From the second they stepped foot on the hundredth floor it was apparent that something was off.
If the sickly green flames that flared to life from the many brasiers lining the walls weren’t indication enough, the half-skeletal figure reclining atop its throne of bones should’ve been a dead giveaway, no pun intended. That and the fact that the ground leading up to its raised dais was also made of bones. And so were the walls.
Not to mention the massive chandeliers hanging from the, you guessed it, bone wrought ceiling. Across the chamber, two beads of sickly green flared from beneath lowered brows, undead, inhuman, and otherwise uncaring—twin suns of burning emerald trapped in hollow ivory sockets.
Wreathed in almost scholarly vestments—a long, tattered, ceremonial set of robes that might once have been red—it was embroidered along the hem, collar, and low-sagging cuffs in gold.
Copious amounts of jewelry adorned its neck, and many gem studded rings hung loosely on its slender undead fingers, each ending in wickedly tipped black talons. What skin it still possessed was pale and bloodless, and, as it watched them, head casually resting on thumb and forefinger, Jun got the distinct impression that they were in for a rough time.
“What… what grade did you say this creature was again?” asked R. Jun.
“Well… Of course, I’m not an expert or anything, but it definitely fits the description I read a while back. An Undying Lich, if my memory serves correctly. If I had to wager a guess… going purely off of its soul energy…? Peak A grade? Possibly higher? A Monarch Class Demon Lord for sure though,” Eleanor gulped.
“And what does that mean, exactly?”
“Generally? A singular rift spawn for whom the first ever Azure Queen would’ve had some trouble subduing.”
“Oh? That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“According to historical records, the first Azure Queen was capable of decimating entire armies of B grade rift spawn, some of them numbering in the tens of thousands, with a simple wave of her hand.”
“Oh. So, not great for us then.”
“That was my conclusion too, yeah.”
“And the crystal we came all the way up here for, is that it, do you think?”
Eleanor startled, snapping her eyes from where they’d been transfixed, to the skull sized crystal hovering just above the Lich’s head. A glittering blue diamond, rhomboid in shape, it slowly rotated in place, fifteen feet above the ground—a constant stream of soul energy pulsing from it in waves. Where it was then funneled, as if drawn inexorably down a drain, directly into the waiting Lich.
“Well, at least now we know why it hasn’t gotten up to greet us yet. How terribly rude of us, interrupting its meal like this. Girl, go and tell it we’ll come back at a later time. Whenever’s most convenient for the wretched creature.”
“That’s… not good. I mean that’s really not good. That crystal is supposed to be powering this entire tower! Not to mention all its defenses! This is probably the reason it’s in such disrepair.”
“Huh. Is that why the walls are always so gloomy? Compared to that crystal, this entire place is like a starved puppy begging for table scraps.”
“Jun! This is serious! I don’t think we can fight that thing. Who knows how long it’s been absorbing all that energy! So much…”
“Do not fret, friend Eleanor! So long as we believe in ourselves, nothing is impossible!”
And then, before Eleanor could reply, the skeletal figure on its ivory throne shifted. When the Lich spoke, it was in a dead, raspy monotone.
“DIE.”
image [https://i.ibb.co/rw6tMBB/IMG-2711.png]
Initially, the fight had more or less gone off without a hitch. Immediately following its grave pronouncement, a glowing toxic cloud escaped its mouth. Not too dissimilar from the Nightshade Revenant’s signature move, as it so happened, if of a darker cast and far larger in quantity.
Toxic gas rapidly filled the room. Jun merely dealt with it much like he had the last time—punching a hole through the sturdier, albeit still susceptible, bone wall, and directing any smoke that came their way out the impromptu window with whirling blades of cutting.
Within moments all of the noxious gas had been cleared and, thinking to capitalize on the floor elite’s apparent reticence to act, Jun had flung a barrage of ruby daggers its way. Glittering blades eating up the five hundred paces in seconds, he’d actually dared to hope this might be resolved as easily as that.
The plink of his daggers rebounding off something solid and, for all intents and purposes, invisible, sounded loud in the relative silence of the chamber. Confused, it took him several more rapidly conjured volleys before he realized what was wrong.
Before he spotted it.
An aegis.
A nearly invisible sphere of energy was deflecting each of his ranged attacks as if they were nothing more than bothersome insects. Undeterred, Jun had thought to use the same strategy he had against the last opponent who’d thought themselves immune to his blades, when the aura in the room changed.
Death.
Like skeletal fingers snaking around his throat, wrapping their icy hands about his heart, and kneading them through his brains, the cold chill of death abruptly suffused the room and everyone in it.
Pooling out from the Undying Lich in dreadful waves of sickly green embers. Waves that made his own sorry trickle of aura look paltry in comparison. For a second, every beating heart in the chamber went still. And then, from the very depths of the tower, or else from the very air itself, the Undying Lich summoned his minions.
They formed out of the walls, the floor, the ceiling. Flowing up and down and from either side. Out from between gaps in the cleanly picked bones, and then coalescing out of the bones themselves.
It was only then that things truly started to go down hill.
[Malleable Undead Brute (Middling A Grade)]
The blow from the person sized necrotic fist had Jun careening through ten consecutive floors, before the splitting chop he’d landed reached its full extension. At which point he began rocketing upwards towards the brute—much to the indignation of the splitting chop in question.
Floors tore past. His hair a whipping mess.
And all the while the manifestation of his mantra tried its best to end him, just as surely as the brute had mere seconds before. Jun ignored them all, the writhing yellow band, the sharp pain in his ribs, even the necrotic amalgam of rotting flesh he was rapidly ascending towards.
Instead focusing all of his attention on the moment of transition. His timing had to be perfect. His control precise. The hole he’d made loomed ever closer. Jun braced. His body tensed.
Then, in the moment just before impact, a sudden burst of silvery mist exploded, coalesced, was made to saturate his feet all the way up to the ankles. Chrome soles met necrotic flesh at meteoric speeds, and Jun nearly wept in truth at how little any of it seemed to do.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Oh sure, he sent the lumbering sack of meat flying for several meters, no small feat given the brute had to weigh at least a couple dozen tons.
Even still, he could practically feel it through his souls. The resilient almost rubbery retention of its body as it absorbed and redistributed the vast majority of Jun’s attack—leaving it, at the end of all that aura expenditure, more or less unharmed. It was infuriating.
Jun soared through the hole in the wake of the necrotic titan. Flipping through the air, lashing out a splitting chop, and tugging himself away before the Undead Brute could land on top of him.
BOOM!
As the pale giant came crashing down in an uncoordinated heap, the entire tower shook. Almost humanoid in stature, nearly thirty-feet-tall while standing, it was a faceless thing of pale rot and decay. Stitched together from the parts of many dozens of undead, it was able to manipulate its body on the fly.
Rearranging limbs, vital areas, or even growing new ones entirely, it was a creature of unending modifications and seemingly endless undead vitality. Possibly the only advantage against these monsters they had, being the clumsiness that came with lugging around all that extra bulk. From where he was only now staggering to his feet, Jun caught the telltale signs of movement from out of the corner of his eye.
Reaching out blindly, Jun was just barely able to catch the flying form of Eleanor, feet skidding on the floor, as she was nearly sent careening into a wall. The other two Undead Brutes she’d been keeping busy now free to direct all of their multifaceted attention on him.
Or at least that would have been their greatest advantage, had there not been two more of them.
A hundred paces away, the Brute he’d knocked over was getting to its feet—already molding itself to better counter his abilities.
“And what,” Eleanor panted, holding a hand to her side. “Do you think of our chances now?”
Jun looked out at the approaching trio of titans, and then back at her.
“Not good!” Y. Jun exclaimed cheerfully.
image [https://i.ibb.co/rw6tMBB/IMG-2711.png]
Inside The Pantheistic Workshop
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Once persecuted to near extinction by overzealous members of the royal family, a secretive society of undercover werewolves have since deeply entrenched themselves within the royal government. Covertly seating their lupine members in every important position throughout the corrupt bureaucracy.
Praying on the good people of the city state by night, and effectively ruling them by day, these werwolves sought to cement their rule by assassinating the royal family. With the plan being to seat one of their own kind on the throne instead. And so it was that, on a portentous, silver-moon lit night, one quickly dyed red with buckets of royal blood, their attempted coup went off without a hitch.
With perhaps one rather pertinent exception.
On that fateful night, the youngest princess, a girl of only thirteen years, somehow eluded their supernatural perimeter, leaving her the only living witness to the wholesale slaughter of her family. Living witness, and the last true contender for the throne. The only question on everyone’s mind after that bloody night—common citizenry and werwolf aristocracy alike—being:
“Where could the little princess possibly be hiding?” And for that matter, who had hidden her in the first place?
Well, everyone but Jun. Primarily because he’d been the one to rescue her.
Fat lot of good that’d done him. Who knew a princess of the realm could be so demanding? Talk about high maintenance. You saved her life one day, and then, once she’d gotten over the shock of her entire family being murdered, it was all nag nag nag.
Every minute, of every hour, of every day… It was exhausting. Apparently, an out of the way farmstead, two hours from the nearest town, which itself was located a quarter mile shy of the back end of nowhere, was no place for a noble lady, let alone one of her elevated station. Didn’t matter that its remoteness was entirely the point.
Not that she’d been complaining overly much recently. Not since she’d warmed up to that shy farm boy. He’d even caught her doing house chores on more than one occasion, though only when the messy haired boy was around. Seriously, did these people learn nothing from history.
From current events even.
As if this brewing war of succession they had going on wasn’t already complicated enough. In fact, this entire trial run had been so unexpectedly frustrating, from nearly beginning to end, that he honestly welcomed it when the werwolves attacked.
He was surrounded. Completely surrounded. Outnumbered, outweighed, outclassed by any reasonable metric. The farmstead at his back. His self-proclaimed charges huddling therein. The dusty farmyard cast in shades of etheric blue.
A silver luster.
Affecting windows and tufted fur alike. Setting them ablaze with cool radiance. Moon touched. Like someone had woven light into a brilliant blue cloth and cut out even shapes from the resulting fabric. The haunting beauty of the celestial body contrasted harshly by the bloodlust wafting from the six hulking, fur clad figures ahead.
The one at their head, the largest of the six, spoke up—his voice deep and strangely accented.
“I must say, you did good. Led us on quite the merry little chase,” he drawled. “Had us nipping at our tails more’n once, hunting you down. Really had me wondering, what kind of a man it was we were dealing with—to keep that royal chit upwind of us for so damned long. Only, come to find out, you’re barely a man grown yourself, ain’t you boy?”
Jun eyed the werwolves carefully as they slowly made to encircle him. Their balanced postures and easy gait evincing a dancer’s grace and explosive power. A terrifying sight to behold from any warrior, let alone these veritable giants. The smallest of which stood at a little over seven feet tall.
“Looks can be deceiving. You of all people should be able to relate.”
The wolves literally howled with laughter. Two of the younger wolves taking the others’ distraction as an opportunity to pick up their pace. Taking on a loping stride, they made as if to sidestep him entirely, and so be the first ones to enter the home.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Jun called out to them, never taking his eyes from their apparent leader. “She’s more trouble than she’s worth. Trust me.”
The leader barked a laugh, and the two juniors went still.
“Well, isn’t that the nifty little coincidence? Wouldn’t you know it? Seeing as we’re in the neighborhood and all, and I seem to find myself in a generous mood, we’d be willing to take her off your hands for you, free of charge.”
More howls. More hilarity. Jun made sure not to visibly tense up, though in his mind he was ready for just about anything.
“Well? What do you say, pup? You wanna go ahead and hand her over now? Or am I gonna have to go straight on through your sorry little-!”
“Oh, for the love of-! Shit, hold that thought, would you? I really need to take this.”
Jun blinked away the initial purple screen solely meant to get his attention.
“What’s up? Kind of in the middle of something here,” Jun said to what was effectively thin air.
The werwolves were perplexed at first, then they grew outraged.
I just thought you should be aware that your mortal coil is not long for this, or, indeed, any other of the known worlds I am currently aware of.
Sensing that they were being disrespected somehow, the half-beast half-men didn’t even bother bandying words about. They merely threw themselves at him, faster than the mortal eye could track, jaws dripping saliva and wicked claws extended. Jun only spared them a look before reciting what was quickly becoming one of his more favored mantras.
Mantra: [Body’s Temple | Crushing Erosion] (3rd Tier)
My body the temple; my enemies the wave—let them crush themselves against my stability.
Grade: (Great Quality)
In an instant every part of his body, down to the minutest detail, was completely saturated with crushing aura—effectively transforming his body into a living chrome statue. Through and through. Insides and everything. The first claws to reach him skittered harmlessly off his freshly hardened skin. The second, more forceful attack, was rebounded with the same amount of force as was put in, effectively launching the werwolf off its feet.
“Damn. Already? Okay, but I’ll need you to give me the abbreviated version. I only have fifteen or so seconds before the backlash from Crushing Erosion kills me.”
I can do you one better. A recording from exactly twenty seconds ago. Relative to my time and not yours. Naturally.
Jun blinked, and a screen popped up in front of him, thankfully obscuring the frenetic scene of flashing claws and drooling canines. On it was shown a losing battle. One hard fought against hideous, pale creatures, the likes of which belonged in nightmares or the trial worlds. Not the spirit plain his spirit body was trapped in.
What the hell was going on in there?
Despite his confusion, he recognized that he was quickly running out of time. He only had seven or so more seconds before his mantra went critical, and he could already see that a few of the werewolves had forgone attacking him altogether, as it had more than proved meaningless, and were instead gravitating towards the farmstead at his back.
Studying the recording one last time, Jun pulled up the descriptions for each of the mantras he had in mind, modifying them a bit before he spoke.
Assimilate [Lancing Spear | Reaching Spear]. That should help with the pasty giants. And maybe [Field of Rose Petals] too, just for good measure.
Understood.
And really, that was all that he could do for himself for now. Everything else was either too weak or too unstable to be of use. He just hoped that the him who was out there knew what to do with what he’d sent.
Letting any lingering uncertainties go with a long exhale, Jun once more turned to the task at hand. He had some werewolves to kill and a farm boy to save. Oh, and the princess too, he supposed.
He’d probably have to save her too, now wouldn’t he?