Chapter 201 - Book 4 Epilogue - Dim Tidings (Patreon)

Dagris Le’Furiette

Dagris and Dominus flew side by side toward the colossal Graymin King. Channeling poured a ludicrous quantity of mana and elemental energy through their bodies. Their attacks erupted outward simultaneously, washing across the skies and bathing the perceivable world in hues of orange and ultramarine. The Framework (or Fabric as they called it) was instantly vaporized, rupturing the threads that held together the tapestry that was the surface of Madra.

Dominus’ bolt of lightning was fifty meters thick and packed with enough current to power a civilization for a hundred years. It raced toward the beast's side, but not before absorbing and integrating Dagris’ inferno of equal devastation. The King either had no means to avoid their combination or simply didn’t deem it a threat, and the moment of impact came and went with little fanfare; their attacks containing forty percent of their mana merely caused a wave to spread across the deceptively thin layer of clouds covering the monster’s hide.

Before even confirming if they had managed to hurt it this time, the two retreated with the aid of their respective aspects. The King’s response to their audacity was a hundred, man-sized fissures that opened across its body, each releasing an invisible ripple of force capable of shredding elements, aura, and mana-imbued defenses with equal ease. Getting hit by even a single one would necessitate regenerating their entire body which was an unacceptable drain on their dwindling mana. But the worst part about the King’s close-range attacks wasn’t their power, it was their ability to relentlessly track down its targets.

Mesalay Teleported between the beast and her allies. She released her charged-up aspect and her body rippled as one hundred copies of Dagris and Dominus raced out of her, flying in random directions. The king’s attacks veered off course, chasing the phantom emperors through the skies and annihilating them without fail.

Mesalay signaled with her aura in a complex series of taps, alerting them that her mana was nearly depleted. They retreated far to the northwest, where the endless horde still continued their headlong march toward the empire. They blended in, hiding within the ranks of the beasts using a mix of aura and elemental techniques. 

Dagris fumed in frustration, “This isn't working,” He located a tier nine with his aura and pulled the helpless creature through the fabric of reality. It appeared with its neck already firmly in his grip and he casually sunk his other hand into its chest. He withdrew the limb, releasing a geyser of blood before unsheathing the dagger Jiran had made specifically for him and shoving it into the fresh hole. The small blade shone with an ominous emerald light before the creature's mana rushed through it and into him.

“That barrier must have been made by a higher-tier beast. We've pumped enough damage into it to kill a tier eleven fifty times over and it's shown no signs of weakening,” Dominus fingered his own specially made dagger, waiting patiently for Dagris to utilize his aspect and bring him a beast to drain as well. He scowled, remembering when Lostrifar had finally handed over the incredibly valuable tools after being pestered about her glove. Supposedly, Jiran had claimed they wouldn’t function indefinitely so they were doing their best to make each recharge of their mana count. Something that would have sounded absolutely ludicrous only a few hours ago.

Mesalay was the only one of the three out of breath; utilizing her aspect to such a degree having taken its toll. Her words were spoken between steady but quick pants, “Killing it was never part of the plan. Apparently, it being significantly weaker than the last one we fought doesn’t matter since it has that blasted barrier.”

Dagris cringed, speaking quickly as he dragged several tier nines to his party, “As much as I loath to admit, I have to agree with your initial assessment: This truly is a completely different King. In every regard, it is inferior to the one we faced long ago. While possible it is injured in some way, I very much doubt it. The Graymin are much more terrifying than we ever wished to believe.”

“Rather than focus on the horizon, we should deal with the beast at our walls,” Mesalay chided in an attempt to bring the contemplative Dagris back to the more important aspect of the conversation.

Dominus nodded, his voice a touch sulky, “Too bad cutting it off from the filth didn’t have the desired effect. I really thought that was going to work. At least we learned that’s how to make it stop spawning beasts. Looks like Jiran’s theories have some weight to them. I’m really starting to like that kid.”

“Ugh, enough about the boy. You’re worse than an academy first-year with a crush. If we’re in agreement to cease our attacks, let’s attempt to convince it to head further nor—”

A deep, thrumming rumble preceded the ground heaving beneath their feet. The air quaked as well, in a bone-rattling, mind-numbing way that instantly caused headaches to bloom behind their eyes. Dagris and Dominus both stared at Mesalay, waiting impatiently for her input without saying a word. In a fight at their tier, every instant could prove to be precious beyond measure and neither dared to speak when their scout had information to relay.

Her eyes closed as she connected with her copies, searching diligently for the source of the thundering, “They have revealed themselves at last. Eight tier nines and an old friend holding a formation that has more mana inside it than I can perceive.”

The three of them immediately understood the implications of her short report. They had long since wondered where Palo and Loro’s mana went. Their best theory was that the two somehow used it to keep the madness at bay. To learn they had been secretly charging a formation all this time was disheartening and confirmed their worst concerns.

The fact they had multiple unknown tier nines was more of a shock. Truly only one touched with insanity would dare dig in search of tier seven beasts. And digging was the only way they could have found them. Divination could not reveal the locations of beasts more powerful than oneself, and the strongest creatures that appeared below the surface had auras with unfathomable ranges so the possibility of stumbling upon a tier twelve or higher was not just high, it was nearly a certainty. That the voicers had pulled it off and kept it a secret was nothing short of miraculous.

Mesalay’s eyes widened when she saw the look of determination that crossed Dagris’ face. She was only quick enough to relay three words before he vanished in a Teleportation, “Don’t touch it!”

Dagris’ Aspect of Inexorable Advance mingled with his skill to pull him much further through the fabric of reality than the others could travel in a single jump. He had always been fascinated by Teleportation and his aspect embodied that obsession. The King noticed his return but at that moment, neither cared about the existence of the other; their focus wholly dominated by the new sun shining several dozen kilometers away and far outside the range of a regular Teleportation. Mana Sight revealed what Mesalay had seen before, and Dagris had to agree with her assessment of the formation; it truly was releasing an unfathomable quantity of mana and didn't show any signs of slowing down. On the contrary, with each passing microsecond, the energy it released increased exponentially and he estimated there were only a handful of seconds left before it became unstable.

Dagris poured mana through his tap and into his aura where it empowered his aspect. Existence contorted, making his desires the new reality, but what he was demanding this time was truly beyond the norm. The Fabric shuddered and tore but over and over again he forced it back together with pure will. His mana drained at an alarming rate, nearly reaching fifty percent while the new sun split, appearing both before him and in the distance as if it couldn’t decide where it ought to reside.

The King wasn’t idle, opening the last two of its eyes and unleashing a combined devastation toward the southeast that would surely result in massive casualties within the empire. The immense wave of energy swept through the region and smashed into the power being released by the portion of the mysterious formation still in its original location. The visible world oscillated in bending and twisting waves of light as artifact and beast battled for supremacy.

Dagris roared, releasing most of his mana and fury at the foolish bastard who had taunted the beast, causing it to fire toward his home. All aspects had the ability to reshape existence, and his once more proved its worth when it pulled the dangerous formation and its half-dead wielder’s neck directly into his strangling grip. The remainder of the King’s attack blasted through the now-empty region of land, annihilating every landmark in its path as it swept out of sight.

Dagris crushed the man's throat, even as recognition narrowed his eyes, “Thomrik, how did you survive? Not that it matters, the formation has already fused with your body. Too bad Lostrifar won’t have the opportunity to kill you again.”

Thomrik’s opaque, vacant gaze, ruined larynx, and limp form were all evidence of his inability to respond. The waves of energy being released by the egg-shaped formation half-buried inside the man’s chest were rapidly eating away at Dagris’s body and with most of his mana used up to drag it several times the distance of a normal Teleportation, he was left nearly defenseless. He spun to face the King, desperation and conviction suffusing his being. They locked gazes; two human eyes and a hundred bestial orbs staring off, both knowing that what was coming next could be their end.

The beast roared, releasing a shockwave in every direction that so thoroughly destroyed the world, that only darkness remained in its wake. Mesalay arrived at Dagris’s side at that very moment. She came in hot, riding a blazing wall of force. One of her boots impacted his chest, sending him flying away so quickly that he appeared as nothing more than a shooting star in the sky. She grabbed the dying Thomrik and pulled him into a tight hug before they Teleported.

The two reappeared in the dark nothingness between the expanding shockwave and the King. Several of its eyes widened in realization but Mesalay didn’t give it a chance to escape. She plunged her hand into the egg, her flesh evaporating up to the elbow. The King roared again, but the damage was done and even as the egg ate away at one arm, she used the other to give the beast her best two finger salute. Then, an explosion beyond anything the empire had ever seen wiped away everything within two hundred kilometers.

It took nearly an hour for the Framework to patch itself back together and restore that section of the planet. Had anyone still been in the area, they no doubt would have been shocked to see the King pulling itself across North at a miserable pace. Only one of its mountain-sized limbs remained, and in the furrow created by its wake, a river of blood flowed.

- Present Day - City of Firandel, Capital of the Remalon Syndicate

Selaine walked into a chamber several hundred kilometers beneath the ground. Every centimeter between her and the surface was made of mana-laced composites and formations designed with a single purpose. Even she would have a hard time cracking through them to escape, assuming she was in optimal shape. The man she arrived before, was most certainly not in optimal shape.

Her heartless gaze settled on Kaprokka’s broken body. He was strung up inside a powerful central formation in the shape of a large circular gate. Spatial fluctuations produced from thousands of surrounding subsidiary formations combined like spokes in a wheel, trapping him in place and constantly tearing his body apart while controlling his mana against his will to expel massive quantities of itself to keep him alive. Thousands of her worshippers hid on the surface, feeding energy into the formations and prolonging his suffering.

“A Remalon, held at bay by a mere fifteen thousand slaves. Pitiful. Disgusting. Millions are dead already, due to your negligence,” She spat, raw disgust marring her otherwise perfect features, “Tell me where the abomination is so we can be done with this nonsense. Or do you truly intend to remain here until you die? We are not so common a breed that your violations are unforgivable. Tell me what I need to know and you may retake your rightful place among your brothers and sisters.” Looking down at him, Selaine was almost proud. Only a Remalon could withstand such torture for even an hour without going insane.

Karprokka’s coughed laughter splattered the stones crimson, “Millions dead? Why, you sound downright apoplectic. I never realized the reaper of souls had room in her heart for her subjects. Or has your little war turned so poorly that its beginning to affect your sensitivities?”

Bastard! A hundred cities and a dozen carefully manicured species consigned to history. Poorly, is beyond an understatement and we Remalon are far too few to cover all our lands. Though, it is not all your fault, little Kaprokka. This shitsoup has been long in the brewing.

She laced her voice with a perfectly calculated quantity of compassion, “Of course I care, how long have we spent building our home? Why would I want to see it tarnished? Especially over such a simple misunderstanding. The Remalon have no weaknesses, the divinators confirmed it, yet still they throw themselves at us. It is a shame, but it can all come to an end, tell me where the abomination is and all will be forgiven and return to how it was.”

Half of Kaprokka’s body sagged as if the bones had been removed from it. He quivered as the debilitating injury was regenerated. He looked up once more to meet her pitiless gaze, “As I suspected, you only care about the perception of our dominance,” He shook his head, the motion releasing fresh misery within, “I’m not telling you where he is, but you shouldn’t let that stop you from releasing me.”

Despite honestly trying to maintain her facade, Selaine threw her head back and guffawed with great heaving bellows, “Oh this should be good. Do tell me why I would free you with nothing to show for it?”

Desperation tinged Kaprokka’s voice, for he truly would die if he stayed there much longer, “I told you he was the lowest tier evolved I’ve ever seen. What I… possibly forgot to mention, is that he was only in the fourth tier, and when I left, he was already absorbing challenger density.”

Selaine’s brows furrowed and her lips scrunched in confusion, her thoughts unable to comprehend Kaprokka’s motives, “Why protect him all this time, why go through all this torture if you knew he was going to die in the arena?”

“You are far too wrapped up in your own little world, Selaine. I didn’t tell you, because he might succeed.”

“Impossible!” She scoffed, “I’ve personally trained tens of thousands from birth and not one has ever survived the tier four trial. No, that arena has never been cleared and never will,” She bobbed her head side to side for several painfully long seconds before nodding slightly, “Very well, since he is doomed, and the secret of our supposed weakness will die with him, you are free to go. I expect you to report to Milesandrai, she is at Roofelien Pass exterminating the rebels in the Lower Tarnick. You will be monitored and suppressed until Thoric deems you worthy once more.”

Kaprokka fell against his restraints, both ashamed and relieved, “So be it, I will comply.”

Selaine’s grin was predatory. She tutted, looking down at him with satisfaction, “Of course you will comply, we’re a happy little family, after all.”