You have gained Experience!

Aurelian strode through the towering canopies of the corrupted manawood trees in silence with Bahamut at his side, his eyes tracing the scorched remnants of the dead trees he and the dragon had destroyed in their battle, as well as the myriad of other corrupted samples quietly suffering within the arboretum. His heart faintly ached for them in a way he never expected he’d feel about trees of all things. The burning of the Vasiri’s corpse had gone some way to give justice to the ancient giants, but it was far too little a balm for his liking.

The way that Lycinius had described what he’d done, as vague as it might have been, had stayed with Aurelian. The manawoods were inherently things of peace and true, undefiled nature. To have them twisted and mutated in such a manner was beyond horrific. It hurt a deep part of him that he rarely connected with, but which loved the beauty and harmony of clean mountain air, open fields of grass, and towering beautiful trees.

It likely drew back to the hikes his family would take every year in different countries in Europe.

He found himself cherishing those memories, and fighting against the upwelling of homesickness that followed them. He had largely come to terms with the general grief of being transmigrated to a new reality, and had — if not fully accepted — rationalised the fact he’d likely never see earth again. Probably.

A glance at Bahamut followed the thought and he smiled slightly.

There were some perks to the whole thing, after all.

What is it that occupies your thoughts, Aurelian? The dragon asked curiously.

“Just thinking about my old home,” he said conversationally while they walked, “and how my family might have reacted to you. Dragons don’t exist in my original world.”

They do not? Were they eliminated?

“Nah, they just never manifested in the same way. I don’t really get why not, but I feel like it probably has something to do with the System. It could find me on Earth, but somehow has no impact on… huh…” He trailed off while speaking when a thought came to him.

What is it?

“I was just thinking… maybe the System isn’t as lacking in influence as I wagered. I mean… we have all these legends, right? Stories about orcs and goblins and wizards and dragons and stuff. Maybe it’s like a bleed effect or something.”

A reflective element of the System?

“Yeah! Like how sometimes you see a distorted reflection in water, you know?”

I do not.

“Oh. Right. Uhh…” He searched for a better analogy for a moment. “It’s sort of like looking at something but not quite seeing what it actually is, and instead seeing a sort of blurry or hazy representation of it. Maybe the System did that to the, like, brains? Minds? Whatever. To the people where I come from. They had all these ideas because of a kinda… uh…”

Bleed effect.

“Precisely!” He said with a nod and snap of his armoured fingers. “Yeah. It’s wild to think about, but it could very well be true, innit? The whole idea of the System sorta showing itself through subconscious osmosis? Sounds just like something that might happen.”

Then why not simply integrate your world?

“I don’t know. Maybe it isn’t that simple. I don’t have those answers, bud.”

Perhaps my Sire will know.

“That’s a good point.” Aurelian said while they walked toward the entrance to the Aboretum. “I should ask Bael’tharax about it. Maybe he’ll have some insights.”

He may not share them, if the knowledge is forbidden.

“Like his and your character sheets?”

Character sheets?

“Animus Registries.” He clarified with a quick search of his memory.

Ah. I cannot offer you access to my entire one, no. However I could grant you access to a curated version. I did speak to my Sire of this, but it was never quite relevant.

“Wait, really?! Fuck yeah, Bahamut. Let’s see it!”

A wave of amusement came from the dragon, and Aurelian’s vision lit up with a prompt.

Bahamut has invited you to view his Character Sheet (Redacted).

Do you accept?

Y / N

Aurelian mentally hit the ‘YES’ option, and then his eyes widened at the information that flooded into his vision.

Name: Bahamut

Bonded Temper: Partial Temper (Purified Novitiate)

Core: Platinum Dragon Core (Young)

Level: 8 | Race: Platinum Dragon (T) | Origin: Draconic (E) | Gender: Male

Health: 680 | Mana: 239 | Stamina: 221

STR: 48 | AGI: 37 | DEX: 32 | VIT: 68 | END: 51 | INT: 65 | PER: 80 | WIL: 44 | CHA: 38

Mind Skills: Draconic Analysis (E) 17 | Dragon’s Resolve (E) 20 | Dragon’s Gaze (E) 15 |

Body Skills: Dragon’s Fortitude (E) 22 | Dragon’s Roar (E) 12 | Dragon’s Claws (E) 21 | Dragon’s Flight (E) 15 | Dragon’s Alacrity (E) 14

Spirit Skills: Platinum Manaforce (L) 24 | Spirit Bond: Nephilim (T) 12 | Dragon’s Breath (E) 18 | Fire Mastery (E) 22 | Air Mastery (E) 17 | Force Mastery (E) 8

Traits: Monarch’s Grace (L) | Platinum Dragon (T) | Calamity’s Tether (T) | Eternal Guardian (T) | Truesight (L)

Titles: Dragon Prince (L) | Calamity’s Bond (T) | Shadow of Intent (E) | Perdition’s Claws (L)

Languages: Draconic

36% to Level 9

Aurelian stared at the details of Bahamut’s sheet with ever-growing incredulity. Everything was at minimum of Epic rarity, and those were the baselines. His health, mana, and stamina all nearly matched Aurelian’s own at only level eight, and when he attempted to pry as to why that was happening, he was shut out by a negative notification. That was likely by design, given that large portions of Bahamut’s sheet were supposed to be secret. Still, the sheer scale of power inherent to the Dragon’s implied growth was… staggering.

His bond was very likely to become terrifying in the months to follow.

“How fast do you gain levels?” He asked while pouring over the sheet.

Slower than you by several orders of magnitude, and slower still based on the enemies we fight. The System rewards challenge, Aurelian. It will not grant us much in the way of growth if we are not adhering to that precept.

“So the more lethal the fights, the faster we both grow?”

Indeed, and with each Temper that growth becomes harder to attain. We will have a very bloody path ahead of us if we are to gain enough power to castigate the gods for their transgressions.

“We’re not going to castigate them, Bahamut.”

You are not?

“No. We’re going to kill them. Every last one.”

I see. Very well.

There was something incredibly warming about the utter lack of doubt, concern, or question in the dragon’s thoughts while they spoke. Aurelian declared an intent — one which still left him somewhat uncertain in truth — that any rational person would at least question his surety on or capability of execution, and his bond merely took it in stride like he were declaring he’d climb a tree. He couldn’t tell if it was the Spirit Bond between them, but there was an absolute belief in his capability that radiated through Bahamut.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

Had Aurelian not experienced the bond himself, he’d have questioned how they could possibly be so intrinsically linked, but to explain the truth of how deep that connection ran it was almost impossible. Bahamut’s very Soulforce had been tethered and anchored with his own, and the connection between them was as if they were one spirit in two bodies. He could feel Bahamut like he could feel his own hand, or fingers.

The dragon was the heart beating in his chest, and the breath filling his lungs.

It was a love, a camaraderie, and a unity of mind, spirit, and Soulforce that transcended all definitions. He’d read books about it of course, but how could any author pen a passage that properly conveyed the esoteric depth of certainty he felt when looking at his dragon? He would shatter mountains, sunder the heavens, and divert the oceans to protect Bahamut. It was a sentiment he knew the dragon shared.

The scary part was that, one day, Bahamut truly would be capable of such feats.

It was a lot to think about.

It was a heavy burden to bear.

“We’ll return to Bael’tharax and Tarixi, and tell them what we’ve found out from Lycinius. Then we’re going to raid the armoury and make our way to that Elysean holdout in the… Desolation? Yeah. Whatever the hell that is.”

Through context I would infer it is where we currently are.

“I thought we were in Avalon?”

I believe the implication is that Elysea is the Desolation.

“Oh. Oh. Shit. That’s dark.”

Bahamut growled in placid agreement and Aurelian ruminated on the fact while they stepped toward the end of the expansive fields of corrupted manawoods littering the arboretum. Being in the middle of some sort of wasteland was not exactly opportune, and from what the Vasiri had described he could expect some horror blend between Mad Max, Fallout, and the creepy blight from every epic fantasy novel ever written.

“Probably no radroaches though. I hope.” He muttered.

Radroaches?

“Don’t jinx it.” Aurelian grunted.

Aurelian.

“No, Bahamut. I do not want to deal with goddamn Radro—”

Aurelian.

Aurelian stopped mid-gripe and turned to face the dragon, who had halted in his tracks. “What is it?” He asked while tracking his partner’s gaze toward where his golden eyes stared into the shadows between several clustered manawood trees. He could barely make anything out, given the density of the shadows in that particular spot… but Bahamut had vastly better perception than he did.

Use your Dragon’s Sight.

Aurelian raised an eyebrow but complied without argument. The skill triggered a veil immediately, like a new filter coming across the world and revealing motes of ambient mana in a plethora of colours. He could almost taste them in a way.

“What am I looking for?” He asked while looking vaguely in the direction Bahamut was. The mana motes were distracting.

There is a large concentration of shadow mana between those trees, and it is veiling something.

Aurelian glanced at the dragon again and then drew his crest from its sheath under his recovered supply pack. He gripped the blade in both hands and moved forward, expression wary while he advanced toward the point between the manawoods. His Dragon’s Gaze sharpened while he drew closer and his perception’s assistance made itself known, and Aurelian started to get a better grasp of what the dragon was talking about.

Dragon’s Gaze is now Level 13!

A dense compaction of shadow mana sat like substantive cocoons around what appeared to be some sort of collection of large ovular objects, hiding them from view with predatory cunning. Had the dragon not spotted them — likely due to his own increased perception from recent levels — and the pair of them not ventured back this particular route toward the exit of the arboretum, it was very likely they’d have never discovered the oddities.

It was pure luck.

“Could be egg sacs or some sort of larval form Skarnid,” he reasoned to the dragon that prowled carefully at his side. “What do you think?”

I cannot penetrate the shadow veil surrounding the objects, only discern their shape.

“Yeah that’s my issue too.” He agreed while moving ever-closer. “I’m inclined to just incinerate it, but I’d rather not destroy the trees by accident. I still want to see if there’s a way to save them. By all accounts they’d be a tremendous asset for later.”

I agree. I will save my flames for a clear threat.

Aurelian heartily concurred with that. Bahamut’s fire, for reasons that likely made perfect sense, was far hotter than anything Aurelian could produce with any success. Something about the dragon’s nature, or perhaps Bahamut’s specific Platinum origins, made the fire intensely more potent and destructive. The scene of the flames practically disintegrating the Corrupted Skarnid chitin was still firmly imprinted in his memory.

“Appreciate the restraint, buddy.” Aurelian said while edging warily in under the manawoods. The trees’ pain was visceral to his Soul Sense while standing so close, and he could almost hear their tormented spirits crying out while he moved between them. It was enough to be discomforting, enraging, and nauseating all at once. He promised himself there and then that he’d do his best to follow through with cleansing them. They deserved that much, after what had been done to them.

One good factor of the trees’ age was the space between their massive trunks, given their roots had grown down and the large manawoods had grown slightly apart to account for such, as well as likely been planted apart. Aurelian was able to slip nicely between them and closer to the recess, or rather small grove between the trees, that housed the shadowy something whose greyish saturation of mana was all but blazing to his enhanced vision.

Get ready for bullshit. He said to the dragon telepathically. I’m going to try to cut through it.

Is that not reckless? Bahamut queried.

Do you honestly care? Aurelian retorted with amusement.

Mm. No. I shall await the results.

Swallowing back the chuckle that threatened to emerge at the dragon’s candour, Aurelian dismissed his Dragon’s Sight and allowed his normal vision to align to the deeper-than-dark shadows clinging to the massive, vaguely ovular shapes before him. There were six of them in total, and Aurelian felt a cold feeling sliding down his spine at the sight of them. “Alright. Here goes nothing…” He muttered while lifting his sword.

Using caution just in case he were about to encounter the isekai version of a delicate lootbox, Aurelian cut shallowly into the shadow-wrapped cocoon closest to him. The moment he did some sort of interaction flared between the runesteel and shadow mana, and the cocoon of darkness shattered almost instantly.

Aurelian cursed out loud when multiple white ovals of woven spidersilk were thrust into his vision, and fully three of them had been broken open.

No, not broken, cracked.

Aurelian stared with growing revulsion at what appeared to be bloodied, charnel carrying cages filled with the rotting remnants of previous meals. Bloodstains, discarded pieces of viscera, and even a small saturation of different coloured hair that clung to the interior webbing nearly made him want to throw up on the spot. Only his Dragon’s Resolve held the instinctive bile at bay, and allowed him to remember to use Revelate.

Name: Skarnid Silk Sac

Type: Container

Description: Used by the Arachnids of the blight to store their excess prey for later consumption, these sacs use a mixture of pseudo-amniotic fluid and embalming essences to maintain the prey in a semi-conscious state of partial delirium, and maintain their body heat for satisfying later consumption. It is an excellent material for use in the storage and preservation of food stuffs.

Aurelian read the description of the sacs with dawning horror, and felt his blood run cold at what it implied. Food. Prey. People. Had the Vasiri known? Why hadn’t he fed? The questions he had mounted quickly. It made no sense. Why would Lycinius not eat the Skarnid’s food? Unless…

“Unless he didn’t have as good of a hold on them as he seemed to imply.” Aurelian muttered. “Which means that maybe the rest of the beasts they’ve converted are less than entirely controlled. That is… worrying, to say the least.” He stepped around and toward the other two split open sacs and grimaced at the stench and results within. The third one actually still had the partially eaten corpse of someone unrecognisable within, and Aurelian had to placed his gauntleted fist to his mouth to swallow back the vomit that threatened to rise.

No words could ever describe how utterly vile the sight and smell that greeted him was.

I sense that you are in distress, Aurelian.

“Yeah.” He called back now that he was confident they were alone. “You seeing this shit?”

I am able to analyse the sacs, yes. It is quite disgusting, though it does make sense.

“I’m glad one of us is coping with it all.”

Dragons are not so easily bothered by such trifles, Aurelian.

Aurelian rolled his eyes at the layer of smugness in his bond’s thoughts and moved on to the remaining three sacs. There was a pit forming in his stomach by that point, sourced in the dread he felt at what might be waiting for him within the remaining three. He took a moment to steady himself and, once that was done, lifted his blade and very carefully started to cut through the outer layer of the silk.

What he could only call a membrane of completely transparent liquid split open from around the outside of the sac when he started to cut, and Aurelian had a moment of bewilderment before he realised that it was likely some sort of naturally secreted substance to ‘seal in’ the preserving qualities of the sacs.

He suppressed a shudder and went back to his work.

The sac itself was cut open moments later and, much like a blister with its pressure relieved, a burst of contained air erupted out of the deflating sac the moment he made entrance into its depths. Aurelian staggered backward from the sudden concentration of rot, body fluids, and faecal stench with an abrupt about face and prompt emptying of his stomach. Not even his Dragon’s Resolve’s skill could account for the sheer mass of grotesque sensory overload opening the sac impacted him with.

When he’d finished coughing up what little bile he had to spare, and making a note to eat another quarter of one of the essence loaves as soon as he could; Aurelian turned back to the opened sac warily while wiping his mouth. The sight that greeted him made him glad he’d already thrown up.

A corpse frozen in a rictus of terror looked back at him with glassy eyes, and with the stench of days-old excrement and urine wafting from within the sac. Blood congealed and coated several of the creature’s nails from where, by Aurelian’s reckoning, they had actually clawed open their own wrists to end their presumed suffering. The sight was… terrible. Vomit stained what looked like once-pristine white bandages covering the corpse from from neck to toes under a form-fitting set of leather armour, and despite his better judgement, Aurelian used Revelate.

Name: Tarnus Moyer

Race: Half-Elf

Level: 29

Tier: Aspirant

Health: 0/670

Description: Half-Elves are a surprisingly prolific species within the Realms, and are most often the result of Human and Elven copulation, though there are many examples of Elves crossbreeding with every major race in the Prime Material. Half Elves inherit different traits based on the gender of each parent species, the strength of their genes, and other such minutiae.

“Woah. There are horny elves in this world?” He muttered while reading the information. A smile flickered on his features for a moment while he made careful note of that fact, and then dismissed the prompt.

“Well Tarnus Moyer, I’m sorry this happened to you mate.” Aurelian said with a piteous look for the dead elf. “If I had some Anima, I might have even brought you back. Though… I really should check if that’s not some terrible sin.” He made another mental note to ask Bael’tharax about it, and then turned away from the already-rotting corpse. He’d make sure to burn the remains after he was done, but there were two more sacs to investigate.

You’re going to have to burn a few more corpses, bud. I’m sorry.

Such is the nature of the Realms, Aurelian. You need not apologise.

Sometimes Aurelian couldn’t decide if his dragon’s naturally pragmatic dismissal of all the horror in their shared reality was a good thing or something utterly terrifying, but in that moment he was grateful for it. It helped reassure him that the people he was about to excavate had died long before he’d ever have been able to save them.

A breath came in through his mouth and Aurelian, while grimacing at the stench from Tarnus, brought his blade up and then down to smoothly slit the fronts of the remaining two sacs. Best to just get it over with, was his logic. After all he’d had his fair filling of corpses and he just wanted the entire experience to be over and done with. Things were already far too macabre for his liking—

The figure in the first sac twitched.

Aurelian stared.

A pale elven woman clad in the same strange white bandages, leather vestments, and with a fluid-drenched mane of jet black hair opened her blue eyes to look directly at him.

“Hi.” Aurelian said in a nonplussed voice.

The woman stared at him in silence for several seconds, taking him in, and then focusing in on his eyes. After a moment of assessment, her eyes widened and then narrowed sharply, and she bared her teeth in a snarl.

Aurelian sighed.

The elf’s muscles coiled in visible preparation.

“I fucking hate this world.” He complained while bracing himself.

The elf lunged.