Chapter 232: Small Sacrifices (Patreon)

Coop was fixated on the palms of his hands as he waited for his vibrating vision to fully return to normal. The ambient mana within the settlement had undergone a rapid collapse before replenishing itself with a flood that left him feeling like he was back in the deep ocean, struggling to keep his head above water, and ultimately at the mercy of an unfamiliar elemental force. The settlement territory had completely withdrawn and the rush had surged directly through everything, including him, like gusts of wind uninhibited by tangible material. His fingers were still trembling in instinctive fear and awe. The end had been uncomfortably close.

He was lying flat against crumbled stone at the top of Chakyum’s temple, gracelessly pressed down like a wet leaf caught in a storm. The gales that had crushed the temple had been brief, but there was no denying their strength. He had experienced weaker gusts in the middle of category five hurricanes. The winds had been strong enough to transform the monumental tomb into a mound of riprap better used to armor shorelines than to honor a leader. If he hadn’t already drained his mana going all out with Inheritance of the Mists, he was pretty sure his own resources would have been affected by the shard’s implosion as well. He was happy to remain ignorant toward what the result would have been.

He consciously calmed his ragged breathing, reassuring himself of his vitality with deep breaths that filled his lungs. First, the Deep Dweller had reduced the perception of his individual existence into irrelevance, then the destruction of a shard revealed just how integrated mana was into reality. It felt a bit like experiencing the start of the assimilation for the first time all over again, given how out of his own depth he was feeling.

The sounds of battle in the distance helped him focus, confirming that the battle between Jaguar Sun and the remnants of the Cult continued. He hoped they didn’t need any more of his help, because he wasn’t sure if he had anything left to give. Without Chakyum’s presence or the civilization shard, the uprising had lost several of their objectives, but the minions of the Lich had numbers that wouldn’t be quelled so easily. He really wasn’t in any shape to continue fighting, but the actual war wasn’t even close to done. The Cultists had undergone a forced transformation, but they weren’t so easily dismissed.

His mana was naturally regenerating, but it would be a while before he could do much of anything. Instead of his mana pool refilling, the new mana was being absorbed by his depleted Spectral-Infused Under Armor. The legendary item had the Regenerative Durability trait that allowed it to recharge itself while within Ghost Reef’s territory or from his own resources. He breathed a small sigh of relief that it hadn’t been truly destroyed, but for the moment it was absent.

He watched the sky while his most basic armor reformed, searching for more dramatic entrances from whatever faction or entity that had something else to say. It seemed like an appropriate time for an Icon of Mana to appear and finish him off, but the implosion had ended with the reverse of what normally preceded their summons. When only the first stars of the incoming night twinkled at him, he hummed to himself, believing the coast was clear.

Another thought occurred to him as the colors of his vision returned to normal. “What the heck happened to Lyriel?” The self-proclaimed Avatar of the System had all but promised she would be back, though she claimed it would take more mana each time. An update on Earth’s status would be nice, but she seemed to be staying away. He mentally shrugged to himself, considering the possibility that she was visiting others on Earth or even in other assimilations instead.

Once his Under Armor had recovered enough to protect his decency, Coop slowly forced himself back to his own feet with a series of groans. Getting up had become a multi-step process. Slowly rolling over, he rocked himself up from one knee, tenderly moving as pain radiated throughout his body without a specific source. It felt like he was on the verge of death.

A quick check of his health confirmed that he was indeed, but it was mostly a result of his flirtation with power beyond his means rather than the Lich’s final gambit. The buffs and debuffs reminded him of the dangers presented by Inheritance of the Mists, but the lesson was undermined by the fact that he hadn’t passed out in the aftermath of his possession this time around. The forceful withdrawal of the Apparition had prevented him from being pushed beyond his limit, though with only slightly more than 1,000 health remaining after the mana storm, it was close enough. It seemed like it was relatively rare for the winner of a fight to actually be pushed to the brink of their health pools, but the power of the Lich had forced him to the edge.

Fifty stacks of the Haunted debuff lingered on his mana pool, reducing it by half, though it was empty anyway. The Delusion debuff was in place, preventing another cast of Inheritance of the Mists from being accepted, but both the Overburdened and Soul Burn buffs were already fading. Mental Transcendence, the buff that indicated he was possessed by something beyond his capacity, had disappeared, cleared by the fluctuations in mana.

Gazing across the landscape, the Yucatan settlement could have been confused for a modern day warzone after a series of bombing runs. The nearest smaller pyramids had been scattered to white and gray dust after the implosion, and there were leveled buildings throughout the grid of streets that had been unable to withstand the gusts. Fires burned here and there, sending smoke into the darkening sky and lights flashed where combat continued, completely encompassing the former settlement.

The main temple only remained due to its bulk. Rather than an organized monument to the Cult of Chakyum, it was merely a pile of stones, almost as though they were hastily dumped in the middle of the lake. If anything, it had grown larger after the implosion. Coop meandered his way across the lopsided surfaces, making his way toward the center with the help of his hands whenever he found a slab too steep to stumble across.

The actual battle between the Jaguar Sun and the Lich’s minions continued, barely pausing despite the dramatic conclusion of Coop’s duel. The Bone Titan, most notably, was going into a frenzy. It towered over the city, sweeping its elongated bones toward invisible enemies that Coop had to imagine were the Jaguar Elites that continued to harass the giant. Coop felt a twinge of regret that he was in no shape to contribute any further.

He pushed on, stumbling through the rain-soaked rubble of the temple to investigate the interior. He didn’t get the impression that the Lich was someone who would go through the trouble of selfishly building himself up on the backs of his companions only to selflessly sacrifice himself to defeat an enemy. Besides, Coop hadn’t received any levels for his death. He wouldn’t accept that he would go completely unrewarded.

Maybe it was the influence of his Revenant class descriptions driving Coop’s behavior, but he didn’t feel like his pursuit was complete and his goals accomplished. The leaderboards lacked the presence of the Lich, yet Coop wasn’t convinced of his defeat. Luc-Hau was the lone presence of Chakyum’s Cult, topping the leaderboards as the last living High Priest with more than 200 levels more than Coop. He groaned as he realized the Assassin was still in play as well. Between the Empowered Bone Titan, the last of the High Priestesses, and tens of millions of skeletal Acolytes, he could only shake his head.

This was the Siege Event all over again: an unending gauntlet, except with the roles of himself and his allies reversed. Instead of being on the defense, they were on the offense. The impetus for the conflicts were different, but the end result was effectively an all-out war each time.

As Coop climbed across the rubble, he considered how the source of the conflicts had been cardinal sins. The Primal Constructs inherently demonstrated greed in their attempt to take the entire planet. The Lich had been a glutton, gorging himself on experience and power, selfishly pushing himself to the top without any real consideration of his allies. The Sapphire Armada’s attack on Ghost Reef could be an example of envy, and the Endless Empire’s Chosen had exemplified pride up to their downfall. He blew air out of his nose as he concluded he was probably the best representative of sloth, but the smirk forming on his face faded as he considered they still needed to face mana’s wrath. He shook his head, deciding to keep an eye out for lust to complete the set.

When Coop found what had once been a staircase into the interior of the pyramid, it was more like a collapsed mine shaft. He had to shift chunks of damp stone out of the way to make any progress at all. Coop diligently burrowed into what had been called by the other High Priests as the Grand Tomb, fighting off the desire to rest, unsure of what he expected to find. The corner of his mouth twitched as he rather optimistically considered treasure. He wasn’t above doing a little tomb raiding, but he felt he was much more likely to find traps. His steps slowed as the thought induced caution. Coop moved as carefully as he could.

Eventually, as he went deeper and deeper, he found something. Green tinged light flickered from behind collapsed stone pillars, casting long shadows into the shaft that he descended. Coop followed the light, quietly slipping through the gaps until he discovered what might have been designed to be an actual burial chamber.

He paused to observe, listening to the sound of earlier rain drops percolating through the cracked stone. Stone rumbled as it settled and collapsed elsewhere within the structure, but his immediate surroundings were quiet. He didn’t find an easy way inside the chamber, but he also didn’t want to make a commotion to create an entrance only to run headlong into an ambush.

As he peered through the cracks in the rubble, he thought it seemed empty. Nothing moved inside, leaving even the air completely still, so he went ahead and muscled his way in. Lifting stones and sliding them out of the way, he spent a few minutes clearing a small path. The boulders dropped with solid thuds that loosened smaller pieces and sent clouds of grit across the ground. Physical labor had become a habit in the aftermath of major fights, and Coop found that moving around helped him ignore the aches in his body.

The chamber opened up slightly as he cleared an entrance hall, covering himself in dust that stuck to his damp skin. He stood for a moment, considering the dimensions of the room when frail, wet coughing drew his attention to a boulder near the back, closer to the source of light. His first thought was that he found a surviving captive and he rushed forward to help. As Coop rounded the stone, he found an unexpected occupant in an obviously fragile state.

[Oathbroken Human (Level 437)]

[Deathstalker (Agility)]

[Corrupted (Cursed)]

The Deathstalker coughed as she weakly shifted to glance at Coop. “Ah! You’re here.” She stated feebly. She clearly wasn’t long for this world. Her lower body was pinned beneath the boulders that had collapsed inside the room, her face was a mess of bruises, and what had been her uninjured arm was bloodlessly cut above the elbow while the other injured hand half heartedly pushed on the boulder to relieve some small amount of pressure from her legs.

“I am.” Coop confirmed, doing his best to hide his own weakness. He wondered what had caused such a clean shear to her good limb, not able to attribute it to any of the Jaguar Elites. “What are you doing here?”

She coughed before desperately swallowing, doing her best to get the words out. “Isn’t it obvious? I tried to destroy his phylactery.” She glanced deeper into the room, behind piles of stone that obstructed the source of the light. “I thought I’d have to do it.” She coughed and grimaced. “I didn’t think you’d catch onto his backup plan, but it is no use. It’s shielded by his death magic.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Coop feigned confidence while keeping his distance. “What about you? Should I get help first?”

A sinister smile crawled across her face before a bloody cough ruined it. “Help?” She feebly laughed. “Put me out of my misery before you make sure my former Master is dead for good.”

Coop frowned at the suggestion. He walked past her, shifting stones to confirm that there was an object that could be called a phylactery floating within a green orb on the other side of some rubble.

“I’m about dead anyway.” She continued. “Breaking the Oath comes with a steep cost, but I’ll still become one of his minions, and I’ll go feral once you eliminate him.” She sighed in a way that reminded him of the Elite High Priestess before she became the Void Queen, contenting herself with her fate. “Do it first. I want to keep what little is left of myself.”

Coop turned back to her, uncomfortable with the suggestion, even while he summoned an ethereal weapon. He couldn’t help but be disappointed with the sheer wastefulness demonstrated by the Cult as his reliable spear solidified. With her skills, she was a powerhouse, but the Lich hadn’t seen her as more than a chess piece that was slightly more useful than a pawn.

“I died on Day 3.” She added sadly, recognizing Coop’s hesitancy before closing her eyes. “I made a deal with that devil. Make sure he’s dead for good so that we can be free.”

Coop used his spear for leverage, struggling with his own feebleness as he shifted the boulders away, ignoring her final wish in order to see if he could rescue her first. Madison could remove curses, so maybe she didn’t have to die. If nothing else, she could probably answer dozens of questions regarding the Cult’s machinations that might help Ghost Reef develop even stronger defenses.

“What are you doing, you bastard?” She complained, picking her head up as the boulders rolled away. “Get it over with!”

When Coop revealed the rest of her body, he knew she was right; there was no helping her. It seemed as though the curse was chewing through her flesh. From her waist down, she was already a skeleton and black veins of corruption painted her torso, rising all the way up to her neck, hidden in the shadow of the stones. Unless they were already in the ritual chamber back on Ghost Reef, he didn’t think she had any chance at all, even with the help of mana.

Coop scowled, aiming his spear to make it quick. “Sorry.” He muttered sadly. Even though she was an enemy, he took no pleasure in the circumstances that led to him defeating her.

“I’ll best you in the next life, so you better be ready.” She stated confidently before he completed the unfortunate task.

The rubble-filled room was lit in the heavenly light of him receiving just two levels. Another puff of black smoke drifted across the room, passing through the gaps in the broken wall before entering the phylactery’s display case. He followed the trail.

Coop shook his head and tried organizing his thoughts, but ultimately concluded that there was just too much he didn’t know about their new reality. He didn’t dwell on the death of a rival for long, shifting his focus to destroying the phylactery that she had pointed out. The job wasn’t done.

He pulled the last few stones out of the way with a scowl on his face. It wasn’t the treasure he hoped to find, but it was definitely worth delving into the interior of the tomb to destroy. Coop would wrap things up with a neat little bow.

The small object that represented the Lich’s effective immortality hovered within a malevolent dome of greenish death mana. The substrate was only a few shades darker than his own ethereal mana, demonstrating how close his mana was to the Undead on the gradient of affinities. 

Coop didn’t rush into trying to destroy the thing, first carefully observing its housing. If there was a place for a trap, this was it. All of his trap detecting diligence had led to this point. The surface of the orb writhed with black-tinged energy while the inside swirled like a thin liquid that promised death. 

Inside the bubble, the bones of an entire human finger slowly rotated as if on display, floating in the liquid containment. Coop could see it slowly absorbing tiny amounts of the black smoke that was expelled by so many of the Cultists, swirling within the display. The Lich was obviously patient and hoped to have time to resurrect himself in the long term.

Coop tapped the sphere with his spear. He anticipated the exterior to be solid, like the shield he had contended with while fighting the Lich, and he wasn’t disappointed. The tip of his spear rapped the edge, finding it to be surprisingly flexible. He pressed a bit harder, testing to see if he could puncture the outside, and to his surprise, the tip of his spear passed through the exterior membrane.

He reflexively pulled his spear out as the tip started to fall apart, as if it was undergoing eons of erosion in seconds. Coop’s spear was chewed away, revealing a clean cut that matched the Oathbroken Deathstalker’s arm. She had evidently tried to stab the bone and lost both her weapon and her limb, betraying Chakyum while Coop fought, then the destruction of the civilization shard had caused a collapse that pinned her while she was cursed.

If he wanted to have more success, he needed something that could continually regenerate while inside the housing. He only had one ability that could actively withstand attrition with his own input of mana, but it was Fog of War. There was no way he could make his obscuring domain destroy the ivory bone inside the protective container.

Coop tossed a few pebbles at the orb, hard enough to penetrate the membrane, and they were dissolved even faster than his spear. It didn’t seem to matter if the orb was invaded by manifestations of mana or physical objects predating mana’s activation. Coop toggled Vaporform on for a few seconds, utilizing a portion of the limited mana he gained from leveling, passively regenerating since the end of the fight, and Reaping from the Deathstalker. The shielded display practically seared his mind as he inspected the phylactery’s housing. He turned his ability off, not finding any quick answer to breaking into the seal.

Then again, he had an idea. It was stupid, but so were most of his ideas. In this case he knew it was clearly dumb, but he decided to give it a shot anyway, perhaps with exhaustion clouding his judgment. He accessed his previously discarded skill options, concluding that if he had been willing to take one in a rush to defeat the Lich, he might as well use one to follow through.

However, he paused as he discovered something important had changed. Rather than the Path of the Mistweaver, Path of the Battlemage, and Path of the Ethermancer being associated with each of his choices, every single skill would put him on the same path. It was a new path that hadn’t appeared before. The Path of the Abyss had become his only option.

“Huh.” Coop grunted, surprised that such a change was even possible.

A brief investigation revealed that the Deep Dweller had granted him a new title called ‘Favored’ when it gave Coop its approval. The title was then consumed in order to enhance his options, a bit like the Vanquisher title that had certified his qualification for skill upgrades at the beginning of the Path of the Mistwalker. Supposedly, Charlie had experienced something similar before they parted ways, but he had never heard the details.

Coop frowned, unsure if trading his previous options for the Abyss was a good thing, but when he gave it a second to sink it, he grew excited by the idea. The abilities the Deep Dweller had granted him might be a hint toward what was to come, and more importantly, they had all been Mind-based. Coop thought it might be a suitable path for him after all, even if the thought of the Apparition gave him goosebumps. He nodded to himself, accepting the change for what it was and continued with his self-described dumb plan.

He selected Infusion, the skill that would provide him with a reservoir of mists that temporarily prevented the damage and negative effects of wounds.

Life isn’t black or white. It is shrouded in gray.

Coop was struck with the sensation that something had fundamentally changed when he chose the skill, something far beyond simply adding another ability to his arsenal. He blinked, swallowing nervously as he opened up his Status. He immediately closed the window, realizing that he didn’t have time for it. The fact that the reservoir of mists that fueled Infusion was equal but distinct from his mana was enough. The tears in his skin were protected by the new mists, forming like tiger stripes where he had over exerted himself while under the influence of the Deep Dweller.

He stepped up to the floating phylactery and shoved his hand into the shield of death. His fingers penetrated the surface, then his hand, his wrist, his forearm, and his elbow followed.

They disintegrated in the same order. He felt no pain at all, but that didn’t stop him from breaking into a sweat and clenching his jaw so tight his teeth audibly whined. In fact his arm felt better than ever, but his mind screamed in imagined pain. The outline of mists matched his perception of his body so smoothly it was like nothing had happened. He watched as the misty skin was continually replenished by his reservoir even as the death magic fought to be rid of the invasive object. Two different affinities competed with each other to control the mana, but Coop’s had more fuel in reserve to begin with.

A fist of misty fingers wrapped around the bones, and he firmly squeezed, crushing the phylactery into dust. He imagined an agonized voice screaming, “No!” before it quickly faded away into nothing, fast enough to have been his mind playing tricks on him. The orb flickered off and Coop glowed with even more levels, bright enough to paint the interior of the dark pyramid white.

Coop stumbled backwards, dumbfounded at his own actions, staring at his ghost hand. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, noting that the reservoir of mists had barely diminished.

“Madison can fix it.” He promised, sure that it was true considering he had already witnessed her regrowing limbs in the past.

He wanted to lay down and rest right there in the darkness of Chakyum’s Grand Tomb, but there was no time to relax, considering the battle that raged on outside. He left the tomb behind, slowly climbing back to the surface, stumbling as he sought the fresh air in a feeble ploy to keep moving. Coop needed to help the Jaguar Sun.