Zelsys proceeded to recount her mindscape conversation with the Second King as well as the fact Victor had passed the initial Despot of Self breakthrough… As well as the facts that the titan Teutobochus was guarding a Fallen Star and that it could be controlled by a living possessor of the Second King’s authority, meaning that Victor defeating his grandfather would be vastly beneficial not just by ensuring that the redhead wouldn’t get bodysnatched.
“...He already agreed to the whole thing, but I honestly expected at least a bit of hesitation. Not a shred of it.”
“Of course he agreed, it was you asking! And what red-blooded man wouldn’t agree to such a thing?” Zef replied in exasperation, as if she had just been just told that water was wet. She sighed: “Hell, the first time I saw a walking tank I damn-near signed up for Tankman training. You already have a course of action thought out, don’t you?”
“You know me so well,” Zel grinned. “You’ll leave with me when I depart for the Immortal Throne, then split off and head to the site Teutobochus is guarding.
“I take it you’ll want me to break the Black Nail sometime soon, yeah?”
“We can probably just do it once he comes back.”
And indeed, they could, and they did. For once, there was no unforeseen factor to complicate things.
“I wonder, how’s Red? Why hasn’t she come to challenge me in person?” Zel asked.
“She’s stuck in the jungle. Seems she dealt with an outlaw in one of the jungle settlements and got marked by association, the city’s barrier won’t let her through. It apparently fades in a couple weeks, at least according to Yvonne,” Zef answered.
“Really? I would’ve expected the Boreans to chase her off or somesuch.”
“...Honestly, I don’t think the Hulsons even knew who she was before she saved them from Eisengeist. Wouldn’t be surprised if she was similarly unknown by other Boreans.”
Zel nodded: “True. Lady Zhumei Karmesin doesn’t exactly line up with the Red Mantis I detailed in my books.”
“You wrote her as a half-insane puppet constantly struggling against the Locust Queen’s control.”
“She hasn’t brought it up, and I’m absolutely certain she has read the books.”
This time, Zefaris nodded: “True. She can’t exactly claim it’s an inaccurate portrayal… And I doubt she’s eager to associate with that identity.”
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They went through with the dispelling ritual immediately upon Victor’s return. In fact, the redhead found himself snatched straight out of the hallway and into Zel and Zef’s room. It was a slightly involved affair, taking a few minutes of preparation on Zef’s part and a composite glyph made from a few dozen individual pieces. It was just plastered on the writing desk, in a spot of cleared space amidst notebooks and papers, themselves covered in eye-pulling sketches of eldritch glyphs. While the preparations were underway, Zelsys kept a tight hold on the Antediluvian Gem just in case.
Both Victor and Zefaris had to participate, with her grasping the Black Nail and him doing the same with the effigy of himself, their hands meeting above the glyph.
The composite glyph’s constituent talismans enveloped their hands upon the rite’s activation, and upon a signal from Zefaris, they both pulled. The paper cocoon ripped down the middle, and in seconds, everything involved in the ritual disintegrated with flashes of horrid magenta light - the Black Nail, the compressed paper effigy, and the dispelling talismans alike.
Instantaneously, the Antediluvian Gem lit up and floated from Zel’s hand, tugging at the cord in her grasp. A split-second later, the gem ripped free and rocketed straight into Victor’s chest, embedding into his chest-plate right over his heart. The redhead collapsed where he stood, only saved from a fall to the ground by Zel’s quick reaction. She snatched him up like a ragdoll and carried him back to his room, Zefaris following in tow.
“That was unduly fast,” the blonde remarked.
The gem’s aquamarine glow spread out through the cracks in Vic’s bone plating which its impact had formed. It pulsed to the rhythm of his heart beat.
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A red-maned figure rode upon a great beast of flame and rancor through an unending ossuary. Great lakes dotted the landscape. A vast fortress’ spires reached into the heavens in the north, and a great volcano spewed monochrome magma to the east.
From the heavens an aquamarine gemstone plummeted, its shape that of two stretched pyramids stacked end-to-end. Out of it emerged a figure in robes made of stitched-together faces, grasping a staff in the shape of a skeletal hand, grasping a pale blue dragon’s eye. The goatee-like protuberance of bone on his chin swept out to the sides to cover his jaws. Above his quietly excited, pale blue eyes, in the middle of his forehead, there stared forth an inhuman Homuculus Eye, its emerald green iris broken up by a cruciform pupil. His hair was the exact same shade as Victor’s, but shorter and slicked back, a few strands hanging in front of his face.
Not waiting a moment, Victor raised a hand. Chunks of bone flew in from nowhere, taking the form of a boxy belt buckle with eight distinct segments, four each pointing to the left and right. He pressed it to his waist, and yet more bone flew to his beck and call to form the belt. The great flaming beast upon whose back he stood gave way under his feet, swirling into a maelstrom as he fell and slamming into place around him. In his hand sat a jagged key of bone and he slotted it into the side of the belt, but didn’t turn it. As such, his armor’s helmet remained open.
“Finally, we meet face to face, grandson of mine, heir of my legacy!” Koschei bellowed rapturously. He snapped his fingers and his robes changed to something a bit less macabre, mirroring his grandson; a heavy suit of armor made from bleached bone, with an undersuit of pulsating flesh. It had comically wide, spiked pauldrons, and a cloak of spines trailed behind it.
No clash came.