Aurelian stood with his hands braced on his knees, and his eyes transfixed on the carnage around him.
Four more Arisen Skarnids had joined his first, and the five of them were even then engaged in violent contention with another wave of their living kin that threatened to wash over his position. His Anima Syphon and Anima Infusion skills had also improved, and reached level 12 and level 5 respectively.
The fight until that point had been a crimson haze of blood and violence, and he had finally been forced to turn off Dragon’s Gaze due to the sheer weight of mana drain it was imposing—and the weariness of his eyes. For all that he was far stronger, on paper, than likely any other mortal in the Realms at a similar stage of advancement; he was still only an untempered, and the power of Dragons was not so easily mastered.
Aurelian spat onto the sun-scorched ground and straightened himself with a grimace of discomfort, sourced from the slowly mending hole in his armour. A Skarnid had managed to pierce through with its pincers, and though his Arisen had torn it apart in a frenzy before it had managed to do any more harm, the wound had been horrific enough to take Aurelian out of the fight.
A liberal application of Anima Conversion, which had both leveled the skill up from 1 to 4 and turned the wound into a nasty bruise instead, managed to stave off any life-threatening or lasting damage from the strike. The problem, though, was that he’d subsequently lost essentially all of the Anima he’d been stockpiling for another Arisen.
A quick glance at his HUD told the story.
Health: 721/950 | Mana: 110/378 | Stamina: 275/275 | Anima: 6
Aurelian sighed when he read over the merciless accounting of his status, and turned his attention back to the three Arisen. They in their own way had highlighted another problem, one which he did not have an immediate solution for. A new window had popped up the moment he’d raised his third Arisen, and it was that event which had surprised him so much he’d taken the blow that had very nearly killed him.
As if being attacked by nightmare spider-scorpions the size of horses wasn’t bad enough, he now had to deal with logistics. Aurelian grumbled at the memory of the window, and let his mind ‘access’ the System with the off-handed ease he’d grown accustomed to since his arrival in the Realms. The damnable new window was going to cause him endless headaches, he knew.
It remained at the edge of his awareness, and he pulled it to the fore easily.
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/846223109434114110/1196116432543563878/ALMS.PNG?ex=65b6753c&is=65a4003c&hm=eeef9570c3eea963026efa33c80e74ad70a26dddddc0192194aa96ff1595453e&]
Irritation, frustration, and even some begrudging relief warred within him while he once again looked over the new window and shook his head. The implication of the whole thing was simple enough: he was the ‘Blood Lord’ of the Legion, which seemed to correlate to both the person that raised it and the person that commanded it. He had checked to see if anything had changed when he’d managed to raise two more Skarnids after the initial window appearance, but there had been nothing.
The ‘Blood Knights’, however, represented a more interesting prospect.
In several real time strategy games he’d played, there were units a leader could recruit that allowed them to expand the size of their forces based on the unit’s command point value. In that sense, ‘Legion Point Bonus’ seemed to directly correlate to an expansion of the amount of Arisen he could summon—though the implication was that it required those same ‘Blood Knights’ to act as sub-commanders in order to maintain the greater numbers.
It was a relatively straightforward manner by which to increase one’s Legion size, though Aurelian had noticed something distinctly annoying: he could not appoint just anybody to the role. He had tried to will Karsys and Zylara into the Blood Knight position immediately, and the System had instantly and almost cheerfully informed him that they needed to be ‘Sanguinated’ prior to being eligible as Blood Knights.
In short, Aurelian needed to turn his new companions into pseudo-Vampires.
As much as the whole Vampire or Blood Lord concept was cool to him thanks to a lifetime of trashy television, dark fantasy novels, and power fantasy daydreams—he wondered momentarily if that one deadbeat Author had ever finished The Vitaean Chronicles—which had informed his viewpoints; that did not mean denizens of the Realms would share his enthusiasm.
The only version of ‘Vampires’ that they knew were likely the Vasiri.
If that was what Aurelian had heard of his entire life, he’d hate Vampires.
Aurelian suspected that the only reason Karsys and Zylara seemed so incredibly unbothered by all of his strange and decidedly dark powers was because he was the Reclaimer. If he wanted to run around as some sort of upgraded Vasiri with a more positive attitude, he doubted they’d offer much to gainsay him, so long as he wielded that power to protect Sanctuary and save them from both the undead horde sent by Absolum and False Mantle.
Becoming his cultist-adjacent pseudo-Vampire followers? Probably not.
Aurelian looked toward the Skarnid Behemoth while he let his mana regeneration and health regeneration do its work, and kept half his attention peeled for any Skarnids that broke through his Arisen blockade. The Behemoth was not dead, but it had been reduced to what amounted to a lame duck.
Karsys had managed to cripple the creature well enough after Aurelian’s own contributions that—other than the occasional pathetic snarl or screech—it seemed resigned to simply lie there and wait to see the outcome of the Skarnids’ mass swarming.
With the five extremely durable Arisen acting as his shield, Aurelian was able to survey the area with only moderate concern for his safety. The Skarnids by and large appeared terrified of his minions, and that alone was a kind of shield. His attention moved to find Zylara again, and he spotted her leaping across a small formation of low rooftops and the ruined framework of destroyed siege weapons while dancing away from screeching Skarnids.
Karsys was holding his own comfortably in a natural chokepoint, and appeared to be taunting as many of the creatures as he could with regular and healthy use of his skills—at which point Bahamut would swoop down and deliver a pillar of dragonfire that detonated half a dozen of the creatures at a time.
Another wave of brave Corrupted Skarnids crashed into the polished onyx wall of his Arisen, and the spider-scorpion creatures were torn apart by his minions—each of which consumed every iota of Anima from the enemies they fought. That, Aurelian had quickly realised, would be another point of issue: gathering the Anima he needed without crippling the self-repair capabilities of his fledgling Legion.
“I should go get more Arisen before Bahamut obliterates them all…” he muttered while looking over Zylara’s path of movement and the steady trail of corpses she’d left behind her. Bahamut had subsequently detonated the vast majority of them—either out of ‘double tap’ insurance or sheer loathing for their existence—with enthusiastic applications of dragonfire, even while knowing Aurelian’s plans.
For all that the dragon had wisdom, he was still very young in many ways.
Aurelian knew that they weren’t out of danger, of course. His companions had likely survived far worse than Skarnids to reach the palace at the heart of Albion, and both seemed far more hardy than he’d initially believed them to be—thanks no doubt to the chasm-like difference between their bodies and his. That didn’t mean they couldn’t die from a wrong move, unlucky strike, or mistimed dodge just as easily as anyone else.
Even with only their first Temper behind them, the pair fought with a grace and confidence that Aurelian could only emulate thanks to his insane bonuses and System-aided advantages. Had he not possessed what were frankly unhinged levels of what he thought of as cheat codes, he’d probably be dead ten times over. It was easy to forget that he was traveling with two people that, in every way that mattered, made his own experiences relatively trivial.
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Well, with perhaps a couple of exceptions.
Yet even with all of that power and experience, they were not invincible.
“Keep them held here!” he called to the five Arisen, who were even then tearing apart the last remnants of the latest wave. “Join me once there’s no more Skarnids in this battle zone, but don’t chase after any that run away. We can just kill them later.”
A wave of acceptance came from the five tethers he could picture now only in his mind’s eye connecting him to the five Arisen, and they skittered forward with disturbing celerity upon their eight spider-like chitinous legs to engage the remaining masses of Corrupted Skarnids in the immediate area.
Aurelian let them skitter off and turned to look between Karsys and Zylara.
Bahamut, who needs my help more?
The elf maiden. Bahamut returned instantly. The human is doing well with his new armament, and his skills seem to be well-built for dramatically increasing his capacity for survival based on the increasing number of foes coming his way. Between the two of us, we can manage even twice this many so long as he cannot be flanked.
Then what’s wrong with Zylara? he asked while setting off toward the elven archer despite the question.
She is a precision combatant, and is ideal for singular or small group engagements. This is an open theatre, and her advantages are being nullified slowly by sheer numbers. Eventually she will flag or falter, fail to evade an acid attack, and the subsequent disorientation or wound will leave her as easy prey for the swarm.
Aurelian grimaced at the merciless analysis while he walked. That’s morbid.
It is merely the truth of the situation. Bahamut affirmed.
Alright. I’ll go help Zylara. You keep with Karsys, and please stop blowing up so many of the corpses. I need to use them to harvest Anima.
It is repulsive to think you are using energy from these abominations.
Yeah, well, beggars can’t be choosers. Just cool it with the A-10 impression.
What is this ‘A-10’? the dragon enquired.
In response, Aurelian sent his memories, impressions, and imagery along the bond to help the Dragon King understand.
Bahamut’s subsequent surge of approval made him chuckle.
The rumbling draconic ‘BRRRT’ impression that filled the air during the next firebreath set Aurelian to cackling and with a sense of urgency coursing through his veins, broke into a steady run. His boots pounded against the broken pavement, a rhythmic echo in the desolate landscape. He cycled mana through his body, feeling its energizing flow intertwine with his every sinew and nerve while he moved.
Unlocking his Chakras had proven to be a boon beyond question for his mana reserves and regeneration, and without the added depth and versatility of the energy source he doubted he’d have been half as effective as he was. It was interesting how adjacent the entire practice was to eastern theories of Cultivation and Immortal energies on Earth—though he waylaid that train of thought before it went too far.
He had to reach Zylara first. He could wax philosophical when she was safe.
The path he’d chosen took him through a section of particularly dense ruined buildings, and althought it was less than ideal, the alternative was adding three times the length to his journey by attempting to skirt around to the next cratered and open section. If what Bahamut had said was true, he didn’t have that kind of time.
He strode into the shadowed echoes of Albion’s greatness with grim resolve.
Aurelian’s eyes, sharp and vigilant, scanned the ruins around him while he proceeded—and allowed him to gaze upon a landscape littered with the carcasses of once-majestic buildings, ruined and claimed by entropy and the uncaring invasion of creatures of both greater and lesser strength than the Skarnids that even then sought the death of his nascent party.
While he maneuvered through this graveyard of civilization, his path took him past several structures that had succumbed to decay and destruction. The first was a skeletal frame of what might have once been a grand hall, its walls now reduced to mere fragments. The second, a series of collapsed dwellings, lay strewn across his path like a puzzle of despair. It was here, in the shadow of broken memories, that danger struck.
Just as Aurelian was threading his way between the tangled rebar and stone, a Skarnid pulsing with corrosive blight launched its ambush from above. It descended like a grotesque marionette, its maw agape with a glistening spray of acid Aurelian realized—belatedly—his Dragon’s Gaze could have warned him about.
With reflexes honed by countless battles, Aurelian threw himself into a backward roll. He felt the heat of the acid as it splashed where he had stood moments before, its hiss a venomous whisper in the air. Dragon’s Gaze flashed to life the moment he completed his dodge, and he suppressed the anger and embarrassment of failing to re-engage the critical skill.
“Fucking idiot.” he growled at himself while letting his mana build.
Aurelian kept his crest held aside, and instead extended his left palm toward the descending Skarnid. His eyes, icy pools of concentration shining with the effects of Dragon’s Gaze, focused intently on the spider-scorpion with every ounce of anger he felt toward himself—and toward it.
In that instant, Force magic surged within him, answering his call in a flood of power and might that sent a ripple of giddy anticipation through body. It crackled to life in his palm, a storm of potential just waiting to be unleashed. With a wordless snarl, a sound more of primal instinct than any conscious thought, he compressed his fingers into a fist.
The air seemed to tremble with the force of his will and the potency of the spell.
Aetheric lightning snapped at the air like the eddies of a brewing maelstrom.
The Skarnid, caught in the invisible grasp of his magic, had no time to react. Its head imploded in a grotesque symphony of green-black goo and brain matter. The body, now headless, plummeted to the ground with a sickening thud. The threat was extinguished as quickly as it had appeared, and with far greater efficiency than Aurelian had been capable of even two days prior.
Gravitic Crush is now Level 22!
Aurelian stood over the fallen creature and regarded it balefully for a moment. His senses remained alert while he did, and he used Dragon’s Gaze to quickly scan for any more threats lurking in the shadows of the ruins. When none were found, and after he was momentarily assured of his immediate safety, he then focused on the fallen Skarnid.
Aurelian extended his hand to touch its mottled, spiked, and corrupted chitinous exoskeleton, and syphoned the Anima from the creature's corpse. The essence flowed into him with disappointing sparsity, and he sighed at how little power the Skarnids offered despite the immensely disproportionate cost of raising them.
You have gained 3 Anima!
With the Anima absorbed and no other threats to deal with, Aurelian did not linger. He cast a final glance at the scene of the skirmish, and then another down at his left hand—which even then continued to faintly shimmer with the remembered currents of his Force magic. The power he’d felt had been beyond any incarnation of the magic prior, and it demanded investigation.
Another mystery to solve when he had time.
He was really starting to get tired of having to wait.
“Zylara first,” he reminded himself, “and then funky magical reactions later.”
Anima Syphon is now Level 13!
During his passage through the scattered ruins of various Elysean buildings and infrastructure, Skarnid ambushes became a frequent, yet manageable, nuisance. Dragon’s gaze gave him an incredible advantage. Each time, whether facing a lone creature or the rare pair or more daring enough to attack in unison, he killed them with a brutality that he hoped dissuaded any other attempts.
His use of Force magic continued to display strange levels of enhanced power.
Gravitic Crush is now Level 23!
With each victory, Aurelian harvested the Anima, the vital essence of his vanquished foes, before continuing his journey. At one point, he briefly entertained the idea of using the Skarnids to his advantage, and creating more Arisen to help clear the way and aid Zylara when he got to her.
However, after careful consideration, he decided against it.
Aurelian’s reluctance stemmed from a different plan taking shape in his mind, which theoretically required a substantial reserve of Anima. This idea, if successful, promised not only to aid him in his immediate quest but also to pave the way for future alliances. Successfully executing his hare-brained scheme could potentially endear him to the people of Sanctuary upon his arrival, and smooth their own concerns.
Well, assuming Bahamut didn’t do that by existing.
More importantly, he noted, it might provide the leverage needed to persuade Karsys and Zylara to embrace a transformation similar to his own. The strategy, which also involved turning his newfound abilities into a cajoling carrot of sorts, was risky—but if it worked, the rewards for his success would be massive.
Even without counting the increased numbers for his Arisen Legion.
The key, though, was understanding the transformation part of it all.
Aurelian knew he’d gained access to a ‘Sanguine Kiss’, which allowed him to give some measure of his new power to those he chose—though the details, process, and results remained ambiguous. He suspected that his reward for raising the first of his Arisen, namely the Chalice and Codex Sanguinaris, would shed some light on the whole thing… though first he needed to carve out the time to accept and use the rewards.
“First I’ll save her, then I’ll try out the new idea.” he muttered while approaching the exit back toward the more open section of the city Zylara had been fighting through. “And let’s hope that she—”
Aurelian’s words died in his throat when he heard Zylara scream in agony.
Hurry, Aurelian! Bahamut urged alongside an air-shaking roar.
Alarm lanced through him, and Aurelian put on a burst of superhuman speed.
He emerged moments later into the open once more, and witnessed a nightmare.