image [https://i.imgur.com/xcQhW8Y.jpg]
I attempted to activate Stellar Void with a wicked grin, but my eyebrows furrowed when nothing happened. Sitting beside Olin’s corpse, arms crossed over my chest, I stared at the gnome.
“WTF! What am I fucking doing wrong?” I muttered, glaring at the lifeless form beside me. “Hmm… Olin doesn’t need his intestines, does he?” I paused, considering the thought. “Mmmmm—nope!”
Stellar Void was an odd skill. For one, I hadn’t chosen it—I was pretty sure I didn’t need a dimensional storage skill; besides, it wasn’t like I could use items, what with my pH levels all sorts of out of whack. Yes, I can turn off my Corrosive passive, but that’s beside the point. Where was I going with this? Oh, right! I was quite surprised when Misty Blue hacked my system sheet and activated the skill—yes, I just threw out that nickname, testing the waters. Can I keep calling her blue cunt? Well, I suppose I could, and most likely would. But that’s a petty tangent I’m above—I’m getting sidetracked, as usual.
So... Stellar Void. It’s an odd skill. I didn’t want it. Didn’t think I’d need it. However, because of it, I now have a pair of solutions ready to grab by the balls. Yep, that’s right! I have two phylacteries from the undead chimera. I might also be a bit bitter that I couldn’t have taken them and killed that zombie monster without the skill, but I refuse to give that blue cunt any credit for micromanaging my skills. However, why hadn’t the skill worked?
With a huff, triggered by my own relentless narrative rambling—which, let’s be honest, is starting to unhinge even me—I tried to activate my dimensional storage skill once again.
I know, I know, this narrative is teetering on too meta. But what can I say? I operate on two settings: full-blown insanity and cold, hard vindictiveness. Admittedly, my more insane side can be quite fun. In my last life, that version of me would have pulled off a keg stand to massive cheers and then swooped in to steal some dude’s hot girlfriend—or at least, that would have been me if I’d been more sociable. No... what can I say? I was a goth daydreamer, though I’d still manage to snag the girl, the guy, and sometimes both. I think the term is slut, but why do women get the negative labels for sleeping around? Total bullshit, if you ask me! Then there was my vindictive side—yeah, that part of me was a real nightmare, even for me. My point? I’m unhinged, always have been, and it’s only gotten far, far, far—waaaaaay—worse in this new life, and that’s not even touching on the cannibalism!
Slurping on my snack, my brows furrowed deeper as I looked for any signs of the skill working, but frustratingly—nothing! The last and only time I had used this skill, I hadn’t really been paying attention to where the hole had opened—I mean, I was a blob of goop within a monster’s nut sack… you know what, let’s never mention that last part again. Anyway, the dimensional storage didn’t open a hole in time or space before me or anything like that; instead, I felt a shift within me. My eyes glanced down to my chest as I stared, mesmerized, as Stellar Void held open a gaping hole, revealing… nothingness.
“Oh—there you are!” I exclaimed with an overly cheerful tone.
With a happy little hum, I rammed my fist right into my gaping hole and rummaged around, my fingers curling as they searched for the spot. I even pulled out a few times, only to thrust my fist back in, hard and fast. Like a skilled lover, I knew exactly where to look, yet the surprise at the end was... underwhelming. As I pulled out this time with my prize in hand, I pouted, staring at a baseball-sized black phylactery.
Wasn’t it the size of a basketball?
Ah, it shriveled. How cute.
“Maybe it’s too cold inside my hole?” I shrugged, smirking.
I didn’t bother to check if the other one had shrunk; I only needed one. My plan was simple: if my skill, Spirit Vessel, refused to shove Olin’s soul into a corpse, then I’d ram it into this orb and try to connect it to a body using that as the medium. Did I know if it would work? Nope! But it was only his soul—what harm could trying possibly do?
As much as I craved answers from Olin, part of me grieved the waste of one of my two phylacteries on his soul—
Such a freaking waste.
—but, desperate times and all that shit, right? I needed to find Aurelia, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that my soul was in a screaming match, urging me to hurry it up. The worst part was that I didn’t know if she was still alive. So, if ramming Olin’s soul into a phylactery was the ticket, then I’m buying—after all, I need those answers. Meanwhile, a little voice in my head was warning me that Magic was toying with me, dangling that quest reward of ascension like a carrot. I was just waiting for the inevitable screw-over once I get that dungeon core.
Meh, whatever! Aurelia first, core second.
I waved off the doubts with a mental flick of my middle finger. “No time for second-guessing now.”
I hoisted myself off my ass and towered over the pathetic gnome’s corpse, clutching one of my phylactery orbs like the queen of chaos I truly am. Flashing a devil-may-care grin, I punched the mental command for Spirit Vessel into the system. Let me tell you, it kicked off like a firework show, making me feel like a supervillain on a serious power trip—think Evil-Lyn, but cranked up to eleven with mad cackling. As the magic swirled and danced in a spectrum of colors around me, I noticed a new sensation... I could actually feel it caressing my flesh, as tangible as if I could reach out and grasp it.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Huh, the spell seems so straightforward it’s almost idiotic. Could I actually pull this off without the system holding my hand?
Doubtful, but hell, why not try? After all, how hard is it to stuff a soul back into its meat sack?
What’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like Olin can die again... right?
Remembering what Duskara, aka the Crone, had told me—that I was supposedly a Titan, capable of manipulating mana—I decided to let go of my training wheels and deactivated Spirit Vessel. Like a kid learning to ride a bike, I ignored the system, reached out with my hands, and let the mana weave around my fingers. Much to my giddiness, the mana moved with my touch. I doubted it would have been as easy without Mana Focus letting me see how the mana reacted to every gesture I made. Still, I’m not one to complain—okay, that’s a lie; I’d totally bitch to a manager if I could. However, as I smiled like an idiot, Olin’s soul moved with the flow of mana as I guided it into the black orb.
Then, continuing to toy with the mana, I gently squeezed a tendril that danced around the orb and pulled it toward the lifeless gnome corpse. Like a desert desperate for water, the body clung to the soul from the orb like a greedy child. This time, there was no denial, no reaction. Before I could blink, the spell concluded, the phylactery took the reins, and presto—Olin’s soul was back in business. Weirdly, the whole thing felt eerily familiar.
Déjà vu, much?
Had my own soul been through this rodeo before?
It was a creepy thought, but I shoved it aside. Right now, all I cared about was grilling the newly revived gnome rat.
“He’s alive! He’s alive!” I whooped, throwing my arms up like I’d just resurrected Frankenstein’s monster, as Olin’s eyes flickered open.
Olin’s expression cycled from shock to confusion to annoyance as he caught my gaze. Before he could utter a word, I morphed an arm into a massive tentacle and slammed it beside his head, sending shivers down his now-lich spine. As he tried to speak, the word “Bow—” barely formed on his lips before my voice thundered through the chamber, cutting him off.
“WHERE’S AURELIA?!” I screamed, my eyes blazing with a harsh, orange light that cast a sinister glow over the quivering figure before me. The air around me thrummed with dark and ominous energy, and I swore I saw orange sparks flicker.
“The lasth time I thaw my lady,” Olin murmured, barely above a whisper, “she wash fighting a champion ash thath bathard, Demidicuth, headed for the portal chamber with the thurviving eldersh.” His fear subsided, replaced by a flicker of confusion as he patted his jaw and touched his lips, as if puzzled by an unfamiliar sensation.
I remember him having a stutter, but did he have a lisp before?
“Did... Did Aurelia…”
“There ith another coven, far to the westh at the edge of the continent, near the daylight side within the mountainsh along the coasth,” Olin interjected before I could finish. “If Lord Demidicuth went anywhere, it would be there. But don’t expect them to linger; the Grand Elder isn’th one to share power, and hish influenthe wanes on thath thide of the continent.”
Daylight side? Huh, we’ll have to come back to that.
“I don’t care about Demi-ass,” I growled. “What happened to Aurelia?”
“I can’t thay for thure,” Olin admitted, still fiddling with his jaw.
Useless!
“Ugh! How do I find Aurelia?!” I demanded.
“My guessh is she will find you,” Olin answered, unhelpfully.
“That’s not much help,” I snarled. “If you’re not going to be useful, I might as well eat you.”
Olin’s gaze darted around, panic rising, before he regained a bit of composure. “What happened to the other candidatesh? Did they perish during the trial?”
For fuck’s sake, that lisp is getting annoying!
“Hmm? Oh, yeah, I killed them,” I casually replied.
“So you’re the Crone’sh champion?” Olin asked, a trace of hope flickering in his eyes.
“What? Hell no,” I snapped. “I told her I didn’t want it.”
“You—you denied a goddethh?” Olin stammered.
I shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t work well with or for others.”
“You’re not the champion?” Olin muttered to himself, bewildered.
“Nope! These things happen,” I smirked, my expression turning cold. “If you’re not going to help me find Aurelia, I have no use for you.”
“Wait!” Olin cried as I stepped closer, the black phylactery in my hand poised to sever the connection between his body and his soul. His eyes widened in realization as he blurted out, “Elsthernwick!”—clearly understanding where his soul was now held.
“What?” I paused, blinking in confusion.
“If Aurelia was defeated by a champion,” the little lich gulped, “she wash most likely taken captive. In thath cathe, she would have been brought to the nearby village of Elsthernwick, where the Sleathiansh would await reinforcementsh to transport her to their kingdom’sh capital.”
Okay—what’s going on with this lisp? I can barely understand him.
“There, that wasn’t so hard to say, now was it?” I cooed. “Now, come on, we’re going to go get her back,” I declared.
And snag that dungeon core while I’m at it.
Olin attempted to rise but immediately fell flat on his face. I tried and failed to stifle a laugh as he clumsily pushed himself up and stared in disbelief at himself, only now noticing that everything below his rib cage was missing.
“My bad, I got hungry,” I chuckled, striding away and playfully tossing the black orb up and down. “Do keep up,” I called back over my shoulder.
I could barely contain my amusement as the little undead gnome muttered an incoherent tirade, clumsily pattering after me with his hands, his lower half missing. I could have sworn he even hissed a couple of times—not like a cat, but more like a snake, for some reason…
As I walked, I pulled up my skill sheet, deciding it was time to spend my last skill point on one final skill before potentially facing a horde of much stronger enemies. I hoped to sneak in and out unnoticed, but deep down, I knew that was too much to hope for.
V:\Ascension>SAFE_MODE
SkillDetails
[Spores]
Description: Emit a haze of spores to envelop you, inflicting foes with a lethargic slowdown that delays physical reactions and spell casting.
Status: Inactive
Type: Ability
Activation: Cast
Select [Spores]?
> YES
> NO
_
V:\Ascension>SAFE_MODE
ActivateSpell
Selecting Ability: [Spores]
Status: Active
Type: Ability
Activation: Cast
[Spores] is now set as an active-cast.
_
Selectable: 15 out of 15 Skills Activated.
V:\>