Ah. Resurrection. One of the finer powers possessed by few and mastered by fewer. Understand that the true preservation of one’s being—and usually the continuity of one’s consciousness as well—is what is so often desired.

Such a thing is possible. And I, among so few, can offer this boon to another and mend their poor, little broken hearts. And at my current power, it takes so little of me to peel the fabric of space and time, to grasp the state at which the lost were severed from existence, and to infuse them in a new vessel before the patterns are denied to me forever.

I could.

But rarely do I ever. Because even the smallest part of my power, the slightest act across time and against the threshold of death, might see me strained. Strained in this great game between rival Systems. Strained in this quest to consume all of existence.

Strained. Where I could do something else, and ensure my gain instead.

Many have asked me to bring back those they love. And bring them back I have. But so rarely do people consider what I, as the Harbinger, the master of these Claimed Hells desire.

And the ones that do… the understanding that you should never beg a Lord of Sin for the nectar of relief. For hope is the greatest poison of all, and through it, I can control how you fall, when you fall, and which way you fall.

The hearts most broken are easily reshaped. And vessels empty? Easily replaced.

-Mepheleon the Harbinger

92

The Sin of Hope

Wei lay there, staring on into Ellena’s open eyes as the last threads of his sanity threatened to unravel. In the backdrop, screams and sobs of broken fury sounded from Agnesia. With each blow she delivered against the Inheritor’s mangled body, black fire blossomed, swelling vast enough to blot out the sky above Wei, to ignite the ends of his hair.

Seever was broken. Too broken of perception to even know what was killing him. He was blind. He was deaf. He was tasteless. And he couldn’t even feel the strikes crashing against his body—perhaps he didn’t care either. His head lolled back after he beheaded Ellena, and he looked upward, face blank toward the sky in despair and defeat. Somewhere deep inside Wei where the dregs of his spirit still lingered, he recognized the expression—it was the same one he had.

They had inflicted shattering wounds on the other. One of sense, the other of their mind, and both succumbed to no will but their own, waiting for death to arrive.

Failed to resist trauma with Aspect of (Ambition)

The world grew darker. System notification crawled across Wei’s vision, but he dismissed them one after another. He was vacant of thoughts and strength, wishing only to fold into himself, to flee from existence itself. Again. He was unable to prevent her unjust fate. Again, he was nothing before the whims of a greater power. As the leviathans of Gluttony drew close and Agnesia continued her onslaught of madness, Wei stared on into Ellena’s eyes, lost there as his mother’s specter lay opposite to him.

It didn’t matter what followed. He was—

Ellena blinked. Wei felt a pulse of Essence escape her being, and her eyes began to move. The young master went still, uncertain if the last strings of his sanity finally snapped, or if the scene before him was true. Then, a cough escaped from Ellena, followed by actual words. “Wei?”

He struggled onto his side, flinching away in disbelief. She was just a head, how was she—

“I cannot… it hurts… Wei, please…”

The young master swallowed. A set of wild booms continued to fill the air as Agnesia brought down blow after blow. For all her growing power, she was still a Knight trying to kill a Marquis without any additional aid. Though Seever was ruined, his Constitution remained a tower that the girl struck at with a twig. It might take hours before she finally did any true harm, even with his flesh as ruined from the blast.

“Wei,” Ellena said once more. “Please. I am… I am afraid…”

The last vestiges of hesitation vanished in the young master. Could it be… Might this… “I am here,” he croaked. He swallowed after, his throat a tunnel of agony.

“Wei… I… I need… put me in the Inventory. There is… the Harbinger… he has reached me.”

The Harbinger. Mepheleon. So spent was Wei that it took him more than beat to catch up with the meaning behind her words. But when he finally understood, the flame of hope roared to life inside him like a wildfire through a jungle. This wasn’t done. He hadn’t failed! There was still a chance—the possibility of avenging his failure.

Resisting trauma with Aspect of (Ambition)

Wei snapped to action. He tried to rise, but winced as he recalled the broken state of his body. Rafael and Roggi entered the edge of his Omniscience, then, but more worrying were the sky-blotting demons that were about to crash down on their current position. They needed to leave now! And he was the only one with any chance of escaping. But his Lesser Hollow Mind wouldn’t heal him nearly fast enough, and a Potion of Regeneration couldn’t restore his Soulforged body.

The only option stood clear: he needed to harvest the resources for his restoration from the most puissant being nearby. And so, his solution led right back to Seever. Walls of black flame spread out from atop the misshapen mound that was the Inheritor’s body. Atop, Agnesia was screaming ceaseless, her draconic embodiment hammering its fists into the downed Project Leader, sending rolling waves of Wrathful power in a wide sphere.

Wei growled. He summoned his Path of the Martial Harvester once more. A scythe flared over him. A scythe that cast the world in monochromatic light. Agnesia froze as the brightness in her surroundings changed. She turned just in time to see the gleaming edge of his metaphysical blade descend. The scythe split clean through Seever’s skull, carried by Wei’s far-flung spear. A Vector Chain ensured its delivery—and the regeneration of some Scorn. What followed after was a shuddering echo of extreme brightness followed by abyssal dark and Seever crying out in spiritual agony at the blow.

A channel of Source flowed from a deep gash left in the Inheritor’s face, pouring over to Wei. The monochromatic Essence flowed into the young master’s body, melting into his wounds and molding missing limbs. With a snarl of frustration, Wei resummoned his spear before slashing out using a jet of water. Another scythe fell and with each piece that was carved out of the Inheritor’s being, Wei healed, restored by destruction.

“Agnesia!” Wei roared. “Your mother’s head—put her in your Inventory!”

The girl stared at him, with tears running down blazing eyes. She didn’t understand him, and he had little time to explain. “Agnesia! Your mother! She’s still alive! The Harbinger has preserved her! Put her in your Inventory now!”

Cleaved into Seever thrice more during that time, and with every blow he inflicted, his Authority Advanced at a staggering rate.

Source: [59/200]

Title Options Generated—

Skill Options Generated—

Wei dismissed more notifications. He would ascend once he escaped from this wretched place. With a final slash, he severed Seever’s head from the mutated hive of tissue he called and body, but the Inheritor’s Constitution stood testament to what could be achieved with a high enough Aspect.

“Fuck you, you little shit!” Seever growled, spitting hate even as his head rolled over to Wei. “Do you hear me! Fuck! You! I hope you—”

Whatever he had to say next went silent as Wei slammed the butt of his spear down between the Inheritor’s moving lips. A ringing impact sounded, like metal striking metal, and Wei felt Seever bite his weapon out of spite. Wei looked down at the face of his enemy and sneered. His instincts told him that it would be wise to capture Seever—to keep him for intelligence, knowledge, or ransom. But some part of him knew that was a mistake.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Wei’s Enlightenment trembled and Advanced as he remembered how easy it was for Seever and the False Hydra to slip through each other, using their connection as a gateway. What Wei risked in keeping the Inheritor alive was his own death or capture. And if he was being honest, killing Harlon Seever was an infinitely sweeter prospect than allowing him another breath.

“You play your games,” Wei breathed. The demons drew close, less than five hundred meters away. He could hear Rafael and Roggi zooming behind him on a floating disc made from signs and symbols. “You spent our lives, burn our worlds, murder those we love and think yourself the masters of all that is. You believe yourself to be special. The ones to inherit what the ancients have created?” Wei spat. “You are nothing but a fool. A bastard who has ruined the wrong world, touched the wrong fate. It is your infinite misfortune that we have crossed paths, and if there is anything you love, anything you treasure, I will come for it. I will take it as mine. Let die the dream of recapturing your homeworld – Earth will be mine! For a world taken from me must be mete with just recompense.”

The words just spilled out from Wei like an angry flood, and Seever’s eyes widened in a flash of horror. He moaned and squeezed, but Wei just pressed his spear down harder, sliding against teeth, slipping down his throat. And with his great foe pinned in place, the young master lifted his boot as a scythe materialized behind him one final time.

And then stomped down.

Harlon Seever’s head came apart in flesh and spirit as the last bit of the man was converted to Source. More advancements spilled through Wei’s vision, and his System chanted Core Ascension Available on repeat. But rather than seeing his attention drawn inward, he regarded Agnesia, holding her mother in her hands, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Agnesia,” Wei said, his growl breaking down to a groan. “Put her in your Inventory—”

But they were talking. And Agnesia was sobbing. “I… I’m so sorry—”

“It is well, my dear girl. It is well… Do as he says. It is… all that you can do… Preserve…”

“Okay… okay.” Folds of space collapsed around Ellena and she vanished into Agnesia’s Inventory, turning she faced Wei with a distant look in her eyes and shaking hands. “I…”

He rushed to her, mentally mauled himself. There they were, barely more than children, dancing on the edge of madness. But they endured. They survived. But they still needed to escape this Hearted Realm if any of this was to mean anything.

Wei took Agnesia by the shoulder and faced her for a moment. He met her gaze to gaze and gave her a nod. “I… I am going to need—”

Her lips curled, and she collapsed against him, letting out a sob. She clutched him even as the demons drew near, as the bodies of the leviathans opened up like massive, continent-sized flower petals, exposing serried teeth akin to mountain ranges, and latching tongues that swept across the land below. She didn’t care. She just held him for a moment.

And he understood.

“It’s okay,” Wei said, unsure if his words were truth or lie. “We are alive. She is still… We must leave. Unequip—”

“I did,” she said, drawing in a ragged breath. “You can take it down.”

He reached in the Class using his Ambition and disconnected the Skill from her. He then swapped it with his own Inventory, before placing a shaking palm on her face. “You were brave. A warrior. She is proud of you. I am proud of you.”

She could only offer a nod. Wei wished he could offer her more than just words spoken in comfort, but there was no time left. Screeching horrors were approaching, and he still needed to get Rafael, Roggi, and—

Wei groaned. The Trine. Agate too. Damnation. Were they even still alive? Taking Agnesia into his Inventory, he found Rafael forming a barrier using his symbols while Roggi—badly wounded but rapidly regenerating—launched slug after slug up into the air, detonating them in bursts of caustic spray to delay the plunging wall of demons. The young master’s nearly voided his bowels when he saw just how many were coming for him; he spent too long—Needed to run! Now!

Cutting distance, he blinked next to Rafael and Roggi before drawing them into his Inventory. They reacted with surprise, and he wanted to explain what was happening, but the demons were coming. It took what little remained of Wei’s stamina to duck under a portended attack. Even with all his Relativity, the creature tore a chunk out of his newly reforged arm—his self-repairing armor not nearly close to covering the limb.

Wei let out a snarl and cut distance again. He blinked away from over a dozen bites meant to swallow him, and felt his mood sour when he saw what he was facing. “Oh. You. Of course the heavens have to piss in my mouth one final time.”

Above him in the air, flanked on all sides by thousands more of its kin, was a Demon of Gluttony that possessed six wings and far too many mouths. Teeth-like feathers jutted from its body, and he felt its burning hunger pulsing out in waves.

Skymarrow Devourer: Lv. 89

This one wasn’t going to let him leave without a final showdown. Or was it even the same demon? Wei’s Source left the last Skymarrow Devourer he fought brutally wounded—perhaps this was just shared a look. Whatever the case, it came here to hunt him specifically. Unfortunately for it, he wasn’t weakened by his Liminal Bridge anymore. Unfortunately for him, the leviathans close behind would likely snuff Wei out like he was nothing more than a flea.

Demons began carpeting down around Wei. Massive teeth-tipped tongues hammered through the soil, sending tremors through the land and filling the air with blood. The young master sought his escape—then remembered he needed to find Agate and Trine; hopefully they were still alive. But before he acted, a torrent of animated red burst through the screen of gathered demons and swallowed the Devourer as well. The undulating form of a Blood Hydra pried a path open in the air above as Wei saw Mulver Groon arrive.

A smile crept across Wei’s face. Battered in mind, body, and spirit though he was, it was hard to be miserable when someone finally rendered much needed aid.

“I’ll distract them as long as I can!” Mulver roared. Brambles burst out from his hydras and he carved at them using a dagger wreathed in a pulsating substance that pulled at Wei’s pain. “You get the fuck out of here! Get to an exit rift!” The Devourer exploded out from the neck of a Blood Hydra—only to be promptly eaten by another. “Just follow the demons over the horizon. There’s a base—a rift there! Go!”

Wei saluted the Knight of Pride as he blinked through one of the open gaps. Shooting up into the air, he saw spotted Agate and the Trine near instantly, his mind guessing using flight paths of nearby demons. A glowing shroud of protections leaked out from a cocoon covered in writhing Demons of Gluttony, and even from afar, Wei could hear the Creator’s Hymns playing loud. But the melody was coming to an end, and he needed to hurry.

He reappeared right over Hymn of Protection, sweeping through the cluttering demons with a sweeping wall of wind. The weaker beasts spattered outright, while the stronger were flung away. His Class leveled repeatedly, but he delayed those notifications as well. Staring through the resplendent shroud, he saw Agate—armor pierced and hanging from straps—and the Trine. The Faebloods’ expression came aglow with hope and the shielding promptly vanished around them.

“The others!” Agate cried as Wei got close to them. We just pulled the Oathbearer into his Inventory—there was no time. But the Trine flinched as he came close. “A dark song sounds from inside you. Fear… wrongness… Power of Sin…. Power of twisted life…”

“There’s no time—” Wei said, frustration compelling him to take another step forward. The Trine inched back. More demons were coming. He pulled them in without asking as well. Whatever discomfort or fear they had could wait.

And then he was moving again, blinking as far as he could as his scythe cut distance over and over. Struggled to piece together where Mulver was telling him to go. Something about demons on the horizon. Behind, several leviathans made landfall and Wei found himself glad he didn’t hesitate. Land stretching hundreds of kilometers were completely covered by enormous forms. What’s more, he felt the Essence drain he suffer increase tenfold in efficiency. Just being near those demons might’ve seen him drained hollow in the merest of seconds.

The way ahead wasn’t better though. Everywhere, more demons of incomprehensible power descended. He could perceive fewer and fewer levels, and the clawing hunger grew more and more oppressive for him by the instant. Wei struggled forward regardless, seeking an exit rift. And as he saw a mass of demons clustering in the distance, he finally saw where he needed to go.

A twin-toothed spire rose through a swarm of moving demons, and the remains of what looked to be a bowl-shaped building was beset by a feeding frenzy. Every few seconds, Wei saw flashes of a Skill; someone spraying a jet of fire into the air, cutting through some of the horrors; someone forming a shield for a little bit more time. Past the base did the spire loom, and between its valley-like middle, swirling spatial Essence.

A call came from Bishop them, but Wei ignored it as he cut space again… again… again…

Warning: Aspect of (Ambition) at Critical

Wei ignored his System. He cut again, drawing his Form of the Martial Harvester even when it grew painful to do so. As he plunged into the wall of demons, Wei fed his Eidolon with one last catalyst as a leviathan loomed close above, pulling on the surface of the Hearted Realm like a falling moon.

Immediately, the young master could feel his tissue peel from his bones, trickles of Essence drained from his weapon, and his Aspects weaken from the strain. His mind went blank even as he continued shooting forward, guided toward the exit by sheer momentum alone. He crashed into one demon. Their body splashed apart against him. He went tumbling. He cut twice more—first sending him off course, the next bringing him back. An Inheritor sped through the air beside him, their wings a cape of lightning, their pursuers a few hundred slavering maws attached to roaring fangs.

None of this mattered but the exit rift. Nothing but the rift. But just then, a dark tongue snapped down through the sky and smashed through the top of the spire. The construct holding the rift snapped in half. Wei watched as the spatial Essence within spilled out like water from a burst bowl.

His way out was destabilized. And he didn’t have enough to flee further. It was here or never. It was life or death.

With one final exertion of his willpower, Wei cut and rematerialized in the depths of spatial darkness just before the tongue pounded the exit rift down to its very foundations. And between the crushing impact and the unstable maelstrom of shifting space, Wei found himself lost in an expanse of nothingness.