Teleportation was a disorienting and dangerous thing to do outside of carefully controlled circumstances. Outside of heroic abilities, it was impossible to teleport below the Bone-Forging Realm, and even then, only if special items were used a substantial cost incurred.
Sorin was, therefore, unsurprised when he encountered sudden spatial turbulence mid-teleportation, thinking it was just normal bad luck on his part. This feeling lasted only the fraction of a second it took him to remember this might just be another one of Melinoë's traps. He thanked his lucky stars for his strong armor and its powerful life-siphoning abilities.
Three seconds later, Sorin appeared on the square alongside the other competitors, ragged but still alive. Melinoë looked disappointed to see him but not surprised. Beside her, Charles was glaring daggers at him, as his success only further highlighted his dismal failure in the catacombs.
"Everyone who has survived the catacombs has now safely returned," said Administrator Pollen, descending upon the temple square. "Though many of you are doubtless excited to share what transpired in the second layer ruins, there is still one final part on the descent that must be resolved: your rightfully earned rewards."
Sorin glanced about and noted several powerful figures in attendance, including many presiding elders. No less than three Presiding Elders were present from his own faction, including Elder Nolan, Elder Marik, and Elder Claudius. Word of his status as a God Seed had indeed traveled quickly, and Administrator Pollen's words were likely a reminder that whatever their intentions, they would have to wait until the descent was officially over.
"As everyone has already received Lord Hope's Blessing, the reward this time around will take the form of a soul-bound treasure," explained Administrator Pollen. "Each soul-bound treasure is unique and will be tailored to your characteristics, with their relative strengths proportionate to the level of wish-fire sphere secured from the challenge.
"Do not underestimate the importance of these items. A cultivator may only possess a single soul-bound treasure in their lifetime. These treasures can evolve alongside their owner regardless of the cultivation realm they reach.
"In addition, these soul-bound treasures will all possess an additional quality that is not normally found in equipment: corruption resistance. By using its natural connection to your soul, these treasures will serve as a secondary shield against the corruption in the catacombs."
For a moment, Sorin was filled with trepidation. What would happen if he were in possession of such an item? But then he remembered the dual-natured wish-fire sphere and determined that all of this was likely within Lord Hope's calculations. His item would likely be different from the rest and be able to accommodate both corruption and divinity.
This time, no platforms appeared. Instead, each participant was surrounded by a corona of light that shared a color with their wish-fire sphere. All except Sorin's, that is. His dual-colored sphere instead manifested as a dark-gold corona to those observing him thanks to Lord Hope's fox-head amulet.
The next thing he knew, Sorin was in a musty old library. It was highly organized despite being filled to the brim with books, though he noticed some books had charred and unusual pages, and some bookshelves looked to have been burned to ashes.
Flames could be seen from where he was standing. Dark flames distorted and burned away at the packed books on the fringes. In addition, tiny golden veins could be seen through broken pieces of wood on the shelves that were less well maintained. A similar golden glow could be seen through chips and cracks in the library's concrete foundation.
While these things were all very interesting and probably deserved attention, Sorin found his attention forcibly dragged over to an open and secluded area in the library. There, he found a glass display case holding a black and gold object shifting between different shapes.
One moment, it was a cauldron. Another was a dagger. It shifted to become a needle, then a book, and even a pair of golden spectacles. His instincts told him that each item appeared extraordinary and would greatly benefit his cultivation.
Instinctively, Sorin reached out to the item and attempted to influence it, but he soon discovered that a connection already existed between the two of them. He realized that a battle was taking place in his subconscious—a battle between the various identities he had and the masks he wore.
Physician, Apothecary, and Adventurer.
Wielder of the Ten Thousand Poison Canon and cultivator of Violence and Madness.
Cautious. Calculating. Primed for murder and Vengeance. Impulsive.
Each of Sorin's identities, methods, and goals fought amongst themselves and sought to assert themselves as the dominant entity.
This continued for a time, but in the end, the clear winner was determined. Since a result was required, Sorin's aspects began to reconcile and compromise, slowly shrinking until they formed two orbs of black and gold metal that floated out of the glass display case and over to Sorin.
"Do you want me to place my hands on you?" Sorin asked. The orb pulsed affirmatively.
Sorin did as he was asked and was surprised to see his hands move through the orbs. A strange liquid metal coated his fingers and palms in a thin, almost invisible layer that thrummed with power and potential.
"Gloves?" muttered Sorin, and the molten metal melted into his skin, reducing the protection it offered but increasing his sense of touch and spiritual conductivity. Curious, he re-summoned the gloves and discovered that in this form, he would enjoy protection against most elements, corruption, spiritual invasion, and other threats a physician would face when treating patients.
"But not just gloves, " said Sorin. The moment the thought occurred to him, tiny metal balls split off from the gloves and elongated to form sewing needlers and acupuncture needles that could be manipulated according to his will.
The gloves also had other properties he liked: adaptability. They could be used to conduct any energy he wanted, including corruption. They also provided mana, spiritual, and spell amplification, which was stacked with his armor.
"Surely they can be used in combat, though," voiced Sorin. Instantly, the gloves shifted to form plates of malleable armor on his palms, the back of his hands, and his fingers. He realized that fighting barehanded with these gloves was not only possible but practical. What's more, they still retained their ability to shoot out and retract needles.
"But how will they interact with my daggers?" voiced Sorin. The answer, it turned out, was that they wouldn't. Instead, metal beaded up on the gloves and grew to form two daggers, one for each of his hands. At his command, they elongated to form short swords, and when he channeled Spear in a Haystack through the gloves, they elongated to perform a solid but very poisonous spear covered in gold and black runes that would serve as the perfect conduit for his powers.
If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
In terms of amplification, Sorin was a little disappointed; he'd spoken to Stephan and Daphne at length about weapon amplification and knew the limits of S-Tier gear. While these gloves performed more like A-Tier gear in this regard, they were the most versatile piece of equipment he'd ever had the pleasure of owning. They combined shape versatility, utility when crafting and practicing any of his professions, protection, as well as accommodating spell casting, spiritual projection, and delivering corruption.
There was also one other downside to the gloves: they did nothing to protect him against corruption or shield him from its emotional or mental effects.
It's obvious what you're planning, Hope, but I won't give in, thought Sorin. A shiver ran down his back as he realized he'd just done exactly that by drawing on Madness and Violence in his fight against the floor boss. I'm succumbing to corruption and not even realizing it!
On the whole, Sorin was very satisfied with these gloves. And since they had a slight amount of spirituality, he let them know. They buzzed around happily for a time before suddenly motioning for him to follow.
The gloves led him back to the burning library. The bookshelves, he saw, represented the way he stored knowledge. The building itself was a representation of his mind, spirit, and body.
The fire, of course, was the corruption threatening to consume his entire being. Though it was currently burning at a controlled pace, it remained that Sorin was effectively throwing pieces of his mind in the form of books and shelves at the fire in the hopes that it wouldn't spread to more important places.
It was the rot, however, that the gloves pointed to. Sorin kneeled to observe a small speck of gold he saw on the stone floor. He swept away at it, only to see the seemingly thick layer of concrete peel off, revealing golden veins that penetrated deep into the floor and could not be removed without destroying the entire building.
It seems I need to adjust my estimates, thought Sorin. Instead of a full year, it seems I have half a year at most, three months at a minimum. But any unforeseen events or encounters that force me to exert myself could change that.
Having confirmed that Sorin understood their message, the gloves informed him of their name: Nemesis. They were tools of enmity and could be pointed towards either foe or disease as Sorin required them. A physician is a deicer and a killer, thought Sorin as he was forced out of his mindscape and back into the temple square.
It was a bright day out, with not a cloud in the sky. The reasons were changing, and the forest beneath the temple resembled a carpet of red and gold. In some ways, it looked no different than when he'd arrived. But in other ways, it looked completely different.
My senses, thought Sorin as he looked around the square. They've changed.
From Melinoë, Charles, and Administrator Pollen, he could now clearly feel that they wanted him harm. This feeling was more acute than his usual read on people using Violence and was also more nuanced. For example, he could sense various levels of restraint in each individual that hinted to Sorin that they wouldn't act on these intentions in normal circumstances.
These senses also extended outward to include violent intentions between other individuals. A web of sorts encompassed all surviving heroes. Some of these connections were forcefully placed by Melinoë, but others were more natural and fully justified.
Then, there's a strange sensation when I look at Bast. A part of himself hates himself? What's going on? Wait, I remember diagnosing him with a chronic condition. Is that what I'm currently sensing?
"That concludes the second phase of the Shrine Descent," said Administrator Pollen before Sorin could work through the details. "The third phase will continue in four months when the coldness of winter reaches its peak. I wish you all the best in your preparations, and only have a single request: don't break through to the Flesh-Sanctification Realm. Not that most of you would be able to do so in the first place."
The minute Administrator Pollen vanished, the square erupted into chaos. Powerful auras bore down on Sorin from every direction. These auras were filled with malice and harmful intentions.
Fortunately, three auras quickly came to his aid and relieved the pressure. They formed a protective encirclement around Sorin, blocking off the violent auras before they could cause any damage.
"What is the meaning of this unwarranted attack," said Elder Marik, interposing himself between Sorin and the crowd of elder-level figures. "You all dare break the peace of Delphi? Have you not thought of the consequences?"
"That's what we should be asking you," said a crotchety old man who reeked of powerful poison. "You dare hide a God Seed in your clan and have him enter the trials with Charles without revealing his status? Is this yet another attempt at assassinating talented members of our family?"
"So, you can hide your talents, but we can't?" retorted Elder Marik. "Don't think I can't see through your schemes. Moreover, think of your status. Think of the accords. Also, think of Sorin's status with respect to the law.
"I know your family is desperate and angry after what happened three-fourFrom where he was standing, flames could be seen. Dark flames distorted and burned away at the packed books on the fringes. In addition, tiny golden veins could be seen through broken pieces of wood on the less well-maintained shelves years ago, but are you really willing to give up your life to kill a God Seed? God Seeds are humanity's most precious resources. There will be hell to pay for any individual or clan that dares kill him." He then drew an arc with his sword through all the elders present. "And don't think I can't see what you're all doing, goading an elder of the Hargrave Clan to do your dirty work. Do you think that only one of you will need to pay the price to claim his life? Naïve. If a single one of you dares make a move on Sorin, I'll accompany the rest of you in death."
For a minute, no one said anything. Each side was gauging the other's intentions and possibly engaging in covert discussions. Finally, a voice echoed from atop the temple, laying the matter to rest. "Sorin is confirmed to be a God Seed. Respect his status. If you have any complaints about him, you will proceed through official channels to resolve them."
The elder from the Hargrave Clan snorted. "Don't think this is over, Marik."
Elder Marik laughed. "You think I'm afraid of you? Maybe if it were your old man, I'd be a little more apprehensive. But someone like you, whose bones are little more than brittle shells hollowed out by the many poisons you've cultivated— I'd only need a single of my sword to take that crooked head from your worthless body."
Seeing that nothing would result from further confrontation, the elders gradually dispersed. Sorin's elders wasted no time in whisking him away towards their clan's Ancestral Manor. "I see clan politics are still a thing."
"Don't misunderstand," said Elder Nolan. "The moment your status as a God Seed was revealed, all clan elders in Delphi received a directive from the Grand Elder to protect you at all costs. Elder Samson is currently countering their assassins. Elder Simon is currently engaged in high-level negotiations. Elder Adrian is reinforcing our clan's spatial defenses and passages to prevent enemy intrusions, as well as facilitating communication with Olympia.
"As for us three, we were sent because we're the most suitable for keeping you safe. Yours truly is the best physician our clan has to offer in Delphi, and Elder Claudius is our best mage. As for Elder Marik, he can be considered one of the top five most powerful warriors in all of Delphi, excluding demigods."
"I'm not going to lie," said Sorin. "I half expected Elder Samson to stab me in the back the moment I returned."
Elder Marik scoffed. "Though I don't doubt Elder Samson and Elder Simon aren't pleased with this development, they wouldn't dare do something against you in the open. You are a God Seed, after all. Your existence is a blessing to the clan as a whole."
"Forgive me for remaining skeptical of the situation," said Sorin. "I was originally going to hide my status for as long as possible, but unfortunate circumstances during the Shrine Descent forced my hand."
"We'll need you to brief us on what transpired, of course," said Elder Marik. "You can do that while we keep you safe at the Ancestral Manor. We'll need to conduct an extensive security review that includes your friends and acquaintances before you leave."
Sorin sighed. "I don't suppose you're willing to cut the review short?"
"Anyone who wants to rush things will be doing it over my dead body," said Elder Marik sternly.
"When he says over his dead body, he means it," whispered Elder Nolan. "Elder Marik is a fairly tolerant individual, but when it comes to security reviews of important clan members, he takes them very seriously."