[Notification]
Congratulations! Your Eldritch Nightmare title has evolved.
Title Name: Eldritch Sovereign of the Shattered Self
Description [Identification Lvl.10]:
You have transcended the boundaries of mortal comprehension, becoming the Eldritch Sovereign of the Shattered Self. Your mastery over eldritch forces and cursed arts now defies reality itself. Through the power of Vhorak’thul, you can fracture your essence, spawning perfect replicas that embody your malice and strength. As a sovereign of nightmares, your presence warps the minds of those who oppose you, leaving them broken before your overwhelming might. The void responds to your will, and reality itself trembles under your gaze.
Title’s Bestowed Enhancements:
- Sovereign Curse Potency: Your curses now manifest with overwhelming force, amplifying the damage and effects of all curse-based abilities. Enemies afflicted by your curses will suffer inescapable torment, with even the most resilient minds crumbling under the strain.
- Curse Ability Access: Grants you access to the Vhorak’thul, the Shattered Self ability, allowing you to summon an independent clone or vessel that mirrors your power.
- Shattered Essence Manipulation: The effectiveness of your ability to lend skills, abilities, and titles to your clone is drastically enhanced. The clone’s strength mirrors your own with terrifying accuracy, and its independence becomes nearly indistinguishable from your will.
- Voidborne Immunity: Your connection to eldritch forces grants partial immunity to mind-affecting abilities and curses, making you resistant to manipulation and mental debilitation. Even the most insidious mental assaults struggle to find purchase in your shattered consciousness.
- Nightmare Regeneration: You draw strength from the fear and suffering of your enemies. For every cursed enemy within your vicinity, a portion of your HP, MP, and SP regenerates passively, ensuring that your vitality is sustained amidst chaos. The greater their torment, the more you thrive.
[Notification]
Congratulations! You've Acquired a New Ability.
Ability Name: Vhorak’thul, the Shattered Self
Ability Type: Eldritch Summon / Vessel
Effect: Allows you to create an independent clone or vessel of yourself, capable of wielding your power with devastating precision.
Description [Identification Lvl. 10]: By invoking the eldritch power of Vhorak’thul, the Shattered Self, you fracture your existence to manifest a perfect or partial clone. This entity emerges with identical base stats—HP, MP, SP, defense, and offense—as the original, and can be lent specific titles, skills, and abilities. The clone operates independently, fighting alongside you, or it can serve as a vessel for your consciousness, allowing seamless control. Upon the clone's destruction, no permanent harm befalls you, and any lent abilities gradually return over time.
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- Independent Clone: The summoned entity can act autonomously, strategizing and adapting to the battlefield as though it were a second version of yourself.
- Vessel Integration: Shift your consciousness into the clone, using it as a secondary body with full control, while your original form remains dormant or hidden.
- Perfect Replica Option: Allocate all titles, skills, and abilities to create a flawless doppelgänger, effectively doubling your power on the battlefield.
- No Permanent Damage: The destruction of the clone carries no lasting consequences. Lent abilities and skills return to you after a cooldown period, ensuring your strength is never permanently diminished.
- Gradual Recovery: Stats, Skills and Abilities lent to the clone will return after a set period, allowing you to strategically manage your power between battles.
The world was silent and empty, with only two exceptions—the sight of those notifications and the echoing disbelief in his voice.
"How?!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with shock as my form just began to take shape—yet already, I was laughing maniacally at the farce.
Particles of energy that had once been scattered into oblivion started to coalesce, drifting together with purpose and intent. At the heart of this swirling maelstrom of power, a form began to take shape—my form. Wisps of ethereal substance twisted and spun, weaving into the contours of my body. Layer by layer, my physical manifestation was painstakingly reconstructed, from the bones forming anew beneath what would be skin, to the flicker of life reigniting in my eyes.
As I solidified, hovering in midair, my laughter broke the silence, maniacal and triumphant.
"Hahaha, you didn't expect me to die so easily, did you? Too bad, I'm back," I taunted. "From oblivion."
"How is this possible!" His voice cracked under the strain of disbelief, his body tensing as he prepared to launch another assault. But as his hands raised, charged with the beginnings of another deadly elemental attack, a dawning realization seemed to halt him. If an attack as monumental as the last was futile, what hope did any further aggression hold?
"How?!" he asked again, the anguish palpable in his strained tone.
It wasn't merely that I had survived; that much he might have begrudgingly anticipated—otherwise, he would have used both sigil and all his reserves to end me then and there. In his mind's eye, he had likely envisioned me shrinking the Obsidial Tree I manifested around us, using it as a shield to absorb the brunt of his attack. It made sense. It would have been the logical defensive maneuver—using the sigil to create a barrier robust enough to withstand, or at least mitigate, the impact. That would have left me in a state where I would conventionally be unable to use the sigil to undo the damage I sustain next.
So either I used the Obsidial Tree as a barrier, and he destroyed it—or at the very least, greatly damaged it—or I didn’t use my sigil as a barrier and just took that attack head-on, which would undoubtedly have killed me. Definitely.
A foolproof strategy. One that would have worked—no doubt—if I played under the parameters he believed I played.
The stark reality that faced him now must be a very bitter one to swallow: after his massive expenditure of energy, which had, in the end, amounted to nothing more than a spectacular but ultimately ineffective display, my unscathed form was standing as resilient as ever, mocking the futility of his efforts.
My smile only broadened in response.
"How, you ask?" I said, standing atop my spiritual sword, my voice laced with mocking sweetness. I spread my arms, reveling in the sight. "Simple, really," I said, reaching up to the crown hovering above my head.
"I am no monarch."