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August Intruder [Progression Fantasy]
NINETY-ONE: Anti-Christ Is Badass

NINETY-ONE: Anti-Christ Is Badass

Melmarc leaned slightly forward to look at Ark’s injury even though he didn’t have to. Ark called it a stab wound but what Melmarc was looking at was a massive scar. It would only classify as a stab wound if someone had run him through with a pole or something.

“How did you get that?” There was a touch of worry in Melmarc’s voice.

The injury looked old, though. It was nothing but a scar now. A massive scar that filled up the entire left side of his abdomen. It was a large circle that started just below his rib cage and ended less than an inch past his navel.

Then there were streaks of lines that extended from it. It kinda looks like a sun.

Ark moved his lips in contemplation. “There was a Chaos Run where we were.”

“What the hell were you doing near a Chaos Run, Ark?”

Ark was more than happy to cock a brow. “What were you doing inside a portal, Mel?”

Melmarc pressed his lips into a thin line. Ark had a point.

“Anyway,” Ark continued. “My mentor had to go in to save the day and rescue some people while the Delvers came to help put down the monsters. He wanted me to stay behind but I said that I could help.”

“Did you?”

“Hush,” Ark shushed him. “I know your brain has a billion questions at all times, but you’ll have to wait until class is over to ask your questions. As I was saying, he didn’t want me to help but he’d seen me suplex a bull without breaking a sweat and he needed all the help he could get. As long as I stayed out of trouble, I was good.”

“So you tagged along.”

“So I tagged along.”

Ark’s mentor should not have allowed Ark tag along. Like Melmarc, Ark was curious by nature. However, where Melmarc was curious about knowledge, Ark was curious about experience.

Melmarc saw a giant monster and his curiosity moved in the direction of wanting to know what monster it was, what its natural habitat would be like. He asked questions like how he could escape it, how fast it could move. The simple things.

Ark wanted to know if he could beat it in a fist fight.

That was simply it.

“And how did you get a hole in you if all you were doing was rescuing people?” Melmarc asked.

“That one was easy,” Ark answered, nonchalant. “We were being attacked by giant scorpion-like monsters. It got me with its stinger. Massive thing, this big.” He held his hands apart at a distance to emphasize the size. “Punched a hole straight through the other side.”

How is he talking about it like he just fell off a tree?

“You should see the look on your face.” Ark laughed. “Lighten up, its not like I died.”

“You’ve got a massive scar, Ark,” Melmarc argued. “You could’ve died.”

Ark shrugged. “Could’ve, would’ve, should’ve. Well, turns out Spitfire’s got some wicked healing factor.”

“We already know that,” Melmarc said.

When Ark had brought Spitfire home, it was always biting him. But despite how much blood was spilled with each bite, its healing factor was so strong that the injury was always already healed even before they got to clean off the blood.

Ark shook his head as he let down his shirt. “Oh, Mel. We had no idea. It bit me three times and this,” he raised his shirt to expose the scar again, “sealed up in minutes. By the next morning it was a scar again… though I think it bit me again while I was asleep. I can’t be sure.”

Worry colored Melmarc’s expression as a thought dawned on him. “Wait, you carried Spitfire out in the open where anyone could see it? I thought we agreed to keep it a secret?”

“It was a Chaos Run, and I needed all the help I could get. What did you expect me to do? I had to save people while giant monsters were running amok. Spitfire was a very good distraction. He saved a few lives, too.”

Melmarc turned his head from side to side, surveyed the room.

“Where’s he by the way?” he asked. Before their mentorship program, Spitfire never left Ark’s side.

Ark pointed at the bed. “He’s under your bed.”

“Why my bed?” Melmarc rushed to look under his bed. “What happened to yours?”

Ark shrugged as Melmarc went down on his knees to check under his bed. “No idea," Ark replied. "I think he’s just taken a fancy to under your bed. I’m guessing it’s because it’s clean.”

Ark wasn’t necessarily dirty, but he was the kind of person to ignore the back of shelves and tight spaces when he cleaned the house. In the room, he had the dirty socks and under his bed was always littered with his shoes when they had a perfectly functioning shoe rack that Ninra had insisted their parents get for them.

True to Ark’s words, Spitfire was happily nestled under Melmarc’s bed.

“Is that my shirt?” Melmarc asked, appalled.

Spitfire had wrapped itself in a green shirt so that only its face could be seen. In its mouth was also a blue shirt.

Melmarc frowned, looking up at Ark. “Are those my shirts?”

“In my defense, I didn’t give them to him,” Ark said. “He chose them himself.”

“And you didn’t take them away because…?”

“Because Spitfire comes in peace?”

“I should punch you.”

“You should try.”

Melmarc got up to his feet and dusted his hands. He sat back down on the bed with a small smile on his lips. With everything he’d gone through, it was good to be home. The annoying things, while annoying, weren’t so annoying right now.

I’ll probably lose my mind in a few days, he thought, maybe weeks.

But for now, he was happy with the normalcy.

“So,” he said when he was back on the bed. “You got that sorted out in two days and figured there was no need to go to the hospital to have it checked out.”

Ark shrugged. “All’s well that ends well.”

“Ark, you’ve got a massive scar.”

“I know,” Ark grinned. “Cool, isn’t it. I was talking to Uncle Dorthna and we’ve come to the conclusion that it will definitely help with my admission as long as I get into the interview phase for Fallen High.”

“How—” the question died on Melmarc’s lips as he thought about it.

If he knew his brother well, and Uncle Dorthna’s propensity for thinking like his brother when he wanted to, then he had a vague idea of what path they were following.

“The scar,” he said after a moment’s thought, “will be proof that you’ve been in a tough situation and come out alright.”

Ark nodded. “And there’s a part of the application process that is set up for medical conditions of any kind. Uncle D and I are thinking that I should submit the results of the therapy I had after the whole incident.”

“You had therapy after the incident?”

“Yea, my mentor said it was government regulations.” Ark shrugged. “Apparently, when a mentee like myself experiences high risk situations during their mentorship program, they’re supposed to have a therapy session. I was hoping to get something like an [Empath] for a therapist, like the one on dad’s team, but I just ended up with a non-Gifted. He was fun, though. Laughed at all my jokes. And I mean all of them.”

“You’ve got terrible jokes, Ark,” Melmarc pointed out. “If he laughed at all of them, then he was faking it.”

“Or he’s got good taste.” Ark adjusted on the bed as if he had suddenly become uncomfortable with his position. “Anyway, it’s the thought that counts.”

“Fair,” Melmarc conceded. “So what were the results of the session?”

“The same one you got as a kid.”

“A clean bill of health?”

Ark nodded. “What do you know, Mel? My mind’s now a steel cage. I’m unshakable.”

Melmarc wasn’t so sure about that. His therapist had basically told him something similar as a child, only for him to enter a portal and start thinking of punishing people who’d wronged him and negotiating punishments.

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He remembered when he’d been fighting Caldath and rather than punch him, he’d tried to bite him like some rabid animal.

Thank God for the summoned’s skill, he thought, if not I would’ve lost my head.

“Don’t put too much faith in it,” he told Ark. “Therapists aren’t always right.”

Ark laughed. “Of course I won’t. I’m just taking advantage of it and adding it to the application. It’ll solve the issue of if I can work well under pressure and how I handle and come out of stressful situations.”

“And then you’ll find a way to accidentally flash them your scar while you’re there so that they know that you’ve been through a lot and come out fine,” Melmarc added.

Ark nodded enthusiastically. “Yup. With proper manipulation, I’ll be a shoe in.”

Melmarc saw some logic in the plan. But it only worked if the examiners and interviewers were completely human, and by human he meant sympathetic.

He had heard about how Delvers didn’t really sweat the emotional stuff. They assessed what kind of benefit you would be in a bad situation, if you would be a positive or a negative. The fact that they assessed you as a potential Delver meant that they wouldn’t coddle you. They didn’t care if the situation was going to give you a mental breakdown, they put you through it, rescued you just before the breakdown, and informed you that you didn’t make the cut.

Melmarc wasn’t really complaining about it, though. There were schools that were nicer about their processes, but the top five Gifted schools were not one of them.

“But you actually grew, though,” Ark said suddenly. “I know I’m still taller, but wow. Talk about a growth spurt.”

“It’s only a few inches, Ark.”

“Almost five inches in two weeks isn’t just a few inches, Mel.”

“You grew, too.”

“That’s because I’ve got something called a Demonic trait. It's called [Optimum Existence],” Ark grinned. “What’s your excuse?”

Melmarc’s jaw dropped, and his brows furrowed in confusion. “Me, too.”

“For real?” Ark’s grin widened. “You’re joking.”

But he was already on the move, scooting over to Melmarc.

“I’ve got to see it,” he insisted. “How many percent are you on? Is it also Demonic?”

Melmarc acted without thinking about it, calling up his interface, zeroing in on [Optimum Existence] so that it was the only thing that popped up.

[Optimum Existence (03.05%)]

That’s odd, Melmarc thought.

He hadn’t used any of his remaining [EP]. And the last time he’d checked, the trait was at two percent. Between leaving the ruins of Caldath, going into the other world and coming back home, it had grown by at least one percent without any interference.

He was wondering how that had happened when the answer came to him. When he’d gained the trait, it had tried to grow, only to inform him that the mana within the ruins of Caldath was not something that he could use to grow it. If he wasn’t mistaken the interface had called it tainted, so he’d been forced to use [EP].

Which means that if I leave it alone it will just keep growing on it’s own.

That was a good thing. One less thing he had to spend his [EP] on.

“Oh, Mel,” Ark said in mock dismay. “You need to up those numbers. Those are rookie numbers.”

“What’s yours on?” Melmarc asked.

Ark was more than happy to pull his own up. Melmarc’s jaw dropped at the sight.

[Optimum Existence (28.00%)]

What the hell? He thought. How is his this…

His question died almost immediately as he really thought about it. Since coming back, he’d gained an extra percent in the skill without doing anything, and Ark had been on earth the entire time he’d been in the portal.

Logically speaking, while Melmarc’s had been hindered from growing, Ark’s [Optimum Existence] had been growing freely.

Curious as to what came at so high a percentage, Melmarc asked, “Any side-effects?”

“Not really,” Ark answered without missing a beat. “My emotions are kinda heightened a bit.”

“Define a bit.”

“Remember that Uncle Dorthna’s show,” Ark said. “The one you don’t care about, where that guy has been looking for his girlfriend who went missing?”

“She was kidnapped by the bad guy,” Melmarc said. “It doesn’t take two brain cells to figure that out. Don’t you and Uncle D have a running bet on that show?”

“Yup.” Ark nodded. “I bet him fifty bucks that she’ll die. He bet that she’ll live.”

Melmarc almost shook his head. Ark was eccentric in his own way. He liked life the way life came at him, and he faced it as if it was a dare. The show would be more interesting to Ark if the girlfriend died.

“So what about it?” Melmarc asked. “Has he found her?”

Ark nodded.

“Then who won the bet?” Melmarc asked.

“I did.”

“So she died.”

“Yup.”

If it wasn’t a show about fictional characters, it would’ve been a truly sad thing.

“And this has something to do with our conversation, how?” Melmarc asked.

“Well, I watched the episode where she died.” Ark scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“And?” Melmarc pressed.

“I cried.”

Melmarc’s jaw dropped. Ark crying because a character died in a show was as impossible as Melmarc being transported to another world and finding out that it was real.

“I don’t get it,” Melmarc blurted. “You cried? Why?”

Ark shrugged. “It was just a little sad. After all his hard work to leave the violent life, he finally succeeds and finds love, only to lose it to a past he had done his best to avoid. Then there was the girl who didn’t deserve to die or go through what she went through.”

Melmarc couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Ark wasn’t a terrible person, but he was more likely to laugh about that end than cry about it. He’d even had money riding on it.

Melmarc stared at his brother, not sure of what he wanted to say.

“Is this character development?”

Ark frowned. “I’ll shove my arm down your throat, and we’ll see just how much character development I’ve got. It’s more villain arc than character development.”

Melmarc was very sure this wasn’t a villain arc.

In summary, Ark had gotten his own monster pet, gained a class out of it, gone for his mentorship program, suplexed a bull, saved a bunch of people during a Chaos Run, gotten a devastating injury that he survived and had left him with a badass scar and was now slowly coming to a deeper understanding of his feelings.

It’s like he’s the protagonist in his own comic book.

Melmarc almost smacked himself on the forehead.

“Anyway,” Ark continued. “It’s a bit of an annoying thing, but it also comes with some perks. There’s the height thing. I also see better, like really better.”

Melmarc didn’t know if he saw better now. He’d never really had any eye problems. “What about your mind? Do you get confused sometimes, like your brain wanting to do things you normally wouldn’t do?”

Ark paused to think about it, then shook his head. “Nope. Brain’s still functioning the way it should. Do you get that sometimes?”

Melmarc nodded. “It’s annoying. When someone does something bad, I really want them to be punished for it.”

Ark laughed. “And you’re just at three percent? You really got the short end of the stick.”

“Tell me about it,” Melmarc groaned. “You develop a deeper acceptance of your emotions, and I develop the need to punish people, among other things.”

“Well, never say never, you might get better once you up your numbers.” Ark shrugged. “You just have to find a way to up your numbers.”

Melmarc’s gaze narrowed on Ark in suspicion. “Have you found a way to up your numbers?”

“Nope.”

Melmarc’s brows furrowed. “That answer was a bit too fast, Ark.”

“That’s because it’s the truth.” Ark got up from the bed. “Didn’t need to think about it.”

He moved to go to his own bed and Melmarc reached out to grab him by the wrist. “What are you—”

Ark’s expression suddenly sharpened on the air in front of him and Melmarc paused.

“What happened?” he asked.

Ark turned to him in surprise. “That was you?”

“What was me?” Melmarc asked, confused. “And why are you smiling like that?”

“Ha!” Ark barked in excitement. “I knew you were up to something.”

Melmarc’s brows furrowed. “I don’t get it. What’s happening right now?”

Ark hurried to sit back down.

“So, here’s what happened,” he explained, excited. “A few days ago, I’m at home and I get a notification that says something about an [August Intruder].”

Melmarc gulped without even knowing why.

“I asked Uncle D what it was,” Ark continued. “And all he says is that I should ask mom and dad when they get back. I was like, ‘okay, no big deal.’ Then boom, not too long after, I get another notification that this [August Intruder] has established dominance. Dude, you’re the [August Intruder]. This is so fucking awesome.”

“Language,” Melmarc said before he could stop himself.

Ark flicked him on the forehead. “I’m older.”

Melmarc rubbed his forehead, surprised. It had actually hurt.

“You’ve got no idea what you just did,” Ark continued, still excited. “Do you know what it means to establish dominance? You basically declared yourself as the owner of the world.”

Melmarc blinked. Had he really done that? Well, he knew what he’d done, but just how many people got the notification?

Slowly, he remembered how his dad had responded when he’d done it. He’d made Fendor teleport them immediately, then he’d asked what he had done.

What if everyone saw the notification? He asked himself.

If his dad had received a notification similar to what Ark had received, then it was possible that all the Oaths had received it, too.

Melmarc grew worried. What did that mean for him?

“What did the notification say?” he asked Ark. “Let me see it.”

“Can’t show you,” Ark replied. “It was completely gone when I dismissed it. I tried to look at it again, but it wasn’t in the notification history.”

It’s not that bad, right? Melmarc asked himself, hoping.

But it was difficult to convince himself when he remembered how his father had reacted. He was still bundled up in worry when Ark spoke again.

“So, what’s an [August Intruder]?”

Melmarc opened his mouth only to close it. He remembered Veebee’s warning, he was free to share the information he’d gained, but there was a downside. Anyone he told about what he’d learned being an [August Intruder] would have all the disadvantages of being an [August Intruder] but none of the perks.

Melmarc could only imagine how bad that could be. There was no doubt that being an [August Intruder] had a lot of perks, but by contrast the responsibilities would be heavy.

He could just imagine someone that was not an [August Intruder] walking into a portal only to realize that at C-rank he had to fight against a Demi-god.

You can’t tell him. At least not everything.

But how much could he tell him? Melmarc wondered. How much was just enough?

“It’s something called a designation,” Melmarc said, answering Ark’s question. “I got it when I got into the portal. I’m still getting the hang of it.”

Ark nodded in understanding. “That would explain why your [Optimum Existence] is so low. But is it like mine?”

“What do you mean?” Melmarc asked.

“What’s yours described as?”

Melmarc shrugged. “It says that I draw all traits to achieve a perfect form.”

“Mine says the same except I’m achieving the perfect demonic form.” Ark grinned. “Sounds badass.”

“Sounds more anti-Christ than badass, Ark.”

“Anti-Christ is kinda badass, too.”

Melmarc sighed in frustration, there was no getting Ark to see it differently. “And the perfect demonic form gives you more height and keeps you in touch with your emotions?”

Ark shrugged. “There’s more, but that’s story for another day. And there’s my cue.” He moved to his bed and laid down on it. “Good night, Mel. Something tells me that tomorrow is going to be a fun day.”

Melmarc laid down on the bed and thought about it. Ark wasn’t wrong. Tomorrow would be an interesting day for sure.

For one, Dorthna knew what Broken Divinity was.

It brought back a family mystery to his mind. A mystery that he and Ark had stopped paying too much attention to.

Just who exactly, or what exactly, was Dorthna?

It was the thought that filled his mind as sleep took him. That, and what he could do to convince Ark to get rid of the scar. There had to be a Healer that could do it.

In the end, he concluded that he would be more likely to find success after Ark had achieved his goal of getting into the Gifted school of his choice.

Aurora’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as she took a turn down the road. Not for the first time, she envied her husband for having Fendor in his team.

She couldn’t remember the last time David had used a plane to get home after a portal delve. But here she was, renting a car just after a long flight.

There was no question that she would be mentally exhausted when she got home. But more importantly, her eyes darted to the dashboard of the vehicle.

She’d connected her phone to the car and it was alerting her to an incoming call.

Her eyes settled on the name of the caller and she only had one thought.

That’s unexpected.

There was a single name on the display.

Shield.

Aurora hadn’t heard from a lot of the Oaths ever since she had stopped being an Oath. Shield was one of them.

“I wonder why she’s calling me.”