Last night, DeSean drank a second health potion while inside the back of the truck’s cabin. He felt like he was finally slipping away from the embrace of death and into the world of the living.
His ribs hardened where they had been tender. The ooze slipping from his dismembered limb cleared, lessening his worry that a terrible infection that would completely eliminate him. All of his scars sealed completely, but when he felt over them, they weren’t gone away. His mugshot came with the addition of scar tissues streaking down the left side of his face, from his brow to his jaw.
He popped open a Stamina Potion and downed it.
Stamina Potion (Basic Consumable) — A System-trusted product that restores some Stamina and provides a minimal amount of healing.
“Between the second health potion and that stamina potion, you should be okay,” Botany said, staying close to his right side. “Let me know if you feel anything weird. Dizziness. Upset stomach. A sudden chillness. Or unreasonable thirst.”
“Thanks, Mom,” DeSean grunted.
Botany jerked back and fell silent. DeSean wondered if his words struck harder than they should’ve. Ah, oh well, they weren’t in a situation where they could be completely kind about their words.
“The state of your health is more adequate now,” Princess Lylothia said from on top of Botany’s shoulder. She had shifted over once the university girl had agreed to owe the demonic bat a favor. Or should it be known as a Favor. Or a Favor.
Whenever Lylothia decided to cash those in, DeSean could only hope it aligned with all of their interests. Then again, when making deals with demons, always be prepared to do a little more than what was inside of your comfort zone.
“Fuck,” DeSean said. “That’s the closest I’ve been dead. And here I am, somewhat put together again.”
“All the medical geniuses around the world would drive themselves insane trying to make sense of this,” Art History said, plucking the empty vial for the health potion. He examined it closely. “Everything we know about our world has been turned into a fantasy, and only the mad works of artists can give us a sense of rationality.”
“Maybe we were living in a cave, eating cave fungi,” Botany said. “Then the cave gets opened from the outside, showing us there’s more.”
“Mm, allegory of the cave, a classic,” Art History said.
“Are we going to do some magic or are we going to wait around in here and play philosophy?” DeSean asked. “Hailey’s rotting in the rain. The enemy could strike at any moment. And Lylothia can only endure us for so long.”
“My Endurance is mighty, but I do prefer for it to not go wasted,” the princess said.
Botany rubbed her arms, shivering.
Art History pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and shared a few puffs with Botany. She offered the cig to DeSean, but he glared at it in response. They were delaying, and they all knew it. I got my arm cut off for this, stop pussyfooting and get to it.
But he refused to push any further. It was up to them to man up, or woman up, and get the show on the road.
“All right,” Art History said. He shoved his way out of the driver’s door and into a flooded ditch. Grass and ears drowning in rainwater surrounded him as he walked a circle around the truck before returning to the driver’s seat. “I think I can back it out in low-gear.”
After a few minutes of cursing, gear shifting, and getting stuck a couple of times, Art History worked the vehicle just right to reverse it out of the ditch and back onto the road. Pausing there, Art History looked over his shoulder at the others in the back.
“Should we, uh, go get your arm?” he asked.
“Oh, fuck,” Botany said.
“Might as well,” DeSean said. “Botany could drive the suburban, too. No point leaving that behind.”
They soon found the arm lying with most of the blood drained out of it. The fingers were curled stiffly, and the flesh already looked ashy gray. DeSean stood over it while the rain plopped down in heavy droplets.
“I won’t let this setback slow you,” Princess Lylothia decreed.
DeSean lifted up the nub at the end of his left arm. “Huh. I was always prepared for this to happen while in the Marines. Now that it has, I’m not too bothered. Maybe in the Marines, that would’ve ended me. I would’ve become a broken Marine. But now… it’s just another challenge to work around.”
Botany choked on a sob. “I’m… I’m—”
“Hold it in,” DeSean cut her off. “Who knows how much of that emotional energy you’ll need for Hailey’s burial. Concentrate on that.”
Botany buttoned up. They found a cooler in the back of the suburban and stuffed his arm in it. Maybe they could raid one of the homes around here for ice, but DeSean doubted they would go out of their way for it later after the burial was done. Once Botany was comfortable behind the suburban driver’s wheel, they continued their journey, leaving behind the fleshy goop that was once the monstrous bodybuilder Chosen.
DeSean rode with Botany, and she led the way to an off-road trail that wasn’t completely drowned. The soft, silt-like ground threatened to slurp the tires into a slippery situation, but Botany and Art History managed to work the gears and clear car-stopping traps.
When they reached the edge of the lake, DeSean felt something in his gut thrum powerfully, shaking him up from the inside. Botany shrieked, feeling the same thing no doubt.
Before they could speak on it, DeSean heard crackling static. A humid screen passed over the vehicle and its occupants, licking hotly over DeSean’s skin like exiting a dry, cooled area and entering a steaming jungle instantly. At the same time, a System Notification flashed in front of DeSean’s eyes.
You’ve entered Ozark Chaos Zone.
You’ve obtained +8 Free Od for finding your first Chaos Zone.
While in the boundaries of a Chaos Zone, Enlightened Chosen will be at a disadvantage. You may find one of six types of Chaos Challenges in a single Chaos Zone: Dungeon, Tower, Castle, Safari, Labyrinth, Court.
Each challenge is broken down into twelve circles, and each circle has requirements that must be completed successfully before having to climb, descend, cross, teleport in order to progress to another circle. The twelfth circle is a culmination of all the circles and contains the greatest of challenge and loot of the entire Zone.
You will find that you can die six times without consequence, your body returned to full health at the start of the circle you’ve died on. You may access the Zone Patron’s Master Suite six times for clues, trades, and boons until you complete all twelve challenge circles, then you may have unlimited access.
You’ve reached the First Circle of Ozark’s Safari Challenge. Recommended Od Level is 80.
You’ve obtained [Great Chaos Finder]—There are Seventy-Two Chaos Zones spread across your planet. You’ve found one within 96 hours from the start of the 13th System Revelation Cycle, an incredibly quick accomplishment. This increases your chances of surviving the oncoming doom for the Chaos Marked. In recognition of your merits, you’ve earned a permanent +10 Endurance and +10 Agility.
Reminder! Your Main Path is ready for Selection. Please initiate Selection.
“Sergeant, what am I looking at?” Botany asked.
“I don’t have the right words for it right now.”
DeSean exited the suburban. He touched down on a crystal-clear pond reflecting a purplish-greenish sky filled with streams of color like the northern lights. The mirror-like water stretched in all directions on a perfect level. Bobbing through the air were giant globs of a purple-pink liquid. Inside of each were dark amorphous shapes swimming around like goldfish in a round tank.
DeSean saw that the vehicles were perfectly flat, the tires leveled with his boots. Stepping around, rippling the pond’s surface, he found the level remained the same no matter where he walked, just a few inches above solid earth. Practically ankle-height. You would have to be a special kind of genius to drown yourself here unless you fell heavily unconscious.
Beneath that was a smooth, stony floor similar to bedrock. It wasn’t absolutely even, but he couldn’t find any trip hazards. You could walk around barefoot without too much worry, too.
Art History came up next to him, holding his hand out. “There’s no rain. Could it be that we’re in an alternate dimension?” He twisted around to look back where they’d come. “If I walk that way thirty feet, will that return me to our prior dimension?”
“Try it,” DeSean suggested.
“Don’t,” Botany croaked, joining them.
Art History hesitated.
DeSean gave Lylothia a look, but she ignored him in favor of examining the crystal-pond habitat. Going on a whim, the Marine traced their steps back the route they came, crossing thirty feet and—walk into a wall of rain that fell hard and straight. The lightning and thunder had passed, but the accursed weather continued to darken all of the lands around Lake Ozark. On top of that, DeSean had received a System Notification.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
You’ve exited Ozark Chaos Zone.
A strong weight in his gut pushed back, pressing against his spine in the direction of the Chaos Zone. Slowly, DeSean walked backward and reentered Ozark Chaos Zone like before, hearing the sound of crackling static while a humid film passed over his body. He returned to where the university students waited, finding Botany hugging herself as she looked everywhere away from Princess Lylothia’s watchful red gaze.
“Let’s go with this being an alternate dimension anchored in our world,” DeSean said, nodding to himself. “Let’s also assume a Safari Challenge is going to pit us against wild creatures if we venture deeper.”
“This is true.” Lylothia pointed a wing at one of the floating liquid globs. “That’s a basic monster carrier. Chaos Zones are a combination of Hell sorcery combined with the fauna of Skullos, changing animals into System-approved monsters used as part of the Cycle. They are aggressive if you approach their territory carelessly, but they will not seek you out directly unless you are Enlightened Chosen. It is here that we can have some measure of safety from the hand and foot of the Heavenly Tyrants.”
Just as she finished speaking, a human scream resonated across the area. DeSean looked far to their right and glimpsed a humanoid figure falling underneath a number of blobs about half the person’s height. Above them was one of the floating globs spewing more of those strange booger-like shapes. There was no way he could discern if that was a random Marked or a Chosen who fell prey to this place. He found it funny that this could be considered a safer place than what waited for them outside.
“There are a number of Marked who’ve entered here already, but they’ve come unprepared,” Lylothia said, answering the question on the identity of the victim. It would’ve been better not knowing, but oh well. Lylothia continued, “It is fortunate that the Od Levels of the creatures here are fixed, and cannot grow in personal power or Od. That would worsen your situation if that was the case.”
“Um, Princess?” Art History called.
Lylothia turned toward Botany. “I believe there is a creature speaking to me, but I can’t acknowledge this lowly thing. Perhaps you can interpret for me.”
Art History gave the demonic princess a flat look before facing Botany. “Dazzle, can you ask Her Most Gracious Highness if the Zone Patron is another princess of Seventy-Two Hells?”
Botany reinterpreted for the selectively deaf princess.
“Indeed, it is, or it can be one of her most trusted subjects,” Lylothia answered. “I, too, have a Chaos Zone, but it will be against Systemic Rules to bring the Summoner to my own zone. It is not against the rules for me to provide basic hints, though I will be selective of what I can answer for free or for favors. There are agreements among us princesses that keep us from meddling in others’ affairs unless they are a… rival. The ruler of this Zone is not of close relations with me nor a rival. It would be unwise to speak of deeper mechanics, or I would certainly cross her.”
“Can’t be that big of a deal,” DeSean said. “Just fight her and settle it.”
Lylothia grumbled softly. “I will not. She will destroy me.”
“Oh.”
An awkward silence passed until DeSean coughed into his remaining fist—ah, yeah, I’m going to need time getting use to that—and glanced at the truck’s bed. Hailey’s corpse waited to be buried in there.
“I’m ready,” Botany said quietly. “But… should we do it back out there? Outside of the Zone?”
Lylothia opened her mouth.
“DO NOT INTERVENE ON THIS DECISION, LESSER PRINCESS!”
An air-shaking, pond-rippling voice rang over them. It was so powerful, DeSean struggled to stay on his feet even with his new strength. The voice floored Botany and Art History easily. Lylothia’s little form was forced to flap up into the air and stay aloft until the university students picked themselves up again. Then the demonic princess returned to her perch on Botany’s shoulder.
“That… that wasn’t the System,” Botany croaked. “That’s the other princess. The Zone Patron. I’m right, aren’t I?”
Lylothia nodded slowly.
“Well, that was rather rude,” Art History said shakily. “Hopefully that’s not the start of an attack.”
DeSean was already on the lookout, and the nearest monster-blob carrier was hundreds of yards too far to be a threat. But his heart rate was up, and he didn’t feel right standing put out in the open and without more people watching his back like a squad.
We aren’t ready for this yet, and Lylothia’s only able to help if she’s allowed. At least she could explain certain aspects of the zone broadly, but it looked like important in-zone decisions were too much of a reach for her.
“Back to your last question, Botany,” DeSean said, “let’s try it here as long as our princess is allowed to teach elemental magic.”
“I am allowed this for it is not inconsiderate of the Zone Patron’s affairs,” Lylothia said demurely.
DeSean clenched his jaw. For some reason, he didn’t like his princess getting bitch-slapped into submission. It was a little early to have dogged loyalty like that, but despite her issues with his recklessness and selflessness, they were a part of each other. She was a representation of him, after all.
“So, let the lesson begin,” DeSean muttered.
While Lylothia spoke, she sounded unsure of herself at first, but once she got a few minutes into the latest lecture on magic, she sounded more like her confident, demonic self again. DeSean was glad to hear that as he took his time to help Art History with getting Hailey out of the back of the truck. With his newfound strength, DeSean could manage it with one arm if he had to, but this burial was not for him. This was for Hailey’s friends. It was for those who were here, and those who weren’t.
Meanwhile, Lylothia gave an incredibly easy-to-understand lecture on elemental magic. It basically came down to listening to the elements themselves and letting them show you the shape of their magical runes. The topic briefly touched on how Od was in all things, and all things, living or not, could give off energies split from the power of the Od they contained and manipulated. There were multiple energies other than just mana, but mana was the most widespread and most influential of the Od energies.
There were plenty of grimoires on the subject, and Lylothia revealed the nerd in her when she mentioned works written by scholarly princesses of the Seventy-Two Hells and some of the recognizable grand mages of Skullos. Of course, all of these name drops went over her current audience’s heads, and for the sake of the university students whose attention were starting to fade even with the increase in Focus, DeSean tapped the princess on the head.
“Might want to speak to us like idiots who’d never heard of these scholars and powerful mages,” DeSean said respectfully.
“Ah, yes, of course. My audience includes the artsy one.” Lylothia coughed into her wing and picked up where she had lost her audience, returning to the subject of concern and the practicalities of listening to the elements.
Because of Attunement's affect on energy sensitivity, feeling out the elemental message was consequently similar to listening to a piece of music. For the uninitiated, meditation in a strong magical environment seeping with certain elemental powers and the aid of a familiar teacher was sometimes necessary to first hear the melodies of elemental magic.
This didn’t include the System-recognized elemental spells that were widely explored and included automatically with certain paths, for those were Skills that were made easy to evoke like the turn of a key. But for someone to pull, push, and bend the elements with skillful control regardless of a System Skill would require them to have a finer understanding, a willingness to submerge deeply into the element’s makeup, differentiate its composition from one area to another, and have enough depth of mana to match the power that would be burrowed.
When dealing with the elements, one didn’t need to conjure from thin air when the power was there to be taken. In a way, Lylothia referred back to the truth of being one of the grandest of magic users: burrowing power wherever you could to have the greatest impact with the most minimal of consequences.
“Sounds like this is going to take hours,” DeSean said.
“It would normally take weeks for creatures of your ignorance,” Lylothia said. “But there are many advantages layered over you because of the Integration. Some I will not get into while here, but believe me when I say the botany female shall bring about a resting place for her comrade here with great success. I see… potential in this mortal.”
“Can I help?” Art History asked before cursing silently to himself. He was about to ask Botany to interpret for him when the princess cut him off.
“You can help, artsy one. Share your mana with the botanical female.”
Oh, wow, that’s a thing. It was like borrowing strong emotions from someone else to empower curse magic.
“Summoner,” Lylothia called. “You will kneel beside the botanical female, and use your energy sensitivity to feel out the process. Meanwhile, you will do as instructed, botanical female.”
“Y-yes, Ma’am.”
Lylothia had the girl knelt down, and DeSean and Art History did the same next to her. In front of them, Hailey’s form was laid on her back free of the tarp. Rot had started to settle in already, paling her flesh and stiffening the body. A foul smell wafted from her, bringing DeSean back to his memories from overseas.
“Concentrate, Summoner,” Lylothia snapped at him.
“Sorry,” DeSean muttered, pulling back to the here and now.
The princess returned her attention to Botany and Art History. “The sharing of mana is as simple as being aware of your mana depth, the field wrapped around you. Nudge it with your mind to give it freely, and grasp with your mind to take from those who are willing. You do not have to think hard to achieve this, and it should concern you most when you are certain of the shape and intent of your spell here.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Botany said.
“Understood, Princess,” Art History said.
“Now, botanical female, flatten your hands past the water and into the bedrock. Press as if you wish to merge with the bedrock. Let your mana extend itself through your hands, and from these extensions, your antennas, listen for the runic melody of the element. The song of the bedrock will come to you. Do the same, Summoner, and listen through your energy sensitivity.”
While the Marine had a higher number of Od in his Attunement, his mana depth was shallow from the fight. Still, he pressed a sliver of magic he had through his palms and into the bedrock. He concentrated, using more of his energy sensitivity than his actual perceptions. The latter was not useful here, for it was part of Focus, and that held sway over the physical world more.
Here, when addressing the magical world, the strange, extraordinary influence of Od and all its fragmented energies, Attunement was the most pivotal of stats. It might be the most important one overall, honestly.
With that sentiment, DeSean felt himself lending the nature of magic all credibility like he was once again a rebellious teenager trying to summon a demon to takeout his horrible parents. But in this case, he was being receptive to the song of the bedrock and….
Whoa, he could sense it. He could hear it. It was part of a cacophony of noises turned into colors and shapes, flinging eerie, neon-bright figures into his head. As soon as they appeared, they disappeared from his mind’s eye just as fast, sweeping away with the discordant noises of elemental magic.
He tried to mentally grab the runes so he could study them, but they continued to slip from his metaphysical fingers. In his frustration, he kept trying, and his failures became more drastic. It was as futile as trying to grab the wind.
Only when he heard a croaky, off-key song did he stop and relax. He didn’t know when he closed his eyes, but he cracked them open now to see a brownish-yellow light shining from Botany’s body. It etched Art History’s form in bright earthly tones and darker colors. A more subtle force like colorless gas wavering through the air flowed from over Art History’s body and into Botany’s body. That was his mana being fed into his friend most likely, but it paled in comparison to Botany’s magical glow.
“Do you see now, Summoner,” Lylothia explained, her little body surrounded by a dull pinkish-red light. She was feeding her own tiny fragment of power into Botany. “Elemental Magic is a power that’s all around us, ready to be lent to us rather than taken and thrown at one’s leisure. The System, and those who are more enthusiastic about its Active Skills, may lead you to believe that a wave of a hand and the spewing of Systemic Words is all that is needed for you to be master of the elements. I see its use for the everyday foot, but for you, my dear, I will not have you made a mere foot. You are to be grand, so let your mastery of the elements reflect more of your ability than what the System gives you.”
Just when the princess finished, Botany opened her eyes. They shone a brighter yellow than the aura blazing around her body. From her mouth came a wordless song that was strangely understandable to DeSean.
The song spoke of river stones, smooth pebbles, ravines carved by rapids, and the steadiness of countless stones holding up the water above and concealing water below. As soon as DeSean thought on it, the meaning behind the wordless song revealed itself as a runic symbol with rounded edges, multiple layers squeezed together, and a steadiness that was easy to grip, but incredibly sturdy.
Botany lowered her voice into a soft hum and straightened. Even when her hands came up dripping wet, disconnected with the bedrock, DeSean could feel that the connection of magic remained. With a dreamy look on her face, Botany splayed her fingers toward Hailey’s corpse.
“Please help me,” she moaned, “give my friend a good Tomb.”