“You owe me,” Jerome said as Csala sat up on the lightspire table. She was a far cry from the proud succubus he had encountered on his first day inside Sanctum. Her red hair was in ruins—thick and unkempt, and riddled with leaves and dirt.
She also looked pale and sickly, the glow and suppleness of her skin had diminished greatly. The older succubus must have done a number on her.
Csala looked away from him not knowing what to say.
“Fortunately for you, I am a benevolent person,” Jerome said with a hint of a smile on his lips.
Csala looked at him with suspicion. She could sense something bad coming.
“What do you want?” she said, her voice sounding cracked and painful.
Jerome moved closer entering into her personal space, and lifted up her chin with a finger to make eye contact. He truly wanted to hate her, but somehow he couldn’t.
“Don’t,” she said again, “You’ve taken so much from me already,” she finished with a sniff.
Jerome smiled at her and bent down to kiss her. Csala flinched and stiffened. She wanted to stop him but didn’t have the strength to do so. Something else happened though. Instead of siphoning more of her psychic energy as she thought, Jerome was pouring his vitality into her.
Csala was overjoyed. Her hungry cells threw themselves wide open and devoured the vitality he poured into her. She unconsciously moved her hands and wrapped them around his neck pulling him closer.
Jerome had never met a supposedly experienced woman who kissed like it was her first time. He observed as she became bolder, testing the waters, leaning into him as he poured his vitality into her. He scanned his body quickly to make sure he wasn’t giving her too much—he wasn’t Santa after all.
Jerome broke up the kiss and leaned away, flustered and out of breath. Any more than that and he wouldn’t be able to resist himself. Even looking as unkept and unhealthy as she was, Csala was still irresistible.
A glance at her let him know he wasn’t alone in it. Csala was breathing hard and looking at him like a snack she wanted to devour. Her skin had regained some of its vitality and suppleness making her even more irresistible.
“That’s enough for now. I need my strength for other things,” he said.
“How—ahem—how did you get me out of there?” Csala asked, her voice sounding normal. Jerome had to hold himself back at the sound of her voice and she seemed to notice. Her voice was like a siren's call.
“Sorry,” Csala said, “Succubi are born this way; I can’t help it.”
Jerome took a deep breath to calm his nerves. It was like being in the presence of a Sage—maybe she was as powerful as a Sage—but instead of feeling pressured, he was feeling aroused.
“She’s not,” Achilles said in his head. “She can only compare to a Spirit Realm artist—one at the peak of the Spirit Realm. I believe they’re called True Spirits, or True Spirit artists.”
So are there—
“Jerome?” Csala called out to him with a curious look.
“Ahem. Sorry about that,” he said before helping her off the table.
He could just imagine what he would have looked like standing there not saying a word and gazing into empty space as he discussed with Achilles. He held Csala by the waist as the portal array lit up beneath them they disappeared in a flash and reappeared in a new chamber.
“I’ve never been to these parts of the mountain before. How did you do that?” she said looking around.
“I found something here. And I trust you’ll keep this a secret,” Jerome said, eyeing her with a hawk’s gaze.
Csala turned to him and nodded, “I swear by Terra Praeta’s moons that I would never reveal anything about you to anyone living or deceased,” she said, feeling bitter about it all. The oath took hold and settled in the depths of her soul and she flinched, but then sighed afterwards.
Jerome must have obtained some sort of good fortune and somehow had more power in his hands but she had been here for more than a century and all she could do was use this place as a safe haven because she couldn’t use essence.
Jerome watched her watch him. The fear in her eyes was deep. He had almost forgotten about the effectiveness oaths. From her reaction he knew that the oath had taken hold. But that was a bold move on her path to express her sincerity.
Why the hell didn’t you get an oath out of that other succubus? He snorted as he watched Csala shake off her melancholy and focused on the room they appeared in.
“The other succubus would’ve refused to, Xerae,” Achilles said. “Or created loopholes that wouldn’t be readily considered. It‘s all about experience and abilities: if you don’t know the depths of ones ability, you don’t know how much limits the oath has on them.”
Jerome nodded in understanding as he looked around. If one swears not to hurt you under oath, but can get another to do it without breaking an agreement or oath then…
He had a vague map in his head of the labyrinth that was Sanctum. They had teleported to a chamber where Achilles 3d printed things he needed—which was incredible. The room was as bright as the laboratory. There were boxes stacked on shelves by the walls.
Jerome did a quick scan and found they were filled with spare parts for Achilles’ projects. There was a glowing light of a blue circle at the center of the room which gave off a strange energy, non-threatening though it was. Achilles transmitted the procedure to activate the circle fully and direct it to print whatever Csala wanted.
“We’re here to make you some clothes—‘decent’ clothes,” he said that last part to Csala as much as to Achilles. The AI could do things to annoy him sometimes.
“Make?” Csala asked unsure. All the clothes she owned were stolen from female sacred artists who came to Terra Praeta from Jerome’s world, including the furniture Jerome had torched inside her room.
“How is that a strange concept to you?” Jerome said. “Never mind. Get on the circle.”
Jerome held her dainty hand in his and walked her to the glowing blue circle in the middle of the room. With a glance to his side, he couldn’t help but smile. Csala was looking like a fish out of water. He guided her to the middle of the circle and crouched down to activate the circle. It was pretty straightforward. Jerome slid his finger in an arc around the glowing circle making sure to transmit as much essence to the circle as possible, lighting up scripts in the process. With a pulse of essence from him, the circle was fully activated.
“We have to prepare for your next project, Xerae. Illyrah left strict orders to make sure this next project was completed before you left for your world.”
And what might this project be? Jerome asked, watching as Csala twirled her fingers in the air and patterns unfurled where her finger passed through the air, creating a design for what she wanted. He saw her smile and her lips move as if she was talking to someone which was a surprise. The inside of the circle seemed to be soundproofed as he couldn’t hear what she was saying.
Achilles, are you communicating with her? He asked.
“Not directly, Xerae. And the project is to create a spatial treasure—a void space to be precise. Large enough to hold anything you want, but small enough that it won’t be a burden to create or maintain.”
“That would be cool. Would living things be able to survive in it? Cos spatial rings can’t hold living things,” Jerome said as he walked away from Csala, leaving her to do her thing. She seemed to be having fun creating the kinds of garments she wanted to wear.
“Of course, Xerae. That’s the whole point of a void space. You can hide in it as well, and hide things you don’t want others to know about.”
“Hmm.”
“Illyrah tried to think of everything. Should in case you ever lose your spatial ring or it was stolen, this would come in handy. Also, there might be things that can’t be kept inside a spatial ring.”
“That’s reasonable,” Jerome said, nodding slightly. He didn’t plan to lose his spatial ring though. “Wouldn't it have been quicker if he left one behind?”
"True, but over a long period of time, it would destabilize without care and collapse in on itself.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“And then there’s also the fact that a void space grows as its wielder does, becoming wider as your foundation rises. The early sacred artists that came to Terra Praeta found the first scripts and arrays for making spatial rings. After them others tried to find something similar and they did. But what they found were of cheaper quality.
“The spatial ring you wear now can be accessed by anyone, but ask Rihal when you get home about the spatial rings the Royals and the members of the Great families wear.”
“That’s…so there’s a difference between spatial rings,” Jerome said. He couldn’t be bothered by the fact that Achilles knew about Rihal.
“There’s a difference between many of the resources Scions and disciples get, Xerae, and I’ll make sure you get even better resources. But first, you’ll have to cleanse yourself of impurities, and rest.”
“Rest?” Jerome was transported to another chamber by Achilles himself.
“Yes, Xerae. It’s a different kind of rest—a comma if you will. It’s the only way to prepare your body for the torture it will have to endure to succeed.”
Jerome was taken aback. More pain? He was used to pain. Doesn’t mean he would love to experience it though.
“Wait a minute. How do I create a dragon avatar for the Dragon’s Wrath?”
“Firstly, you need to have a really good understanding of an adult dragon’s essence channels and core; muscle mass and bone density too. And theirs is way more complicated than the Faes.”
“What is it, rocket science? Fine. What do I need to do?”
~~~
Hedon had ditched his plan to travel underground after two of his teammates nearly died from the poison of the Earth Crawler—a large poisonous worm that burrowed through the earth scavenging for dead and buried flesh to feed on. He only implemented that plan to practice using earth attribute essence in the first place. He wanted to learn how to wield another essence so he could have better protection, but he was still years away from learning how to properly wield earth essence.
As they got closer to the mountain, the dangers they faced became more severe. Attacks started coming from more powerful magical beasts. Before long, they had flown into the territory of a wyvern; a deadly relative of the dragon bloodline. Wyverns were known for their high intelligence, and their ability to produce sonic waves that could obliterate sacred artists at the Core Formation Realm – Sprouts.
Reptiles were very sensitive to their environment; their senses far surpassing that of a wolf. The wyvern raised its head inside its dwelling. It quickly flew out of its cave and circled the intruders as they flew by, ignorant of their situation.
“Do you hear something?” Hedon used his communications artifact to ask his teammates.
They were flying really fast, so the wind was in their eyes and ears. No one should have been able to hear anything but the strong wind blowing past them. But Hedon wasn’t the son of their Patriarch for nothing. He was a lot stronger than many elites in his clan, and his senses were far sharper than theirs.
“I don’t hear anything,” many of his teammates reported back.
“I do,” both Murray and Arkesha said at the same time.
The moment they spoke, everyone stopped. Since the most powerful Sprouts among them heard something, there really might be danger. Everyone took position. A moment later, a huge shadow covered part of the sky moving in the opposite direction. The group stopped to look up but what they saw made them freeze in place.
A gigantic black reptilian creature with wings that literally covered the sky, flew slowly past them while eyeing them with one of its black-slitted eyes.
“Dragon,” someone whispered. She was one of the four female sacred artists present in the group.
“That’s not a dragon, that’s a wyvern!” Arkesha, who was close to her, shouted.
“Run!” Murray commanded and they all scattered in different directions, with Murray and Arkesha flying alongside Hedon to protect him.
The team of sixteen Sprouts split up and flew in different directions but the wyvern just landed on a small mountain, its wings still slowly beating. The creature was over two hundred feet long, with a wing span of six hundred feet! The wyvern let out a deep guttural vibration from its throat, causing an area of half a mile around it to vibrate fiercely. Every one of the Alvrics fell from the sky with blood coming out of their orifices.
The Wyvern was extremely brutal. It chose its first prey and immediately went in for the kill. It raised its wings preparing to fly off the boulder. With a loud sonic boom, like the clap of thunder, it spat compressed air at one of the falling Alvrics. The Sprout instantly exploded midair and the Wyvern was there a split second later to gulp down its meal whole.
Team Alvric stood shocked midair, wondering how they just lost a teammate in less than a few breaths.
“Form up!” Hedon screamed into his communication artifact bringing them all out of their shock. They quickly regained themselves and shook off the pain of losing another teammate bringing them back to the reality of their situation.
The team gathered together and started cycling to execute a secret formation technique of their own. Flapping its wings to stay afloat, the Wyvern saw this and spat another bout of air at them to disrupt whatever they were doing.
But the Alvric clan was not anything if not a Great clan of elites. Before the speeding compressed air reached them, a shield of air manifested in front of them. The compressed air collided with the air shield and pushed them downwards a few feet, causing them to let out loud grunts and almost disorganized their formation. The compressed air dissipated thereafter, as did the shield.
The wyvern looked down at them, puzzled. The next moment though, it unleashed the aura of its presence upon the surroundings, suppressing the Sprouts and disorganizing their formation.
Murray rushed forward to take charge of the formation. Hedon was too young and weak to face something like this. He willed himself toward Hedon’s position and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I’ll take over,” Murray said, through gritted teeth. The pressure from the wyvern was affecting him too but he could handle it better than Hedon.
“I can do it. Go back,” Hedon insisted.
“All our lives are on the line, Hedon. Let him,” Arkesha said. She didn’t want an argument to break out. It’ll only bring disunity and they’ll become easy pickings for the predator.
Murray didn’t wait for Hedon to decide though. A small cyclone spread outwards from Hedon’s feet and rose up to his waist level. Before he knew what was going on, he was transported to Murray’s previous position in the formation. Hedon cursed him out loud at that.
Murray activated the formation by triggering the script on his armor and wind essence poured in from the world. The other Alvrics followed suit. It was a good thing they didn’t need all twenty members of their team to activate the formation. The wyvern saw that its aura wasn’t doing enough of what it expected and dove down from above.
A two hundred feet tall ethereal armor-wearing knight immediately appeared around the Sprouts shielding them like living armor and wielding a longsword made of wind. Argonaut, the wind Spirit!
This wasn’t exactly the wind spirit; it was just a replica. But it was enough to protect the Sprouts anytime they ran into danger. The Argonaut, whose legs touched the ground from the sky, spread its legs apart and bent its knees. The ground shook as the Argonaut spread its legs apart, uprooting trees in the process. The fifteen remaining Alvrics who were powering the Argonaut from specific locations inside it grunted as the formation drew power from them.
The web of arrays on its body glowed slightly and it shot upward like a blur.
The wyvern didn’t have the chance to stop midair and put enough distance between them before the mighty sword made of wind sliced through its huge neck like butter. It was still flapping its wings widely, trying to move out of the way of the wind spirit before falling out of the sky and crashing into the forest, spilling blood and gore everywhere.
“What the fuck?!” someone said a moment later startling everyone, “The mountain…it’s gone.”
~~~
Jerome woke up feeling refreshed and clean. He felt light like he’d been weighed down for so long and had just gotten rid of the extra weight on him. He always knew impurities were a nuisance, but was confident his body was as free from impurities as a newborn. He sat up straight and looked around the chamber where he had gone to rest. The chamber was filled with dream aura, which he could sense quite adeptly now.
“How are you feeling, Xerae?”
Jerome looked down at his naked form and did a quick scan of himself. With a chuckle, he stood up from the pod-like construct he had slept in. His body was coated with a pink gooey substance like amniotic fluid that had a slightly sweet taste.
“Really good,” he said, cycling essence from his core into his body.
The essence moved fluidly through his channels and Jerome could tell that his body had gone through enormous changes. He made sure to transmit essence into every nook and cranny, reaching places where he never thought his channels extended to, or perhaps he never had channels before.
“What exactly did you do to me?” He asked. “My channels are wider…smoother…stronger, and my bones and muscles feel tougher…my skin too.” And his body was already very tough before now.
“I made you more resilient, Xerae. Your body is now highly resistant to poisons and your skin…well, your body is now as tough as armor. You should be able to use the pod of Hezvar I gifted you for much longer now.”
“Hmmm,” Jerome dragged out the ‘hmm’ with a smile on his face. “Anything, in particular, you want me to see?” He flushed as he realized Csala was probably still in the mountain. She wouldn’t dare go out. But Achilles might misunderstand him thinking that he was a weirdo and a creep, trying to peep in on an ignorant succubus.
“You should look outside,” Achilles said. “You’ll sense the other pods. So try to connect with one of them.”
Jerome closed his eyes and stretched his senses. It went beyond the mountain in a second as his perception stretched to its limit. Sensing points of similar energy in the atmosphere, he reached out to one of them. The action was effortless. He connected to another pod and his perception expanded again. He could sense them more clearly now. They were like nodes, bridging together all the different sections they survey to form one big map of the whole Terra Praeta.
Jerome could only get a vague picture of the map, however. He couldn’t connect to all the pods, only a few in his vicinity. Though, he could sense a giant spot on the West of the map in his head—the night of Terra Praeta, they called it. The lands ruled by the Mother and guarded by her Children.
“Who is the Mother?” Jerome asked.
“She once was a concubine to Illyrah’s foe. When Tholor died, his children whom he took to war against Illyrah died too. His many wives and concubines committed suicide to escape the fate that awaited them. Except one.
“Dashani. She touched upon the precepts of an abominable power: power that granted death as new life.”
“Interesting,” Jerome said.
“And so, the Mother was born. The power twisted her mind though…made her a lot more than a creep trying to peep in on an ignorant succubus.”
“Fuck you, Achilles!” Jerome blurted out, his face red with embarrassment and anger.
Achilles chuckled. “I didn’t think it. You did, Xerae,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery.
“It's a good thing said succubus isn’t here right now,” Jerome pinched the bridge of his nose. “Someday, Achilles. I’ll find your source and pull your plug.”
“You can try, Xerae. You can try,” came the AI’s response. “You missed out on the Alvrics battling a wyvern. But no issue there, you can always see it on your own time. The Royals are close by, though. Would you like to watch the show?”
“Oh, yeah. But I should probably get dressed first,” Jerome said as he dried his body with a pulse of essence.