Unfortunately, this time he wasn’t as lucky as the first rest; he had long, chaotic dreams where he fought wildly against mutated ants. He carved a gore-filled path to the inner area of the frantic war, blood steadily staining his body and his vision.

In that flickering core, he found a scared-looking lizardman that he didn’t recognize. The features of his face were striking but completely unfamiliar. Randidly stopped up short from this individual, lifting his spear and pausing in his slaughter. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

The lizardman looked at Randidly for several long seconds. Booming echoes of combat drifted between them, distorting the space. Then the lizard chuckled. “I’m D’min. Even after creating and slaughtering me and my people, you don’t even recognize us? Did you know… I never even wanted to be a hero. I just wanted to make sure my brother had a future. And now-”

Influence +103!

Randidly sat bolt upright in Edraine’s safehouse, thick drops of cold sweat dripping from his forehead. For a brief moment there was some inner, personal recognition in the dream that made it feel like the Lizakh D’min could speak directly into his soul. But as the remnants of the dream faded, that feeling vanished, making Randidly wonder if he imagined it.

He reached up and rubbed away the sweat with his left hand, earning a muttered curse when one of the sharp edges of the corroded fingers caught on his skin. A light touch on the ground with a finger tossed him to his feet and he walked over to the basin at the far end of the room to wash his face.

There was no mirror, so he just stared at the wall as he slapped his damp cheeks. He might be shaken, but the dream-filled sleep had at least jump-started his Nether Core. Nether flowed through his body in thick waves. He could feel some of it continually absorbing tiny pinches of the ache in his heart for significance, but he appreciated it all the same.

This time Randidly woke up after a full twenty-four hours of sleeping, returning to his peak state, but still felt like shit. Considering the circumstances, there probably wasn’t any way around it. He reached out for Neveah and found that Claudette was still recovering on the moon. So Randidly walked out of his room and pondered his next move.

His thoughts were quickly derailed; outside Randidly’s door, there was a scroll pinned to a wall with a cloth bag beneath it on the floor. Randidly ripped the scroll off its mooring and read it. He recognized the handwriting as Octavius’.

Dear Randidly,

You seemed exhausted, so I let you sleep, although there have been a few developments in the last day. First, you received three letters. One from someone in Military High Command, who Lady Iellaya says is a mid-level snake serving another Commandant. Another from Don Beigon. The final is from that disciple who oversaw the performance of the Grand Pattern at the Imperium Ball. You should be wary that so many influential individuals are reaching out to you.

Perhaps more importantly, the situation in the Nexus is destabilizing further. Most of the political pressure on the Swacc Family had dissipated as ire was concentrated on Velio Dunn and Edraine. Plus a lot of the orthodox Nexus has its energies tied up getting the overlay System back online, but last night three powerful Pinnacle Seekers assaulted the Swacc Family headquarters.

No one is leaking information regarding the motivation, but the Swacc Family are preparing for war and the Pinnacle Seekers are bunkering down on a planet on the outskirts of the Nexus. Whatever happened must have been serious.

Randidly rubbed his chin slowly as he read back through the letter a second time. It seemed like the Pinnacle Seekers were unwilling to allow this period of instability in the Nexus to pass without grabbing at some value. He wondered if Claudette’s Frost Matriarch was involved.

Ultimately, the broader issues could wait until later. Randidly pulled the cloth bag off the wall and took the three letters back into the room. He read them in order that Octavius Shrike described them.

The military letter was from Pinion Trake, who requested the cooperation of Randidly and some of his subordinates to pacify a rebelling planet. The language of the letter corroborated Lady Iellaya’s accusation of being a snake; the obsequious praises and flattery practically squeaked off the page.

Still, reading the letter did give Randidly pause. A rebelling planet? If the Nexus were to find out the status of Expira, would it also have been considered to be rebelling…?

Shaking his head, he moved on to the letter from Don Beigon. When he opened the envelope, a normal scroll and a thick packet of papers held together by a bright red ribbon. Randidly’s expression twisted as he read the extremely short message on the scroll.

Attached is all the information I have regarding Commandant Wick. Your relationship isn’t simple, yes?

If you choose to peruse the attached materials, I assume you won’t mind owing me a favor.

-The Don

“God, I hope Claudette is now powerful enough to tell you to fuck yourself,” Randidly muttered as he crumpled up the scroll. For several seconds, he glared at the red ribbon, hoping that the tempting package would vanish. But of course, it didn’t. He then considered simply flaring his image and annihilating the presumptuous package.

He ultimately didn’t do that either.

Randidly forced himself to release a breath. He stored the packet within his interspatial ring. Don Beigon’s strange, transactional image laid heavily across this offer, but Randidly knew that he didn’t need to make a decision now. He should wait and gather information on his own before rushing into this decision.

The final letter was similar to the first. Randidly was invited to a special, hundred slot training camp to pursue the Grand Pattern. Almost apologetically, the invitation admitted that 50% of the attendees would die, but the most talented ten would experience personal instruction from the visionary who had created the grand pattern.

It was, the letter insisted, an opportunity that could change the Fate of Randidly Ghosthound.