You have successfully attuned yourself to Mithril Armaments!
You are now one with Mithril Blade.
You have successfully Soul-Bound Mithril Blade (50lb weight) for 1 Soul Point.
You have successfully Soul-Bound Mithril Armaments (500lb hauberk & helm) for 10 Soul Points.
You have successfully Soul-Bound Tier-IV Hyper-polymer Skin Suit for negligible Soul Point cost.
Mithril Helm, Hauberk, Skin Suit, and Blade have been infused with the Essence of Dominion.
Mithril Helm & Blade have been have been enhanced with Runes of Dominion and Resilience.
You have full access to Windfire & Bloodfire Strike once more.
You revel in unleashing your arts!
Eric held his blade up high, his face a mask of exultation as he howled with fiercest glee as the moonlight washed over him.
He wanted to laugh. He did laugh! How good it felt to finally, FINALLY be kitted in proper armaments once more. To tightly grip in hands trembling with exhilaration, exertion, and wonder a blade that could now channel arts related to Wind as well as Fire. Of course he could sense his original mithril blade, now just an extension of himself, so profoundly that it transcended even his ES space. But that particular class-linked artifact could harness the Wind no longer, and was a blade he didn’t dare manifest right now, shimmering as it did with higher order concepts that, even when not lashing out with Ice Fire directly, he feared would still serve as a tell to Goblinoid Sages and Seers looking for any reason at all to declare Earth’s strictures nul and void before enticing their allies to flood the entire planet with ancient Deep Bronze players eager to tear free whatever wealth and resources they could while slaughtering everything and everyone that got in their way.
He shivered at the thought, his momentary euphoria replaced by the awful sense that he was running out of time, hating how perilous a tightrope he had to walk. Knowing that the very powers with which he had saved one galactic empire by his mother’s side and doomed another could now be used do doom and damn the very planet he had sacrificed so much to rescue.
“And that’s why I now have this pretty sword,” he reminded himself aloud, grateful that he could flow through his martial dance equally well as Eric and Ernest both.
He took a deep breath of crisp autumn-scented air, not even sure what season it was or how deep the effects of different Regio and mana levels of wildly different adjoining Territories were having on the weather. But it definitely felt like autumn.
He then lowered his balance, hand on the hip of his instantly resheathed sword, glaring into the dark at unseen opponents… before unsheathing and striking in the blink of an eye.
DoomFlurry! - You have successfully struck imaginary target 1 dozen times in 1 second! Each strike counts as a Doom Slice! (Zero cost – you have tapped into martial mastery (Elite-ranked Swordsmanship boon – 30 minutes cool down or 10 minutes meditation needed before this can be recharged.)
He flashed a fierce smile, enjoying the incredibly deadly feel of a blade he sent cleaving through the air in a series of overlapping cross-cuts with such force and momentum that to be struck with it would convey the kinetic force of a 12-pounder cannon ball at the very least. And that was without even factoring in the massive power multiplier of Doom Slice or the 50% Damage multiplier he got through Cultivator’s Fury, his Elite-tier Swordsmanship perk, whenever he channeled any ability with a Spiritual Energy component through his blade. And that was in addition to multiple other damage multipliers based upon both his cultivation and System classes. He even had a boon from his unarmed combat skill that included melee weapons as well as fists which also came into play whenever he channeled Qi while swinging his sword.
Eric then took a few minutes to meditate and focus, refreshing and clearing his mind before summoning a subtle crimson orb now orbiting his head that very, very few would understand the significance of before embracing his dance once more. Only now his mithril sword had erupted in crimson fire, extending a full four feet beyond the length of his blade. A blade he now swung like a nagamaki, focusing on double zwerches and overlapping crosscuts as he whirled and spun about the backyard, slaughtering countless imaginary opponents with his furiously blazing blade. Though there was a major difference, as his Soul Reserves slowly but steadily trickled down to utter exhaustion.
Had he been fighting actual opponents, his Bloodfire Strike would be rejuvenating him even as it devoured his foe’s life force. But as things were, forced to pay the full cost of his own exertions, he had definitely gotten a good workout. Hell, he was actually panting as he caught his breath! And even if it took only seconds before he recovered, he absolutely REVELED in feeling a burn in his shoulders, thighs, and forearms that he had thought out of his reach as his Strength roared past 500. But whipping a sword around with cannon-ball force was a damned good workout, even for him.
Then he dispelled all such extraneous thoughts. He took a single focused breath as he lowered his stance once more, shifted his foot, hand caressing the hilt of his resheathed blade… and struck one final time.
The night erupted in a furious burst of flame.
DoomFlurry enhanced Bloodfire Strike!
You have struck your imaginary opponent 1 dozen times with Doom-Slice enhanced Bloodfire!
360 Qi and 43 Soul Reserves expended.
You have obliterated your imaginary foe!
He couldn’t help but give a whoop and a holler before cracking a yawn, realizing it was 4:30 already, and if he wanted to get a full reset and feel bright and fresh in the morning, he needed at least an hour’s sleep. But two couldn’t hurt. So he sent a quick message to Bennett that they’d all have an extra half hour’s sleep and not to wake him until 6.30. Only then did he make his way back toward the lodge.
Before stopping cold. Recalling that the structure might be made of Altopaz with a pretty hardwood cover, but with a Strength of 531, and Quickness of 788… if he started thrashing with night terrors, he could destroy the place. And that was not a good look.
“Good thing I like camping,” he said to himself, quickly setting up both tent, sleeping bag, and blood ward before taking full advantage of his Soul-Bound treasures and consigning both armor and skin-suit, which was basically serving as his gambeson for now, into his ES Space before dipping his naked self into the lake just beside the lodge.
He sighed as the frigid waters embraced him, feeling the bitter numbness as nothing more than a delightful tingle. It was a resistance he was sure most of his Bronze acquaintances had. Certainly the two lovers skinny dipping earlier had benefited from it, even if his resistance was a bit higher than most. Thanks to the absolutely insane heat and cold resistance he now had, both from his Elemental Resistance and his Hyperion Blazer perk, a 50% bonus to resisting all forms of radiation meant that not too much was affecting his in the heat or cold department, and he had no complaints there. Of course he suspected that being completely reforged as a Phoenix where he was literally one with Higher Order concepts of Fire and Ice meant that his resistance was now far beyond what even the numbers were showing… because how often did the System have to deal with Golds descending back to their home world? His best guess was that no one psychopathic or desperate enough to claw apart the galaxy for that kind of power would trade it all for love of kin, homeland, or any number of beautiful girls he’d love to spend the night with, without the horror of their world coming to an end in a phoenix’s fiery ascension.
Of course that thought put a blush on his cheeks that had nothing to do with the cold. But the thought of kissing a certain girl before doing so much more was way too distracting two hours before a mission where the lives and well-being of 120,000 people depended on his getting the gold fortune that he prayed was actually out there.
He emerged from the waters and whispered a few runic syllables to dry himself before resummoning his skin suit right on his person, then racing back to his tent and crawling into his sleeping bag. When he closed his eyes it was with the intent of recalling every moment of his martial dance to consolidate his gains. Instead, he snuggled up against his soft down-stuffed pillow and fell right to sleep.
***
“So how you feeling, boss? Ready to start the expedition?”
Eric looked up at an oddly formal Lone while digging into the piping hot trout Riz had caught and prepped while the rest of them had been asleep. Light and flaky with a dash of salt and lemon, they were pure deliciousness.
“Ready as ever,” he declared, a bit surprised that the merc hadn’t flirted with him at all during breakfast, but appreciating the courtesy. Not that he’d blame the man for late night banter after midnight. Lone had given Eric a good deal on his mithril blade after all, and had been receptive to the idea of connecting him with his boss for an extremely time sensitive mission.
So long as Lone was professional during their actual mission, he was all good in Eric’s book. Still, his stomach growled, less pleased to leave than he. He couldn’t help gazing sadly at the massive platter filled with fish before plucking three on his plate and popping the whole thing in his ES space before smiling brightly up at a smirking Lone. “Let’s go.”
“Seriously? You put our fresh catch in your pouch of holding? And did you actually invest in a skill to put shit in it that fast?”
“Something like that,” Eric admitted.
Lone chuckled. “Suit yourself, boss.” He then led Eric outside to the mighty impressive eight wheel all terrain vehicle built like a cross between a range rover and a tank. It even had a rooftop remote controlled plasma cannon that Riz would handle, while the company itself would make use of low-tech gun slots.
Then Eric froze, gut clenching as a trio of reds began furiously blinking in his Dominion Map Interface when he saw a velimobile coming to a sudden stop after racing down the compound driveway before three Bloodtear goblins stepped out with sneers and hostile glares, just feet away from the AFV.
Eric’s jaw clenched. his heart started to pound as their cold eyes and oily sizes gave his and everyone else a once over. Before discarding most of them as irrelevant, their gazes finally settling on Bennett.
Surprisingly, the man somehow managed to keep a pleasant smile on his features while being confronted the three sneering goblins, one wearing a shaman’s robes, another a barrister’s cloak, the third dressed in jet black polymer armor, holding his T-II Plasma Rifle, the exact same model as Eric’s Soul-bound Deathblaze, with casual ease.
“Can I help you gentlemen? Are you looking to hire Rising Sun Corp for a job?” Bennett politely asked.
The barrister sneered. “You. You’re the mercenary planning on entering a hostile zone. Correct?” He said while the glowering shaman’s nose perked up.
“Contraband,” it whispered, before scuttling right under the AFV.
Bennett’s formerly polite smile turned to a hard frown. “Please tell your man to quit sniffing around our vehicle. All Blue Corp holding laws have been obeyed.”
“Answer the question, mercenary!” The Barrister hissed. “Freetown Administration is required to log in all incursions into wild territory involving mercenary companies. You all know that non natives like yourselves attempting to enter delves or otherwise cleanse said territories without a native Contender is… forbidden.”
Bennett flashed a hard smile. “The fact of the matter is that yes, we are representing a client. The contract was approved by Blue Corp HQ less than five hours ago, and I find it extremely interesting that you somehow knew of that or have any interest in the goings-on of a different faction, let alone felt the need to drive all the way out here, just to interrogate us.”
“I come as a representative of the Northeast American Counsel!” The Barrister hissed. “Now, you will prove the authenticity of this… Terran Contender, or face immediate fines and censor!”
Lone’s eyes flashed with sudden heat. “Who the hell is this stuck up jackal to tell us how the fuck we run our operation?”
“Fucking bullshit politics,” snarled Naje.
Bennett raised his fist, instantly silencing the murmurs of his crew before turning to stare coldly at the sneering goblin. “According to section 44-C of the Terran Protocols, I’m required to inform Blue Corp HQ alone of such details. The Mercenary Accords additionally protect client confidentiality. The contract is signed and sealed, only to be opened before a Blue Corp Representative, should our mission be called into question at a later date. You have no authority here, barrister, particularly as your faction has been accused of multiple treaty violations and is considered hostile to the local populace.”
“Lies and Slander!” The barrister screeched. “Lies and slander that shall NOT be tolerated!” He pulled out a fluttering black piece of paper filling the air with a barrister’s twisted arts.
Before freezing when not one but half a dozen crimson dots pricked his forehead.
“You pull out that tainted barrister shit and we’ll ventilate you, motherfucker,” snarled Lone, Mark-III Minigun instantly pulled out of nowhere… along with every other active duty mercenary, most fully armored, that had popped into an ambush formation out of absolutely nowhere.
The assassin paled, feeling hot dots on his forehead too.
At that moment, the shaman pulled himself out from under the ATV. “No contraband,” it said sadly.
The barrister stiffened his spine, straightening up to his full four-foot zero inches status, features filled absolute disdain. Yet Eric couldn’t help noting how fast he made that tainted warrant writhing in the air with the weight of a bound soul disappear.
“Your recalcitrance and refusal to cooperate with a representative of the Northeast Counsel WILL be noted!” The barrister snapped, before spinning on his heels and walking stiff-legged back to his velimobile
The obvious assassin sneered at the coldly glaring Bronze-tier mercenaries that could turn his skull into superheated plasma in the blink of an eye before casually turning around and strutting back to the veli along with the others, the trio driving off just seconds later.
The mercenary company stared at the sight of the rapidly shrinking vehicle darting off into the distance.
“What the fuck was that about?” Lone said with a puzzled look, scratching his head.
Bennett glared in the direction of the retreating goblins before turning to catch a slender olive-skinned gentleman’s gaze. “Scan the ATV for bombs or bugs, Riz.”
“Already done, Captain. I detect no mecha or electromana tech of any sort,” said the thoughtful looking man, giving off the vibes of an active Professional, but with nothing like the killing aura that the Bronze mercenaries were putting off, before reigning in their auras now that the threat was gone.
“Basic incendiaries?”
“None, Captain.”
Bennett sighed, shaking his head. “Fucking politics. Alright, Give Blue Corp HQ a head’s up. They’ve clearly got a mole on the inside. Because there’s no way in hell they’d ever be informing their mercantile competitors about their business, especially if it led to harassing the very mercenary companies giving Blue Corp a sweet cut of the action.”
Lone snorted. “This is just all sorts of fucked up. Did you get a snapshot of those fuckers?”
“Of course. Riz will be sending it along.” Bennett turned to Eric, an apologetic smile gracing his features. “Sorry about that. And no need to worry. We’re well within our rights to escort you anywhere, even if you’re not a Contender. And since you’re just treasure hunting... hell even regular hunting’s alright, so long as you’re not attempting to conquer the territory or lock in delve stability with first-clears… you don’t need to show us any authentication of Contender status at all.”
“That’s right!” Myl chipped in with a smile. “Your credits are good enough for us! But if you were a Contender and wanted to do a bit of conquering… we got your back there as well,” he said with a cheeky grin. Before wilting when the captain glared his way.
Bennett cleared his throat, gesturing to the ATV with his hand. “Anyway, make yourself comfortable. The seats are padded, and we’ll have a nice view through the gun ports. The Alutopaz panes that only look like glass are latched and easily slide open if shit comes running, and we need to fire through them. Otherwise they do a fine job of keeping road dust from filling the cabin.”
Eric did just that, making himself comfortable in the rather boxy interior. Yet he couldn’t help but notice that even the seating was minimal and only on the sides, with gear lockers underneath all of them. The center of the vehicle was clear of all gear and supplies. He frowned thoughtfully before realizing it made perfect sense. Should shit happen, the mercenaries could pivot effortlessly in their power armor and secure the insides or shoot through any portal, using the modified seats as knee cushions, without them even getting in the way. Whereas a classic van setup would utterly kill their maneuverability and leave them little more than sitting ducks in case of an ambush.
“I like the setup,” Eric said. “But seeing as this is a high tech all terrain vehicle, and you all are clearly high-tech baddasses. Why not use automated turrets to blast any ambusher away? I mean, besides the one you already have.”
“Because high-tech hardware looks nice, but this way we can put our full perks into play and maximize the potency fraction we get for any kill through the ports, since the System counts it as basic cover if we’re just shooting through what’s effectively a hole, not rigged to seven separate weapon ports,” Lone had explained.
“And because it’s a fuck ton cheaper this way,” said Naje with a chuckle, getting inside the AFV.
“That too,” Lone conceded.
Eric nodded, more impressed than he wanted to admit by the vehicle thrumming with an unusually sturdy electromana surge, at least compared to the far more exquisitely fine-tuned and delicate pulses his Unified Perception picked up from the mecha suits whenever the mercs moved. And as much as the vehicle was a boxy tank and not sleek and badass looking in the least, it would fit their whole gang of seven fully kitted mercenaries, himself included.
“We all ready to go? Everyone suited up? Lone! Get your ass in gear!” Captain Bennett snapped. “Alright, let me make introductions. Everyone? This is Ernest Slaughter, Eric to his friends...though he specifically asked us to call him Ernest in the city proper. Don’t know why, it doesn’t matter. He’s now our Treasure Hunter class employer. And no, don’t ask me what exactly that class entails, though the title should make it obvious enough. As should our assignment. We’re letting his class perks guide us to what we hope will be a ripe haul. What we’ll find there? Your guess is as good as mine. Just remember that were being paid for escort duty and the contract was sealed and signed. You’re all going to make damn fine wages, and if we actually find a treasure haul, that will be a sweet bonus. Any gold we find... I know, rare as hell, that’s Eric’s. The rest we split. Generous, right? We get escort pay and salvage rights. Though of course were giving our employer a double share of whatever our haul happens to be. Any questions? No? Good.”
He then started pointing at the men and women wearing nearly identical armor once they got seated and moved out with a low rumble of the vehicle. All of them presently had helmets in hand and were gazing at Eric with warm smiles or dispassionate expressions. Eric kept his smile firmly in place. his monstrous perception and Sylvan heritage made a certain class of pheromones all too easy to spot, instantly picking the mated pair.
“Alright, you already met Myl, Naje and Lone. Riz, our indispensable mecha repair specialist, handyman and cook, is driving us as we speak. He’s also the one who controls the automated turret, since he’ll actually gain potency points from doing so, which is damn rare in a Professional and we’re all about growth here. Now the tall blond and beautiful giving you that heartwarming smile over there is Svena,” The woman in question, who looked so much like a high-tech version of Scandinavian princess, save for the trademark purple irises possessed by almost all non-Terran-born humans, gave a throaty chuckle.
“Good to have you on board, handsome,” she said with a teasing wink.
“Glad to be with a solid crew,” he said right back, enjoying the warmth of her playful regard, and glad that the captain clearly wasn’t the jealous type. Because her scent was all over the captain, making it obvious who had warmed his bed last night.
“And our graceful faerie of destruction over there is Elly. We’re a mixed race crew. I assume that’s not a problem for you?”
Elly gave the captain a look, upswept ears showing through her silver-white tresses, before sharing a cheeky grin with Eric. She was the only one with eyes that weren’t a shade of purple but were instead emerald green, much like his own.
“He clearly doesn’t know,” Eric noted.
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“Surprising, since he’s worked with me for over a decade.”
Bennett furrowed his brow. “Explain.”
Eric grinned. “I’m surprised you can’t tell just by looking at me.”
Bennett snorted. “I can tell a lot more than you might think.”
His confident smile grew strained when Eric lifted his thick crimson hair he had deliberately left a bit long for most 21st century guys, but not so for a Sylvan male, revealing the upswept ears they had clearly hidden so well. Especially when he was wearing his mithril helm, or the hat he had embraced with his edgelord persona. One more bit of distraction and misdirection, even while telling the truth. Because he was Sylvan, partly, even if he didn’t normally have the ears that one would expect. Only now, as Ernest, he did.
Lone’s eyes widened. “Wait, you’re a high elf too?”
Eric grinned. “Elven blood does indeed flow through my veins.”
Bennett blinked. “But wait, I thought you were a…” he gave a shake of his head. “Never mind. Like I said, it doesn’t matter in the least, so long as we all honor our commitments and know our roles.” At that moment, the ride along the System forged ley line roads that had been so smooth that Eric had hardly noted the motion was replaced with a jolt and shuddering vibrations followed by rocking that made it clear that they had just entered the red zone nearby. As did the howling storm of spice-scented winds whipping across the their vehicle, the air rich with the sharp scent of wild magics.
Wild magic far more potent than anything Eric had ever experienced before.
He could feel his features lighting up in a hungry smile even as half the mercs paled, the others taking on grim countenances, save for Elly, whose smile matched his own.
“Captain, it’s worse than I thought!” Riz’s voice crackled over the speakers. “These sands are infused with arcane ions. They’ll short out our suits in an hour! Boxy here will break down in half a day!”
Bennett’s jaw clenched, clearly unhappy with the news. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything sooner? You’re supposed to keep abreast of the nearby regions.”
“Give me a fucking break, boss! This is a newly ascending world! This red territory’s getting hot so fast that there’s no fucking precedent!”
Those words alone quenched Eric’s delighted smile, guts roiling with sudden tension.
Because if it wasn’t just isolated to this territory… if even the distant reds zones were being set ablaze with so much energy that they might start warping space and expanding all the way to black…
“Fuck,” Lone said, no fool, instantly getting it. “Monster swarms inside a year.”
“Not on my fucking watch,” Eric snarled. His flash of outrage turned to embarrassment when half a dozen too intense stares—because absolutely no one who actually managed to make it to level 100 and ascend to Bronze was a fool—were now looking a bit too intently his way.
“So, what happens now?” he asked, to shift focus as much as anything else.
Bennett flashed a hard smile. “Now, unless you can pull a miracle out of your ass, we head back and I use pretty much the entire deposit you gave me outfitting our vehicle and at least a few of our suits to handle these caustic sands.”
“And how long will that take?”
Bennett scowled. “As long as it takes. If we’re lucky? Four or so days.”
“Don’t worry,” the captain said sympathetically when Eric grimaced and closed his eyes. “Whether I actually turn a profit or no, I’m a man of a word. We’ll get you to your sight, or do our damned best trying. I promise you that.”
“No good,” he said softly. “We only have three days.”
Bennett scowled. “Is there something you’re not telling me, kid?”
Elly glared at the captain’s choice of words, Svena just looked concerned.
Eric flashed a bitter smile. “If I can’t pull off a miracle in less than three days… Freetown is fucked. And no, you don’t need to know the details. Worst comes to worst, I’ll handle it, like I always fucking do.”
Bennett gazed at his for long moments. “You’re no simple treasure hunter, are you, Ernest ‘call me Eric’ Hunter?”
Elly smirked. “The kid’s clearly a Contender. Terran-born. Why are we even pretending otherwise?”
Svena blinked. “But wait, he’s an elf, right? Elves aren’t native to Terra, are they?”
Elly grinned, looking up at Eric. “Half-elf, am I right?”
Eric sighed, dipping his head and conceding the point, feeling his cheeks blaze, realizing that badass as he was at swinging a sword, in so many other ways he was swimming in the deep end, and these players had been in the game for literal centuries, combined.
If there was one bright side to his having clearly underestimated his contractors, it was that he no longer had to hold himself back. He focused on the captain once more, awkwardness transformed to cool focus. “Can you patch me in to Riz?”
The captain scowled, but slowly nodded. “Do you have a mecha-aligned gift? That would be useful. Sure.”
“This is Riz! Captain, our time out here’s limited. What’s our play?”
“Riz, this is Ernest. But call me Eric.”
“You’re our employer? Sure, I’ll call you whatever you want. Pleasure to meet you, though I regret that we’re having some complications right now.”
“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. What do you need right now to survive what I think will be…” he furrowed his brow in thought, suddenly sensing so clearly where the meteor of a temple had crashed, overlapping what his Dominion Interface Map was pinging as the nearest delve in the territory. “A thirty mile journey South, Southwest?”
“Can you give me exact coordinates?”
“Yes,” Eric forced himself to say, ignoring the increasingly piercing looks he was being given by absolutely everyone sharing the back compartment with him. “As a matter of fact I can. Do you have a Dominion Interface Map?”
This earned a snort. “Sorry, kid. I’m not a Contender,” was the wry reply.
Eric winced. Of course. And now the whole crew knew for certain what at least a few had already suspected.
“Have you studied typography or galactic map designs of any sort?” Riz asked.
“Yeah, I didn’t even finish Terran high school, so I have no idea how the fuck to translate my interface map coordinates to something you might understand,” Eric admitted. Because why hold back now?
“So, you’re an intuitive savant, I take it?”
“I guess. So, now that we’ve established that I’m not a techie… break down for me in the most basic terms what we need so we can keep moving. And don’t worry, I’ll tell you when to turn left or right.”
This earned a snort. “Sure, kid. We need anti-entropic compounds to completely encase both Boxy here, and to reinforce and stabilize the power armor electromana circuits and coils. That will take at least half a month, no matter how much our captain wishes that I could pull a Scotty and get it done in four days.”
Eric quirked an eyebrow. “A Trekky fan?”
“Blue Corp’s got all the back episodes. Why not?”
“Fair. Now tell me why.”
“Why is Blue Corp so interested in Terran Science Fiction along with all the Japanese fantasy anime it can get a hold of and buy rights to? I’ve no idea. You’d have to ask them.”
“No! Why exactly do you need the anti-entropic compounds?”
Riz sighed. “Because, kid, We’re in a red-tier territory that’s apparently turned to a Desert-Dune style dust bowl. And I’m not calling it spice, but the sand flecks are spicy enough with mana that it will rip the flesh off a classless mortal, basically dissolving them, in maybe ten minutes. A few seconds exposure will give them second or third degree burns and either mana poisoning or maybe opening up an Adept-tier class, if they actually have potential and are crazy enough to dare it. Not that I’m recommend it. And it ain’t too good for our hardware either!”
Eric nodded, a relieved smile coming over his features. “So, basically you need the wind to stop, am I right? How long will the gear last if spicy sand isn’t frying all your circuits?”
“Well, if you can achieve that, and if I have an hour to maintain everyone’s gear every night… and the captain has the backup T-IIIs he was looking to get… then we’re good for two weeks out here, at least.”
“No chance of grabbing any T-IIIs. Some fucker was listing them for fifty fucking million a pop!” Bennett snapped.
Eric kept his features absolutely still with that pronouncement, all his focus very carefully on Riz’s voice.
“Alright, then one week with no problem.”
Eric smiled. “That I can handle.” he turned to Bennett. “Permission to let loose some spells, Captain?”
Bennett nodded. “Boxy can handle basic spells just fine. A fuck ton better than the sand storms, certainly. You need to go out?”
Eric frowned thoughtfully. “Not sure. But just for safety’s sake, yeah. Let me out. Between you and me? I love the spicy tingle in the air.”
Elly chuckled. “You are a wild child, aren’t you? Glad to see you’re at least respecting your heritage. What’s your school of arcana? Are you accessing Mysteria’s theorems?”
“Nope! Runic magic. Mana Spiritual Energy fusions tied to words and symbols of power. The hidden language defining reality itself… or at least, this layer of reality.”
Elly’s smile faded. “There’s no such thing, child. And I would know.”
Lone beamed with pride. “That’s right! Our Elly was something of an arcane meister, once upon a time.”
“That’s neither here nor there,” Elly snapped.
Lone winced in apology. “Sorry, Elly. It’s just that—”
She gave an angry shake of his head. “Irrelevant. My own foolishness cost me everything, and it took everything I had to forge a new path forward,” Elly said, armored fist smacking her chest plate. “And if I can protect another bright star from burning out the way I did…”
“No need to worry on my account,” Eric assured. “You haven’t heard of it because its an art I made up myself.”
Elly gave his a long look. “An art that you made up yourself.”
“Yup! Now if you will excuse me, I have a vehicle to save.”
He turned to the captain. “If you would be so kind?”
Bennett gave his a measuring look. “Are you sure, kid?”
Eric nodded.
“Alright, helmets on, people. Integrity’s about to be breached.”
Elly gave Eric a long look before sighing and slotting on her helm, along with all the others.
Two seconds later the hatch was opened, the comfortable interior suddenly filled with glittering yellow particles as the howling winds filled the entire vehicle.
“Fuckin’ hell, I’m already getting static, Captain!” Lone complained.
“This territory’s already halfway to wild black,” Svena snapped. “You can taste it in the air!”
“Impossible. A change like that normally takes years, even on an ascending world,” Naje said.
“Well, it’s happening regardless!”
Eric ignored the debate, breathing deep of air that tasted so wild. So incredibly ALIVE!
His heart was racing as he clambered on top of the slowly moving vehicle, staring out at a landscape of broken basalt, shadowy ravines hiding who knew what, swirling sand, and lightning crackling mustard-yellow clouds high above.
He chortled with sheerest ebullition, savoring the raw power in the air as delightful shivers raced up and down his spine.
He spread his arms wide, breathing deep of raw primal chaos, echoing the crackling fires of his soul, before belting out the words that needed to be said, no matter how INVIGORATING he found the desperate storm of howling winds, arcane sands, and power.
“Debilito ventus plures dies!” he cried, only for his voice to be swallowed up by the wind.
The storm not abating in the least.
Eric glared at the howling storm for long seconds, sensing that something wasn’t as it seemed.
The ATV speaker crackled.
“You okay up there, Eric?” The captain asked politely enough, even as Elly chuckled dryly. “Child’s playing with forces he doesn’t understand. Why the hell can’t we educate newbloods on newly ascending worlds before they destroy themselves?”
“Because the elites want them to destroy themselves so there’s less competition for their own offspring,” Myl said with a snort. “You know how things work.”
“Of course I do. I was speaking rhetorically, Myl.”
“How about you all shut the fuck up so I can figure this out!?” Eric snapped, glaring at the speaker, maybe a bit sorer than he should be by the ultimately well-meaning crew.
He then glared into the howling winds that refused to heed his cry to any extent at all, wondering what he could be doing wrong. Then it suddenly clicked.
He peered up at the heavens from which a massive quarter million ton asteroid of a temple had crashed into the ground at apocalyptic speeds, space and time and shifting mana gradations and the spirits of all those trapped victims both isolating and intensifying the backlash, maybe all that was preventing another ice age, or at least a few really chilly years, thanks to dust clouds that might otherwise be sweeping over the entire world.
“Spirits. That’s what I’m missing!” He whispered to himself, suddenly getting it. Because he hadn’t lifted that massive temple by the laws of physics. No way in hell that anyone below Silver would be capable of that feat, he was sure. He had used the laws of similarity and contagion fused to his necromantic mastery, and had appealed to what had effectively been both one and a million collective spirits locked in perpetual torment, making up the brick and mortar of the entire damned structure.
And now the air was filled with those spirits, one with those spirits, and such a wind would heed no call that didn’t pay respect to them as well.
So Eric took a deep breath, ignored Elly’s murmurs about foolish idiots at risk of obliterating their mana channels, and allowed the swirling storm of both mana and spiritual energy to flow through his meridians, feeling it build and build in a way that was both painful and gloriously satisfying before he sensed it was potent enough to finally let free.
“Debilito ventus animus plures dies!” Eric roared, the fiery red hair slipping free of his mithril helmet standing on end from the sheer arcane power in the air as his chant seemed to echo endlessly against the broken basalt ravines and endless desert sands.
In the blink of an eye, the howling winds went deathly still.
Eric shivered, trapped between jubilation and awe that his worst fears were proved true.
This desert, the entire howling basin, was being fueled to catastrophic critical mass by the hideous infusion of souls that had been sacrificed within that temple. And what if they weren’t the thousands freed of torment in Freetown, just a tiny timeline fluctuation away? What if they were, in fact, the countless millions that the goblins faction had sacrificed over centuries to empower their vile ships, and Earth’s ascension and the temple’s fall had somehow provided a rift or portal where they could escape whatever nightmare hell they had all been consigned to?
He swallowed the lump in his throat, truly having no idea, though the grim burden of that possibility had quenched the jubilation he had felt just seconds ago, no matter that the mercs in the cabin below were outright cheering.
“I don’t believe it. he did it. he actually did it!” Lone chortled over the ATV speaker.
“Not a trace of wind anywhere that the sensors can pick up, Captain!” Concurred Riz.
“Wait, seriously? Just how fucking powerful is that spell?” A shocked Svena asked.
“A spell worthy of the Winter Queen,” said Elly in an awed voice, sending shivers down Eric’s spine, for all that it earned a snort from Naje.
“There’s no such thing. That’s just a legend.”
“You’re wrong, Naje, and you’re lucky I don’t challenge you for that slight to my people. She may have ascended countless centuries ago, but I assure you, she was very real.”
“Really? Not just an elf, but an angel? Ascending right to heaven?”
“Enough!” Snapped the captain. “You know better than to judge another’s beliefs, or their religion.”
“Yeah but captain, it’s a fairy—”
“Enough!”
“Sorry captain.”
“It’s not me you should apologize to.”
Naje sighed. “Sorry, Elly.”
“Elly?”
“It’s fine. What the fuck are we waiting around here for? Get moving, Riz!”
“We good, Riz?”
“Yes, Captain!”
“Then let’s head out.” His voice continued to crackle over the speaker, Eric hearing every word.
“Eric, you ready to get back inside, kid?”
Eric took a deep breath, surprised to find tears streaming down his cheeks, four hundred plus Finesse doing nothing to ease the tremble in his hands.
He closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to focus himself, and meditate. he was here, alive, enjoying the wild mana within the fiercest wildest territory he had ever entered, and it was absolutely glorious!
And the thought of that endless night ascending beside his mother, imperfect as she might have been while he was growing up, before blossoming into a transcendentally beautiful, wise, and loving woman she should have been along when free of mortality’s vices and chains… when remembering who she was, what she was… finally becoming divine once more.
And here he now was, just a handful of hours and a power nap after he had finally experienced the unreserved love and adoration he had seen in the eyes of a girl no older than he was now. Feeling it, truly feeling it in his heart and soul for the first time… the only time… his mother’s love, and now she was gone. A void in his heart, a yearned for connection that he would never experience again.
Yet what for him had been just hours ago… too early for him to even properly miss her… in this world, in the timeline he now called his own, thousands of years had passed since his and his mother’s ascension, and she had already been relegated to myth and legend.
He swallowed the painful lump in his throat, surprised by how much it hurt to know, unequivocally, that he would never be seeing her again.
“Fucking weak-ass body. Why the hell am I crying? What’s wrong with you, Eric?” He whispered to himself, smacking his fist into his thigh.
He froze, sensing someone clambering out of the portal, surprised to find none other than Elly giving him an oddly sympathetic look through her faceplate, which she immediately snapped open, taking a deep breath, though her smile held a wince. Yet it didn’t stop her from crossing her legs and sitting next to Eric, who was furiously wiping away his stupid tears still. Yet all Elly did was look over the horizon.
“Desert’s beautiful. Isn’t it? As long as you don’t mind the yellow-tinged clouds.”
Eric flashed a sad smile. “Yeah, it is.”
Elly sighed. “There once was a time when I could savor mana like this, wild and spicy, and sharp, for hours. Now I know better than to spend more than a few minutes without my rebreather on.”
“I’m sorry.”
Elly chuckled. “Don’t be. I was a wild, daring, headstrong fool. And yeah, I was once a Contender like yourself… A long time ago. There was nothing I liked doing more than pushing myself just as hard as I could. Stretching my magic wide on glorious wings of improbability.”
“Sounds awesome,” Eric said approvingly.
“Oh it was!” Elly grinned, leaning back, taking in the sky of sulfuric mustard yellow clouds. “I had quite a sweet run of it at that. Then I pushed myself too far. At just the wrong time and place. After a string of crazy, improbable successes, it all came crashing down with a single magebane bolt, and the next thing I know, I’m being tortured to within an inch of my life before being sold off as slave chattel as a final insult.”
Elly flashed a bitter smile at that. “At least I got to savor their screams in the end… but it was so many years later it was like they weren’t even the same people. The two assholes who actually had families… holding their kids like loving fathers in my sights when I had finally hunted them down… I didn’t even have the heart to kill them. They never even knew I was there, or how close they had come to death. The other three?” She chuckled coldly. “Honestly, the assholes should have killed me while they had the chance, but I think my degradation and humiliation earned them an extra level.”
Eric winced. “It sounds like you had to go through a hell of a lot to get to where you are today. But you’re here now. Looking absolutely badass in your power armor. That means something, right?”
Elly smirked. “Yeah. By some miracle, I actually managed to make it this far. Seared out mana channels and once endless potential, potential to one day hit Silver, instead became just enough for cybermancer surgery and a class change that gives me complete mastery over my battle-mech suit.”
Elly flashed a cheeky smile, no matter the pain Eric saw in her eyes. “I can power up my armor’s force wards far more efficiently than most of these knuckleheads, and my plasma rifle will sear through pretty much everything.”
“But you can no longer cast spells.”
“Nope. I sure as hell can’t. Not unless you count my Baking profession. But I’m alive, and against all odds, I actually made it to Bronze. And even if I’m in constant pain, it fades a bit more every year, and with every level I had once earned until I finally stalled out.” She flashed a saucy grin. “And nothing beats a hot boy to turn restless nights to sheerest bliss.”
Eric’s eyes crinkled in mirth. “So that’s why you favored that ice-cold lake. The numb chill probably took the last of the pain away, leaving you with nothing but tingles and ecstasy.”
“You got it! And if fortune favors us, maybe this world will be a blessing. Maybe we’ll break through all our bottlenecks and reshape our bodies and our souls to fit our wildest dreams and aspirations. But between you and me? If I can just gain a few more levels, numb that pain down to a permanent twinge and no worse? I’ll consider myself blessed for life.”
“Cheers to that,” Eric said.
Elly laughed. “Cheers indeed. So, genius, how about you break down that wonderfully beautiful spell that managed to calm an entire howling desert as far as the eye can see? And please, don’t let that idiot dissing our cultural myths bug you. He’s an atheist and a cynic, and he doesn’t mean anything by it.”
“Aurelia’s no myth,” Eric said, gazing intently at Elly as he did so. “I know that firsthand.”
Elly waved away the words. “Oh, I know. Her fighting spirit and determination lives on in all of us.”
Eric smirked. “It certainly does. More literally and viscerally than some people realize.”
Elly frowned, before his eyes twinkled. “Wait, you’re not one of those elves who believes you’re a direct descendant, are you?”
Eric blinked. “There are elves that believe that?”
“More than you might think.”
“Can I meet them?”
“Sure, once Terra’s ascension is complete, however many decades or centuries that takes,” she snorted.
“Oh.”
“Right. Seriously though, how did you manage to tame an entire desert?”
Eric grinned. “Simple. Since the air here is filled with the howling spirits of all those once tormented by goblin contracts and cartels, I made sure that my second chant simultaneously asked both the wind and the spirits if they wouldn’t mind chilling for awhile. Clearly, they were agreeable, which is why we can now see a massive flock of… FUCK! Velociraptors are coming our way!”