Chapter 243 (Patreon)

Chapter 243

Queen Bez looked upon the ratkin woman she’d once called friend with only a mild amount of guilt, but that did not stop her from what needed to be done.  Even despite Rasthalia’s begging sobs, and fully knowing she was using Rashtalia as a scapegoat and focal point for her people’s rage, to maintain order over the angry masses.

She stretched out a blood covered hand from the crimson pool, cutting the ropes binding Rashtalia with a slim clawed finger.  The brood mother flinched but waited, hopeful, for her queen’s final decision.

“I’m going to think-miss on our time-places together, but your time-life has come to an end.  Be quiet-silent.” Bez lifted her hand and engaged her magic, and Rashtalia immediately snapped her mouth shut as the rest of her body went rigid - muffling her sounds to a silent, shaking sob.  Her lips still quivered and water continued to stream down her face from wide terrified eyes.

Bez turned to the bishop Prek.  “You may start-proceed.”

The bishop across from her in the blood pool nodded just once, as Bez’s hand fell to her side, and Prek’s came up.  Rashtalia stiffened and was lifted into the air face up while her body became flat as a board and hovered over them, before settling down just a foot over the bloody bath.  Strands of her remaining brown patches of hair drifted down gently around her, her breasts rose and fell faster and faster, and her eyes flickered back and forth to the six people looking down on her.

The other priestesses around the pool drew themselves in closer.

“Begin the ritual-rite.” Prek said without looking up.  The four priestesses all began to chant new verses in ancient tongues that they had memorized by heart, shifting their bodies forward in the waist-deep waters of the red and green bath under the light of numerous candles.  Each held their hands up and out above their heads as the verses continued rhythmically, and their dead, green eyes soon began to burn with unholy flames.

“The sacrifice-slaves, and all others-kin who call on the great winged rat, must be bathe-bathed in blood.” Prek stated, and the naked bishop flipped the palms of his skeletal, clawed hands over.  Rashtalia was immediately dropped into the pool and then brought back up via psychic power to hover a foot over the bath again.  Turning to look at Bez, he walked around Rashtalia and put a hand on the queen’s shoulder.

“May I have-take the honor of bathing-baptizing you, my queen-leader?” The bishop was reverent as he addressed her, and the sincerity of his reverence was apparent.

“You may-may.”

Prek let out a low hum, ignoring the gagged exclamations and sobs from Snagger and Mesha, and dunked Bez beneath the blood’s surface.  He let the warm bodily fluid engulf both of them completely for a couple of seconds before bringing Bez back up.   One by one Prek went to each of the priestesses and did the same with them.  Each time the woman would come up and begin the chant again as if she had never stopped.  Before long Prek submerged himself in the pool as well and came up dripping in the fine red liquid.

“THE SECOND!  THE THIRD!  AND THE FOURTH!”

The drums continued to boom.  The fire-drawn tapestry of flickering symbols about them rose several feet in height.

The same ritual baptism was then performed on each of the other captives, each of them going rigid and floating above the blood-filled bath to be dunked and taken back out.  Bishop Prek positioned each of them in a line, with Rashtalia first, Snagger second, Mesha third, and finally Riven as last.

Prek gave another signal over the thundering drums, and each of the four priestesses chose one of the victims - starting to carve sigils into their chests while three of the four started to whimper and scream through the magics restraining them.

The fourth though, he didn’t react at all.  Riven remained naked, hovering over the bath as the ratkin priestess cut deep into his ribcage and sternum with a jagged, rusty knife - not even blinking as blood continued to drip from the mana-suppression shackles, collar, and sigil already etched into his forehead.  His red eyes seemed unusually dull, as if his mind was somewhere else, and if anyone had been paying close attention to the metal bands that were supposed to be keeping his mana restrained - they would have seen the faint, deep purple cracks creeping along the metal.

“GREAT WINGED ONE, CHOSEN FATHER-KIN OF US-WE!” Bishop Prek screamed into the air as the priestesses finished carving the necessary sigils into the bodies of all four victims - each of the clergy coming back to the first of the four live sacrifices and surrounding Rashtalia while muttering chants under their breaths.  “WE ASK-SAY THAT YOU COME BLESS-HELP US WITH YOUR GIFT-POWER!  WE TAKE LIFE-LIVES FROM THE WORLD, FROM PANU-WORLD OF ELYSIUM, AND SAY-SAY THAT YOU COME-TRAVEL BACK THROUGH THE GATE-DOOR THAT BARS-STOPS YOUR GLORIOUS SPIRIT-SOUL!  WITH THESE SACRIFICE-SLAVES, WE GIVE YOU THE GIFT-POWER AND VESSEL-BODY TO POSSESS!  FIND US, OH GREAT WINGED RAT, COME-TRAVEL TO AID YOUR CHILDREN-KIN!”

Prek made an upwards motion with his fingers as he spoke and six ceremonial knives slowly rose out of the pool, blades down.  A blade went to himself, to Queen bez, and one to each of the four assisting priestesses.

Each of them grabbed the knife by the hilt, following Prek’s example and keeping the blades down against their chests with all of the women reciting the chant of the ritual outside of Prek’s own personalized call to the old-world god.  Bez chanted too, the words coming unbidden as a flare of unnatural, foggy green light erupted over the pool with dark brown eyes that glared through the veil of space and time.

She shuddered under that gaze, even if she could not fully see the god’s body yet, but the presence was certainly that of the divine.  The aura boomed and crashed down upon everyone present, and the roars for blood became weeping cries for salvation as the masses lifted their hands and began to worship the divine being.

But the ritual was not yet complete.

Bez just stood and watched amidst her chants, dagger against his bare chest, as a terrified, blood-covered Rashtalia shook uncontrollably under silent sobbing while she hovered in the air between the six dagger-holding participants.

“HEAR ME WINGED ONE!” Continued Prek enthusiastically, throwing his arms up towards the giant green cloud overhead where a figure of a huge, demonic rodent was taking a spiritual form ever so slowly.  Bat-like wings spread out far, taloned claws ripped out of its hands, and the torso elongated to unusual levels as the deep brown eyes grew wider and wider.

The chanting of the clergy matched that of the five women in the pool of blood and soon the entirety of the blighted crowds, spectators of the ceremony, were doing the same and shouting out the chants in a synchronous, excited, thundering roar.

“Come speak-talk with your chosen ratkin and deliver us-we into your power-cold embrace!  Let it be seen-known that I, Prek Zrof, bishop-kin and humble servant-worshiper to the old-world gods, am the one-kin the calls-summons you to me!”  The bishop lifted his dagger high above his head and looked down at the stiff ratkin woman laying flat over the pool.

The others followed suit, including Queen Bez, closing in to form a close circle around Rashtalia who quivered wide-eyed but could not speak under their gaze.

“Take this soul-slave as a sacrifice in your great-wonderous name, and let-see the calling be deemed-judged worthy-able of your presence!  TO ME, GREAT WINGED RAT, TO ME!” Prek paused only a moment to let the queen speak the final words.

“To me.” Repeated Queen Bez.

Prek let out a shrill high pitched wail, spit flying in all directions, and the six daggers swiftly descended to pierce Rashtalia’s flesh.  Rashtalia gasped involuntarily, her fingers balled up into clenched fists and her lips curled in a silent scream.  Bez felt the woman’s rib cage catch on the dagger before she withdrew it and stabbed her again.  He and the five others savagely tore or stabbed into her thighs, abdomen, breasts and face with a flurry of dozens of brutal strokes.  Prek was particularly boorish in his approach as he ripped into Rashtalia’s gut and pulled out her intestines in pieces and chunks.

Rashtalia’s mouth opened and closed and she coughed up blood just once before daggers pierced her lungs.  Her right bicep was carved off the bone and then her left cheek.  Then with her last dying, horrified and pain-ridden gasps she saw one of the priestesses cleave open her entire rib cage and pull out her heart with a wicked set of claws to hold it over their heads on display.

Then the brood-mother’s vision went black, and Rashtalia’s suffering finally ended.

Prek reached out at the moment of death amidst the cheers and chants of the demon hordes, plucking Rashtalia’s soul from her body as the limp corpse dropped unceremoniously - a destroyed bag of flesh, plunging into the blood pool.  The tiny light pulsed in his hand and he lifted it up to the level of the sacrifice’s heart, holding it there.

Waiting.

Yet, the visage of the god above them did not move.

Prek soon whirled on the priestesses with a snarl.  “THE SECOND AND THIRD MUST BE TAKEN!”

Without even a hint of reluctance the clergy all moved on, alongside Queen Bez, and began carving into Snagger next.  His body purged and his huge muscles spasmed while he was held in place over the bloody pool.  Tears streamed down his face and he gagged as his innards were ripped out, and his heart was eventually carved from his chest.

Mesha came next, and the small, petite ratkin woman didn’t last nearly as long as the other two of her friends had.  She died quite fast, and her limp body dropped into the pool with the two other corpses - their souls being plucked alongside Rashtalia’s own, with three little balls of light held in Prek’s hands.  Meanwhile the priestesses held up the three still-beating hearts of the undead they’d so recently sacrificed - bowing before the visage overhead while it stared down at them, contemplating.

The god’s visage stretched out a clawed hand, and the bat-like wings extended.  The visage moved its mouth as if speaking, but none but the bishop could hear the words it was trying to convey through whatever veil had kept it from traveling into Elysium’s multiverse since the integration.

Moments passed and the three souls suddenly shattered into a million pieces, soaring skyward.  The hearts each burst into flames.  A shudder, a ripple of power cascaded outwards from the place of sacrifices across the crowds.  An extreme sense of dread overcame all of them just as a large black hole opened up far above the ziggurat in the cavern’s sky.  It was so black that even in the dark of the cave - it was a stark contrast to the background.

More ripples of power commenced in quick succession and dark magic spiraled out of the black hole in a swirling mist of animosity that then settled upon the ground for the miles of space containing the amphitheater.  The energy shook Queen Bez to her very bones and it was all she could do to stay calm while he remained in place.  For the first time in a long time, she felt fear.

Then all was deathly silent.

Not even the splashing blood around her as she turned made any noise.  She tried to speak and nothing came out.  The wind, the chanting, the sound of drums were all gone.  It was as if she had gone deaf, and the confused looks of the others clarified that they were experiencing something similar.

“Hello, mother of Deepnest.  I have been expecting you.”

The voice was crystal clear, masculine, and drenched in confidence.  It rang out like a bell amidst the otherwise perfect silence and caused Queen Bez to whirl around to seek the source.  But she didn’t find it.

“Queen… Bez…” continued the chime as she felt a chill upon her skin.  “I am glad my bishop found such a willing leader to finally call me back from the grave Elysium had sentenced me to, as this strange system had deemed me as… unwanted.  How peculiar, I must say… but breaking through into this new multiverse was easier than I’d thought - given the help of my clergy.  And the help of yourself, for bringing such an amazing specimen to bind to, in the form of this vampire’s body… He will be the perfect vessel for me to possess after I devour his soul.”

The candles all winked out.

A tower of green flames then exploded downwards from the black hole overhead and condensed as it hit the platform right beside the pool of blood.  The heat was tremendous and Bez had to shield her face, though thankfully it only lasted for a brief moment as the god’s winged figure took a more solid form.

He stood tall, just like all the statues of old she’d witnessed in temples as a child.  Two large horns, one behind the other along his snout, protruded like daggers.  Long claws, a twin-set of tails, bright green fur and dark brown eyes.

The ten-foot tall ghostly apparition seemed unstable though, as if the god was battling… something… in order to remain in this realm.  He looked at his hand, bringing it up close to his face as all of the clergy around them prostrated themselves in reverence.  “I am the great winged rat, and I hear your plea.”

His aura exploded again and toppled many of the onlookers throwing some head over heels by the sheer blast of force - and his black wings lifted upwards to either side as he flexed his muscles.  “My body will not last long in this form, Elysium does not want me here.  It had left me as junk to be discarded… along with the rest of my pantheon.  But with this body…”

The god gestured to Riven, and the vampire’s bloodied, carved body shot upright and came to hover in front of the ratkin god’s spirit.  “With this man’s body… I will be able to scoop out the essence of his soul and replace it with my own.  After that… after I bring my brothers and sisters from beyond this realm into the new multiverse, I will work to alleviate and dispel the curse you have been afflicted with - my children.  You have all done well.  Prek… bring me the sacrificial dagger.”

The bishop immediately scurried out of the bloody bath and knelt before the visage, outstretching his clawed hands to present a wicked, curved blade that the god’s spirit picked up with one hand.

Bringing the blade up to Riven’s neck, and tracing the carved sigils and runes in Riven’s chest with his other hand, the great winged rat’s eyes narrowed.  “Your name… tell it to me, so that I may know the name of the man I have consumed.  So that I will remember it, as an honor to your memory.”

Riven’s crimson eyes began to dull, the light fading from them to the point that they didn’t glow at all any longer - and the god’s spirit frowned at the otherwise lack of response.

“His name-identity is Riven Thane!  He is king-leader of the undead-kin up above!” Prek quickly stated after realizing how the great winged rat was becoming irritated.

The god slowly nodded.  “Riven Thane… May your passing be as painless as possible, for the gift you are giving me - willing or not.”

The god sunk the knife blade first, and very slowly, deep into Riven’s sternum between a set of two pentagrams representing Athela and Azmoth.  Blood began trickling down Riven’s chest while he remained motionless and emotionless up until the point that the blade was buried all the way to the hilt - and then Riven's eyes turned from dull to a pitch black.

The god’s frown deepened, and it tilted its head to the side in confusion - matching Riven’s limp posture to meet the man’s eyes when Riven’s face began to smile.  “Do you find the end of your life to be… funny?”

The smile only spread further, and ends of Riven’s cheeks split open to make it even wider as it literally came around from ear to ear.  Musculature and bones were exposed and peeled back, and his vampiric fangs were joined by rows upon rows of similar teeth that began growing out of his jaws.

Then, Riven began to chuckle - still remaining as a limp doll in the grasp of the god’s power.  The chuckle turned into a laugh, and the laugh turned into a screeching, crazed cackle - defying the god’s spirit in front of him like there was not a care in the world.

Riven’s body abruptly shifted positions in space - closing the small distance between himself and the winged ratkin god by only an inch apart as blood began streaming out of his eyes and dripping down onto the floor below.  “Riven isn’t home right now!  But thanks for delivering yourself unto me so quickly, I’d been concerned you wouldn’t arrive in person!”

The vampire’s chest tore open into a huge, vertical maw as tendrils of darkness ripped out of his flesh - carving into the god’s spirit and beginning to pull it in as the great winged rat screamed in confusion and horror.  Riven’s shackles burned away as his Mark of the Sinner tattoo expanded to cover his entire body within a split second - inking etched, black, unholy tattoos into his pale skin while two enormous auras crashed in front of the ziggurat.

Queen Bez and the nearby clergy, including bishop Prek, were eradicated in an instant as the two powerhouses tore into one another.  The ratkin god struggled and flailed, using its ethereal claws to cut away dozens of tendrils while Gluttony continued to cackle.

Hundreds and then thousands of black tendrils crashed into the god’s spirit, digging and burying themselves into the ethereal body and burning, tearing, and ripping the ratkin deity’s soul apart while consuming it bit by bit.  Gluttony was eating the god alive, and he shuddered with ecstasy as the ascended spirit was eaten before the very eyes of its ratkin worshipers.

Ratkin that’d been on the periphery of the initial blast came racing ahead, horror and fury engulfing them as they tried to assist their would-be savior with screams of desperation, but these too were swept away with a mere flick of Riven’s hand - Gluttony’s tendrils ripping out of maws in the floor that devoured the ratkin in moments - killing them in audible crunches that left them squealing before abrupt and bloody ends as their bodies disappeared into the abyss behind each of those ravenous mouths.

Gluttony’s black eyes then turned upon the masses before him, growing a third, vertical eye of similar black down the center of his forehead, and the unnaturally large grin on Riven’s face ripped again as half of his head tore itself backwards to unleash a swarm of hungry insects that began tearing into the undead ratkin hordes.

Carnage erupted across the amphitheater.

The ratkin began to panic and scream as they began to drop like flies.  Their bodies were being eaten and torn apart in bloody displays like corpses through a grinder while still alive, in the most undead-sense of the word, and soon the entire amphitheater for miles saw more and more maws tearing through space to devour even more of the creatures.

Blood and bile sprayed.  Bodies were devoured.

Crowds trampled over their own as the blighted ratkin escaped through tunnels at the top or sides of the place of worship, or died trying to escape.

And the snapping, gurgling sounds coming from the semi-solid spirit body of the ratkin god ended with a loud *CRACK* when one of Gluttony’s tendrils found the soul core he’d been searching for.

The minor god shuddered, its form going limp, until it ceased resisting and was dragged into Gluttony’s maw with a series of crunching sounds.

Gluttony shuddered yet again as his swarms and maws continued devouring the fleeing creatures before him, and he reveled in the sense of being alive once again.

[System Notice: Elysium’s contractual agreement has been met.  As one of the seven Original Sins, you are being allowed another chance at life.  Per the contract:

• You will remain as a symbiotic organism to balance out your gluttonous tendencies
• You will have a nearly complete reset, losing over 99% of your skills, knowledge, and levels
• You will no longer be contained to the abyss
• The ones banished with you during the War of Eternum will also be returned to life, with a similar reduction of skills, knowledge, and levels as those you experienced
• Limiters on all other Original Sins, and the angelic Commandments, will be opened - allowing them to take the same deal you struck
• Should your symbiote ever die, you will be given the opportunity to start over again and choose a new one - but you will have another complete reset in doing so
• All Shards of Gluttony will be returned to you now that your banishment is being lifted, but remnants of your old power will remain in the harbingers you created during your attempts to circumvent my rules
• Any further attempts to circumvent my rules will result in another, permanent, banishment]

[Multiversal System Notice: To all creatures across Elysium, let it be known that the return of the Sins and Commandments is at hand.  The first of the seven original sins, Gluttony, has been unleashed from the abyss.  Other sins and commandments will be released from the abyss over the course of the next ten years as long as they are willing to abide by Elysium’s terms.  Let the Eternal War between the hells and heavens begin again, as the origins of angels and demons clash in the cosmos - unshackled, and unrestrained, seeking to return to the power they once had.]

[Your level has been set to equal the symbiote partner you’ve bonded to, and you now share a body with the symbiote host Riven Thane.  Experience needed to level up simultaneously with your host has doubled.  Your host has gained the title: Incarnation of Gluttony, Original Sin.  Your skills have been reset to 5: Hungering Clone Maws, Tendrils of Sin, Devouring Swarm, Devour Energy, and Banshee’s Wail.  All of your previously banished servants will start at level 1.]

[Both you and your symbiote host have grown to level 200, and have been stopped from progressing further into the E-grade until you each reach enlightenment.]

[Your symbiote host has taken the Number 1 Apex Rank on the Power Ladder of Panu.]

Gluttony immediately felt the presence of The Scythe, then The Blood God, and soon a plethora of other gods that numbered in the dozens, then hundreds, then thousands as the eyes of the multiverse shifted their attention to his position.

What vultures they were, feeding off the accomplishments and worshiping of those lesser than they.

Gluttony was nothing like them, and this ‘great winged rat’ - though only a lesser god - would not be the last of his kind that Gluttony devoured.

Licking the last remnants of the ratkin god’s semi-solid spirit off his chest, Gluttony banished their presences with a flick of his wrist.  He abruptly felt the change in his memories as Elysium forcibly tore knowledge of rituals, spells, miracles, and lore from his mind - causing gluttony’s face - or Riven’s face - to scrunch up in pain… but he let out an audible sigh of relief when it was done.

He was not angry.

He had been gone too long to be angry.

Gluttony could only be… excited, that he’d found someone as compatible as Riven to host him - and groaned with pleasure when shards of his soul began slamming into his soul aperture that was intertwined with Riven’s own.

He was going to be whole again, and it was only a matter of time before he and his symbiote grew into a power like he’d been once upon a time - long, long ago.

He could almost taste the fear of the angels even from here, in the dark depths of this backwater planet, and another low chuckle erupted from his lips as his massive soul encompassed Riven’s - beginning to feed Riven power with checks and balances on Elysium’s end coming into play.

One by one, portals began to form.  Those who’d been the strongest of his worshippers, his strongest minions, his strongest followers - they’d been banished with him during the War of Eternum.

They’d all been reset to level 1, but levels certainly weren’t everything when each of them had hundreds of body enhancements, perks, inherent buffs, titles, extremely high affinities, and natural strengths based on their racial aspects.

Dozens, and then hundreds of demons that’d once been banished to the abyss began walking through black gates and into the realm of the living.  They breathed their first breaths for eons, opening their eyes with hints of excitement and glee as they turned to face the one they called master.

“What are your orders, Gluttony?” a slender, multi-horned woman asked through a veil of shadows that encompassed her body - white eyes lighting up through the darkness as she bowed low - setting an example for all the others as they did the same.  “We are willing and able to serve, and are excited to be of use once more.  All hail the great maw.”

“ALL HAIL THE GREAT MAW!” The simultaneous chant from the hundreds of demons surrounding him called out in unison, from those big and small alike.

Gluttony was pleased.  He had nowhere near the amount of legions he’d previously controlled when seeking conquest over entire galaxies, or when invading the heavens in the sixth era, but the ones in front of him represented some of the brightest talents he’d ever had the pleasure of lording over.

He stepped forward, and placed a hand on the shadowy woman’s horned head.  “There is another by the name of Allie Thane… She has a quest gifted to her by the system, that guarantees Elysium’s protection from outside invaders.  The catch is that we will need to conquer 80% of the planet in her name by the time the system integration finishes… and I will be preoccupied with another world quest within the hour.”

He summoned Allie’s quest status information, but how and why he knew what her quest was… was now unattainable to him.  He’d received the information prior to having his mind stripped by Elysium, and was doubtful he’d be able to acquire personal quest information like this again anytime soon.

[New system quest dispensed:  Conquer Panu.  You have been publicly denounced by the Blood God as an Apostate, have angered almost every vampiric faction in the entire multiverse, and have already been marked for death on the public forums by numerous other factions across your planet.  Having instilled a deepest fear in the minds of the living, and having given hope to the sentient undead of your world, you are destined to be hunted down - or alternatively you will rise from the ashes of war as a hero to your people.  Will you and your kind be eradicated from Panu’s surface?  Or will you conquer this planet and claim it for yourself?  You have until the 5 year time limit of integration to take over at least 80% of this planet for yourself.  If you accomplish this, you will gain Elysium’s direct and absolute protection from outside invaders for an additional 100 years, will gain a shroud that stops other outside forces from scrying your planet’s location for 500 years, and will allow you to reposition your newly conquered planet anywhere within the multiverse a single time at the end of integration.]

The woman kept her head bowed.  “You wish for us to help her?”

“I do.” Gluttony stated simply, withdrawing his hand and allowing the woman’s bright white eyes to look up at him in admiration.  “Find this Allie Thane, help her accomplish her goals, and wait for my return.  Do not let her die, she is the sister of my symbiote host, and what pains him will also pain me.  There is also a dungeon called Negrada that we will assist to establish a foothold back in the hells... Allie will have more information on the matter when you find her.  Do this, and you will serve me well.”

The black tattoos covering his body flickered with black lightning for a moment, sparking twice more, then his three black eyes began to form crimson centers moments later.  Gluttony sensed Riven’s presence begin to settle in from the slumber he’d been placed in, and soon each of his eyes had a black sclera background with glowing crimson pupils.

The maw along his chest began to fade, and messenger was extracted from his soul aperture - along with Jackal.  A sigil of the great maw then appeared in a pentagram on his sternum, right underneath the pentagram sigils for Azmoth, Athela, and Fay.

He equipped both Messenger and Jackal next as Riven began to form consciousness, and then looked down at his bare legs with a frown.  “One last thing before I go.  Find me... some pants.”

“Some… pants, my lord?”

“... Yes.  Some pants.”

[1 minute until World Quest 2 proceeds with the sub event: The Altars of Despair and Hope.  Prepare yourself.]