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Dark One [Progression Fantasy]
52. Time to Do Battle

52. Time to Do Battle

Jerome shot forward, grunting as his muscles tensed and his head pounded in pain. If the old crone caught up with them, they’d both be dead. No questions asked.

Achilles, can’t you do something about her? he asked. He could sense the succubus now. She was still a great distance away but she was gaining on them. Talk about fast.

“The pods still need a few more hours. She watched the fight with the Argonaut and deduced that she could come after you when I didn’t use Hezvar against her. I can only send her elsewhere once, Xerae. She wouldn’t allow it a second time.”

She watched the fight?

“Yes, Xerae. She arrived thirty minutes and 23.6 seconds after the Argonaut was summoned.”

Jerome sighed as he remembered the memory of the old hag opening a hole in the world to pull out the pod of Hezvar that had been in her control. Could things not go his way for once — especially now that he had become stronger?

I’ll start preparing the Wrath of the Dragon. Damn, these spells take time, he thought. In the heat of battle, one couldn’t wait to complete a spell. You’d die without knowing how. Perhaps he could get parts of the spell to work. Will she be able to sense it when I start the spell? he asked. One could never be too careful with these all-powerful beings. At least, that was how he felt about them. It was like they had evolved to the point they could do anything!

“Absolutely,” Achilles said.

Fucking…fuck, Jerome cursed and clenched his jaw. He had to reach up to clean the blood coming out of his nose once again. The weight of the spell was becoming too much to bear. He needed to rest. This was a sort of wake-up call. His body wasn’t invincible.

“You are more powerful than you used to be, Xerae, but you do have your limits. Please don’t forget that.”

Send her away when I complete the spell, Achilles. I hope she underestimates me a lot for me to complete the spell. Jerome took a second to sense the living steel in his body, remembering that he had set a chunk of it aside to fight the little Argonaut the Alvrics had used to chase after him.

“I let go of my control of it and the ‘Mythril x living steel’ knight has integrated back with you, Xerae. You don’t have to summon it. I’ll summon the nanites to hold off our assailant for now.”

With a nod, Jerome focused on flying and chanting the spell for the Dragon’s Wrath. He didn’t know how it would affect him but since Achilles said nothing of it, he’d probably be alright. I would be ok, right?

“Of course, Xerae. The Dragon’s Wrath doesn’t take as much time to prepare as Godspeed, but it uses up a lot of essence in every shot. This wouldn’t deplete the essence you’ve gathered, however.”

Good to know that, Achilles, he thought and his voice grew louder, as he chanted the spell.

~~~

Csala held on to Jerome tightly. She could hear him speaking in ancient faerie — something much older than she could understand, except for a few syllables. How was it, he was able to learn ancient faerie? She understood it had something to do with the voice of the mountain. If the voice knew so much, did it know about her people’s secrets? Had it told Jerome about it?

Csala’s heart began to beat faster from fear. But remembering the oath Jerome took, she calmed. Which would mean the voice never told him. If not, Jerome would never have made that oath. Csala cast her senses out to see if she could locate Muna. Nothing.

Figures, she thought. The ancient succubus was far beyond her. Coupled with the fact she had lost a good chunk of her psychic energy.

“Jerome,” she called out. “Be careful with her. She’s a lot more powerful than she looks. And a lot older…” Csala lost her words as her eyes met with an impossibility behind Jerome. Or was it? Essence — much denser than the one that had been trailing them for miles — had gathered behind Jerome and was morphing into a human-shaped statue.

Csala’s instinct told her that the statue wouldn’t be so still when it was done forming. For the first time ever, she felt a sort of respect for Jerome. She had feared him — and hated his guts, but now she didn’t have that fear anymore. What replaced it, especially after getting to know him a little, was respect. She was still wary of him, though. That would never change. But she respected him. He could just dump her here. He had no reason to continue this journey now that he was at risk of being caught by an ancient and powerful succubus who would suck him dry.

Suck, Csala thought. It was a fitting name for her kind. According to Muna, that was what the incubi called them. Csala looked up at Jerome’s face to see if he was having second thoughts about their journey.

“What?” Jerome asked.

The frown on her face remained. Her first instinct was to threaten him that if he left her to her fate with the succubus, she’ll…what could she do? Wait, he doesn’t know what Muna wants. He probably thinks the succubus is after me for something she stole. “Nothing,” Csala replied after a while. “Shouldn’t you be concentrating on your spell, human?”

Jerome raised an eyebrow with a flat look on his face. Then he said, “Should you be speaking to me in that tone?”

Csala’s expression changed to fear but she quickly schooled her features and clenched her jaw. “Just focus on your spell,” she grumbled, looking away. One day she’ll pay him back a hundredfold for what he did to her, but that day wasn’t today.

“Leave the girl behind human, and I’ll let you leave in one piece!” Muna’s voice reached them both and Csala’s heart dropped to her stomach.

~~~

Jerome scoffed. He could feel the ancient succubus gain on him. Her words to give up Csala just now would have made him laugh. If he didn’t need to concentrate on the spell he was working on, he would have laughed. Did she think he was a fool? That was like a bad line from a low-budget Hollywood movie.

Even before she reached his range of perception he could feel the weight of her presence bear down on him. It wasn’t as powerful as the Argonaut’s, which gave him some relief, but it was still powerful enough for him to be deeply concerned. His Dragon’s Wrath spell hadn’t been completed, so he had nothing he could use to fight back if she attacked. Jerome clenched his jaw. He had had enough of things not going his way.

“I’m not gonna let her have you. I promise,” he said, looking into Csala’s eyes to assure her. Her beautiful red eyes were shedding tears non-stop. The strong and powerful succubus was barely holding herself together as she shook like a leaf in his arms. But Jerome could still see the hope for survival in her. This must be very traumatic for her. Having someone chase you down so they can possess you would not be fun.

All of a sudden, Jerome felt something pull on him from behind. It became harder to move, the air around him felt viscous like he was moving through mud. Achilles, now!

The succubus disappeared. The moment she did, the pressure loosened up and he shot forward. Damnit, the spell isn’t even 50% complete!

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“I’m holding her down for now, Xerae. You may need to sacrifice Godspeed for Dragon’s Wrath.”

“Will do just that,” Jerome answered.

“What?” Csala asked.

“Not you,” he said, realizing he had answered Achilles out loud.

Jerome slowed down and began to descend. He needed to heal and prepare himself for battle. And for that, he’d need his armor. With the power of the Fae, he had learned many spells which had given him an edge in battle. But somehow he kept attracting beings more powerful than he was. And all he could do was run away. He was done. Done being the one to run away. If anything he should make anyone who dares to trouble him regret it. Even if he couldn’t kill the person. Losing his chance to kill Hedon had taught him something: never let anyone who stands in your way go scot-free.

Slowing down his momentum, Jerome dropped down from the air. The cloud of ambient essence he had gathered trailed him, slowing in momentum with him. The giant knight made out of condensed essence slowed and righted itself. Even in its incomplete state, it still gave off a dangerous aura.

Jerome settled on the crown of the trunk of a huge tree over a hundred feet tall to watch the sunset. The crown shaft of the tree had enough space for about a dozen people to rest in. The cloud of essence he had gathered settled over the forest around him, putting the tree at the very center. The forest quickly became lively as the rich ambient essence called to the many magical beasts in the vicinity.

The warrior of the Dragon’s Wrath sucked on the essence as it visibly filled its form. It stood on the forest floor in front of the tree — a fifty feet monstrosity that was almost half as tall as the tree.

Jerome sensed the creatures racing from afar toward the tree to cultivate in the newly-formed, essence-rich atmosphere of the forest. He could stop them, but that would quickly become a chore. They couldn’t use up the essence. It was simply too much and too dense. He literally couldn’t see more than two feet in front of him as a result of the fog that had been created by the dense essence in the air.

“Is this place safe?” Csala asked, looking around. They might be high up in a tree, but it didn’t mean safety. Coupled with the fact that she couldn’t extend her senses more than a few dozen feet away, she was extremely worried. If it were left to her she wouldn’t stop for one minute, but Jerome needed to rest. She could sense him getting weaker.

“I’ll put a barrier around the tree soon. Just need a little moment to rest,” Jerome said sitting near the edge of the tree, facing the setting sun. his nose had stopped bleeding but he found that he was exhausted and just wanted to sit still. “This is beautiful.”

The setting sun sprinkled the clouds with a vibrant purple and fiery orange. The mountains in the distance lent the sky a picturesque backdrop, a breathtaking spectacle unfolding before his eyes. The mountain peaks were outlined by the fading golden light of the setting sun, casting long shadows that gradually blended with the encroaching darkness. The rugged contours of the mountains were softened by a mystical glow as if the very essence of nature was radiating from within. He wanted to capture and preserve it forever. If only I had a camera, he thought.

“There are blank memory stones in Sanctum, Xerae. You could always preserve any memory you want.”

That’s great. Can you get me one?

Achilles kept quiet for a while. “Here you go,” he said and a white-blue crystal fell out of the void into his open hand.

So how do I go about…taking a picture?

“All the memory crystals in Sanctum are tied to the signature of your essence, Xerae. You just give it a little trickle and use your psychic energy to imprint whatever it is you want onto it — whatever you perceive. I believe it is called video in your previous world.”

Jerome chuckled. Here he was talking about preserving a scene with Achilles and a psychotic succubus who was perhaps a hundred times more powerful than him was coming to kill him. Would she even kill him? Oh, shit. She’d do to me what Csala wanted to do, wouldn't she?

“Yes, she would, Xerae.”

“All the more reason not to let her get to Csala,” he muttered.

If she did and took Csala’s body, will having a younger, healthier body bring her to her prime? If she didn’t take Csala’s body, does it mean she’d have to take her body before she could ‘feed’? Jerome shivered a little at that — more from ecstasy than from fear. He pushed down the images that threatened to rise to the forefront of his mind. He needed his concentration.

Jerome did as he was told and a second later, he activated the stone. It glowed a white-blue color as he sent his psychic energy into it, imprinting everything his senses took in around him into the memory stone.

Concentrating on the beauty of the scenery before his eyes, he zoomed in on the mountains in the far distance. Nestled at the base of these mountains was the beginning of a lush green forest, vibrant and alive, stretching up to his position and for miles in every direction. The trees stood tall and proud, their emerald leaves rustling gently in the evening breeze. Jerome could hear them as though they were a school of singing insects. Their song calmed his senses, pulling him gently toward sleep.

As the sun continued its descent, streaks of vibrant orange danced across the sky, blending with the deep purples that deepen and spread like a painter’s brush stroke. The forest seemed to come alive with the changing colors of the sky, as the purple and orange hues reflected upon the foliage, infusing it with a surreal glow. The clouds, wispy and delicate, transformed into magnificent tapestries of mauve and apricot, embracing the fading light with grace. The fog of essence in the air created drops of condensed essence on the leaves like morning dew, supercharged with essence.

A sense of tranquility permeated the air — like the calm before the storm, as nature basked in the serene beauty of the moment. The combination of the colorful sky, the majestic mountains, and the vibrant green forest created a harmonious scene that evoked a profound sense of awe and wonder.

As darkness gradually settled, the final remnants of sunlight faded away, leaving behind a sky adorned with a blanket of stars and a field of beautifully glowing trees. The leaves and flowers surrounding Jerome competed in majesty and beauty with the stars in the night sky. Their veins of golden light reached into the earth. The night would never be the same for him again. Since he ‘saw’ the beauty of the night with his new eyes the night before, he had been waiting to see it again.

Csala walked up to him silently, trying to look into the distance. She stood to the side watching the darkness with keen eyes, as if waiting to catch the older succubus when she pounced. Though, after a while she walked away, hugging her red winter coat to herself.

“Are you cold?” Jerome asked, trying to imagine how she could be cold with all that fur she was wearing. Maybe succubi didn’t have good resistance to the cold.

“I’m fine, don't worry about me,” she said. “Just make sure to complete that spell as quickly as possible.”

“We’re a few hundred feet off—”

Boom!

The ground shook with the force of an explosion as if a nuke had been dropped into the forest. The quaking of the earth drowned out every other sound for a good ten breaths. When the quaking died down, the wind coming from the explosion smashed into them with the force of an avalanche!

The forest erupted in pandemonium. Jerome and Csala were blown away from the tree. Thanks to the avatar of the Dragon’s Wrath, they didn’t go too far. The warrior moved with great speed and caught them both in the air. Every magical beast that had been cultivating in the confines of the ambient essence Jerome brought with him took off to safety. The strong ruled their world and the essence was not enough to make them risk losing their lives.

The warrior brought Csala close to him by his command and Jerome asked her, “Do you trust me?”

“You can’t beat her. We should have never left the mountain,” her voice broke into tears. “I should have never left the mountain.”

Jerome felt anger rise in him. The kind of anger you have towards the abuse a friend or loved one was facing. Not wasting time, Jerome signaled the warrior to bring her closer. The moment he touched her, he put her into his void space where she would be safe — at least until he could deal with the older succubus.

Jerome’s armor materialized around him, and he felt it shift to fit his frame. He wanted to add the evolved flowing steel to the joints to integrate every piece of the armor better but the armor did that itself: the pauldrons and gardbraces integrated with the breastplate; the bevor to the sallet and he could still move his neck region freely; the gauntlets, vambraces, couter, and rerebraces also integrated with each other — even covering the insides of his upper arms and armpits; the cuisse, poleyn, and greaves integrated with the sabatons; making for a complete suit of armor with no openings whatsoever.

Jerome felt like he was Ironman in his suit. Except his own suit was black and covered in black leather — which didn’t act like leather by the way. The way it moved felt like Suzie. He sensed the weight of the suit of armor but didn’t feel it. Every movement was without hindrances and as he jumped off the warrior’s hand, his jump was powered by the suit. With a deep breath filled with essence, sweeping away his fatigue and bringing himself to his optimum level of strength.

Incredible! Jerome thought. He clenched his fist slowly, feeling every joint in his gauntlets move with his fingers, joints shifted to sit on and embrace his knuckles. He could sense the essence flowing through his suit of armor and into him. The armor has a core of its own? He asked.

“How perceptive of you, Xerae. Yes. Just like the Charybdis, it does. This is the first step in helping you to find — or create — a suitable cycling technique.”

Jerome could unpack a lot of information inside that last statement. A cycling technique was another thing he never had access to in Vorthe but there was a reason for that: his core had the seed of darkness in it and very soon he’d be called into the mountains to inherit the darkness there. This was why he needed a cycling technique unique to him as the Dark One. But he didn’t have time for that discussion because the ancient succubus had escaped Achilles’ confinement. It was time to do battle himself.