Take care not to get infested when fighting the Dying Queen’s horrors. Their main threat isn’t in their Aspects, but how they can fuse with your spirit, can siphon from your very being to further mutate themselves while also twisting you into an abomination.
If you’re a Trespasser, the effects are less terminal, but no less miserable. Getting rid of your Class or whatever else you have bound to that empty spot we call a “spirit” will help us shed the effects, but you’ll still need to contend with the blood-wrought horror that is now rapidly transforming thanks to all the free Concepts and Essence you fed to it.
This is why the Crossroads has a very simple recommendation when dealing with realms overrun by the Embraced: Glass them from orbit or beyond a dimensional threshold. Spares you the chance of catching something you can’t afford.
But if you have to fight them… well, Concept of Fire or Destruction helps. Rumors are that the Queen has a hard time digesting those. And Death, but almost no one has that Concept aside from the Scions of the Withered Moon, and before some of you new guys think about recruiting one of them, understand that the juice there is really not worth the squeeze.
They’re “conditionally invincible.” Meaning that they might not stay dead, but someone else has to foot the bill. And that someone else might just be the newest friend they made — namely: you…
-The Trespassers’ Compendium
II-46
A Theft of Death (II)
Skills, arrows, pastries, and ciphers flew upward at the emerging monstrosity in a hail of attacks. Wei didn’t even need to order his disciples—the sight of the nightmarish creature was enough to spur them to action. Despite their promptness, their blows inflicted little damage, splashing uselessly against an aura of shimmering mist set to the color of glowing crimson.
Both Wei and the Bastard shot into action, the latter faster than the former by a factor of two. Wei sensed power flowing through the Bastard, oscillating between blade and man. There was a perfect synergy between him and his weapon, something that increased his efficiency to an enviable level.
Both young master and scion launched their attacks, using the disciples’ initial barrage as a smokescreen. Slashes of cold silver and needles of disintegrating flame lashed up to hew and part the creature before it could fully emerge.
But fast though the Bastard was, and lethal though Wei’s Deconstruction could be, the Souldrinker was a beast of another magnitude.
As lesser Skills, ciphers, and missiles shattered against its blood-made veil, it designated Wei and the Bastard threats, and took a more evasive approach.
Said evasive approach involved it teleporting all ten meters of its body an arm’s length above the Bastard. Wei’s dilation echo was barely fast enough to warn him of what was coming. The young master swept a slashing beam to behead the beast. The Bastard sensed the blow as well—thought Wei was trying to kill him. The man let out a furious growl, blade flashing brilliantly as his deathly frost extinguished Wei’s celestial flames. It would have been a martial feat in any other circumstance.
Right now, it was to his detriment.
“Behind you—” Wei cried.
“Brother! Look—”
Neither Wei nor the blade got to the Bastard in time. The Souldrinker, exposed in its grotesque glory, brought a rotting limb composed of mangled flesh and thick viscera down upon the Bastard’s body. The limb shattered as if frozen, but still the blow was struck. A blow that sent a crushing shockwave across the makeshift battlefield the nest had become. A wave that slammed into Wei’s chest—caved the midsection of his armor in and cracked a rib.
The young master grasped and Essenceshifted.
Good thing that he did too, for if he had been a half-second later, the Bastard would have crashed through him. Instead, the Scion of the Withered Moon shot through Wei’s form of Divine Wind like a rocket. A tunnel of air formed around him. The barrier of sound broke as he zipped off toward the horizon, striking the far walls of crimson with a cataclysmic impact, burrowing through them like a bullet splashing into water.
In a second, Wei felt the Bastard’s Essence Signature grow further and further.
“Do not let that thing hit you,” the Shell sagely advised.
Truly? I have always been fascinated to learn how my intestines might taste if pushed up through my throat.
“Turn your acid on your enemy, not me, fool.”
Wei curved his form of Divine Wind and began to circle the Souldrinker. Immediately, he began fighting as he always did, creating layers, striking at his enemy to probe for weaknesses. A dozen small celestial crystals formed in the air like particulates, and Wei sent them jabbing toward the Souldrinker to test how they might respond.
As his attacks shot forth, the Souldrinker spread a set of six wings made from blood and mist. Each of them glistened, more than just limbs made from Essence and fetid ichor, but also portals to another place, to other planes. Suddenly, the young master sensed a flood of other Essences coming at him. Essences that reeked of necrosis, of decay, of withering, and of rot.
The Souldrinker splayed its wings wide, a misshapen mosquito made from stitched human bodies, and from each of its wings came waves of corrosive flame, of infectious blood, of decaying wind, of crushing despair, of absolute darkness.
Wei’s initial attack glistened before such an onslaught, eating a few meters through the onrush of counter-energies before they were spent. In the time it took for the young master to prepare one attack, the Souldrinker was already unleashing six in return.
“Shift back; fight a retreat and make some room before making your approach. It has boundless Essence compared to you. It will still be hale long before you are spent.”
The young master twisted as a gale of fleeing wind. He formed larger shards now, launching them at his enemy as disposable missiles. They detonated in pools of holy water and lashing lightning, their celestial Essence creating a protective screen for him. But as Wei tried to create room, he watched as the Souldrinker’s veil of blood spread out once more. An oppressive pinch of pain jolted through his Eidolon.
RESISTING SOULDRINK WITH ASPECT OF (CONSTITUTION)>FAILED
AFFLICTED WITH SOULDRINK
Wei immediately felt his Essence plummet. An aura of blood swept around him, clung to him like maggots eating at an infected wound.
Scorn: [11,155/79,200]>Scorn: [9,412/79,200]
A wave of enervation spread over Wei. His Eidolon dimmed so fast that his Essenceshift began to flicker. From celestial white emerged motes of ash, until they too grew fainter, flagging into nonexistence. A few seconds more of this, and there would be nothing left of his Class to spend.
But despite that, Wei realized another thing about his enemy: the creature was smart enough not to drink from his System. That either meant it understood what it could and couldn’t consume, or had an intuitive sense of these things. Both indicated a higher than bestial intellect. And because it wasn’t siphoning directly from his System or hurting him directly, he couldn’t adapt to its nature with his Aspect of Fortification.
“It fears your System,” the Shell declared. “Bring forth your scythe. Use it.” The words were spoken by the Antediluvian Skill most reluctantly, and Wei knew how it felt. Drawing on his fullest power now was an admission of something—that his Class wouldn’t be enough to overcome this threat alone.
After his triumphs against the Celestial Vanguard, the Graviton Brawler, Silt of Storms, and Many-wed, he had hoped his mastery of the martial ways and his tactics would carry him forward for a good while. Alas, what he faced as a foe that would a lesser enemy drained from aura alone. The best way to face such an adversary was to have a means of instant positioning: teleportation.
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Moving fast was no longer sufficient against foes bearing superior Aspects and sporting irresistible auras. He needed to add another Skill to his Class’s capabilities.
But that was for the future, when his sect wasn’t at risk of being butchered by a superior enemy.
Spending the rest of his Scorn to create a Lance of Annihilation, Wei launched the destructive Skill at his adversary—but also hid himself inside of it. A slightly risky play considering the cataclysmic destruction that was set to follow. Yet, the Souldrinker’s aura immediately set about weakening its effects, drawing away its potency and fueling its blood.
Worse yet, the Souldrinker’s wings flashed again, and from within their surfaces came a legion swarm of smaller humanoid mosquitos.
Lifedrainer: That Which Feeds From Flesh Lv. 50
They erupted into existence by the hundreds each second, and all at once they began to dive down. Down toward Wei’s sect—to where the reinforced hallway was.
No!
“Do not split your focus!” the Shell roared. “Resolve the main threat first.”
The exterior of the lance thinned. Wei materialized his scythe and locked his Omniscience on the Souldrinker. The massive horror twitched as the spatial channels formed by its wings continued to hold. Just how much Essence did this thing possess?
Messages filtered into Wei’s perception. The weaker among his sect were calling for him, begging for his return — practically praying for it. At the same time, Rafael, Agnesia, and Agate called him at once. The young master gritted his teeth. If he turned to help them, no one would pin the Souldrinker in place—and if it followed him down, there was nothing he could do to stop it from conducting a massacre.
It was faster than him by far. Stronger too. He couldn’t fight a careful offensive while also watching over his weakest disciples.
Shamed as he was to admit it, his mastery was still far from such a summit.
“They will hold,” the Shell declared. “They must. These are weak adversaries. Agnesia will ward them off with her flames. Rafael will stall them with his workings. Resolve the Souldrinker, and cull the rest thereafter. If you do not, the swarms will simply continue coming.”
“Soon!” Wei replied to them. That was all he said. Every ounce of his focus narrowed on the Souldrinker.
Within the fading celestial cauldron that was his lance, a scythe of pulsating ivory and ebony lit outlined Wei’s form.
Scorn: [141/79,200]>Scorn: [21/79,200]
The last of his Class’s power faded down to near nothing. But just then, Wei the 30 free Aspect points all into Speed. A jolt of lightning flashed through his nerves and muscles. Time to see this done.
The lance dissolved. And Wei timed his cut perfectly, shattering distance exactly as it did. He blinked through a tide of clawing limbs and lashing bodies, past jutting pikes of bone shaped to resemble a proboscis, and materialized right behind his enemy.
The Souldrinker moved, its wings pulsing like a hurricane, his body an avalanche of violence. Even with Wei’s advantage of surprise, it should have turned around at splattered him with a casual backhand.
Should have, but there was just one thing wrong with this match-up.
He had an Antediluvian Skill.
A contrasting set of wings exploded out from Wei’s back, and the young master unleashed his Proximal Aegis for the first time. The manifestation of his Shell burned Source at a nightmarish rate, but its effectiveness couldn’t be denied.
>Proximal Aegis (Epic) - Allows the Shell to consume Source and flare their Proximal Aegis across the distance of their (Omniscience). Limits the maximum speed within their Aegis to the user’s maximum speed.
A second aura superimposed itself over the Souldrinker’s veil of blood. An aura of brightest white edged with hissing darkness. Wei felt a painful weight tug at his very spirit as the Souldrinker went from being over six times faster than him to exactly the same speed. It’s backhand came. He shifted down, slipping under a horrid arm composed of branching human limbs and jutting fingers, and slashed upward.
His Harvester bit clean through three of the Souldrinker’s wings, and the monster recoiled from the hit—tried to turn away. Wei felt the beast’s aura of blood collapse back in on it as spatial energies began to twist and coil around them—and so he cut twice more, striking the Souldrinker’s Speed over and over, each blow sending a reverberation up his arms.
Source: [498/600]
There, high in the air, Souldrinker and Wei performed a deadly ballet, both gliding on the edge of destruction. With each hit, the young master broke his adversary more, made them less. And with a single blow, a gush of Essence, the young master would be unmade entirely, rendered little more than a smear of monochrome where he once was.
A blast of raging fire erupted below to the accompaniment of Agnesia’s roar. The young master had no attention to spare. Everything was on the Souldrinker. Everything.
It swung all six of its limbs. He twisted and writhed between them. Blinking from point to point to avoid Essence bursts. He landed a glancing blow along its torso. Then it finally teleported. A receding wave of blood tore Wei off course, sending him tumbling. The Souldrinker rematerialized right in his path with its wings close to its body — burning wings that rippled with growing brightness.
“Evade!” the Shell cried. “It is going to channel a blast.”
The young master did evade. But rather than using his scythe to break distance and create distance, he materialized another part of his Shell. A blast of crimson exploded out from the Souldrinker. A blast that Wei dodged into—and through.
Ambushing Spearstriders (Rare) - Grants the Shell to perform [Echo Dashes] based on their (Relativity). Allows the Shell to [Echo Dash] through enemy attacks with perfect timing.
Wei turned into an entity of light and shadow as he passed through the oncoming attack and rematerialized over the back of the Souldrinker himself. The young master let out a triumphant laugh as he brought his scythe down once more, seeking to bring the fight past the point of no return.
Then, a lancing pain pierced through his chest.
Wei felt one of his lungs collapse, felt his veins boil and wither from within, felt his flesh twist and bones shatter from the inside.
Through, from the Souldrinker’s spine emerged a hair-thin thread of blood. A hair-thin thread of blood that pierced through Wei’s armor and bit into his flesh. His Sourceforged body ensured he wouldn’t be destroyed so easily, but even so, the Souldrinker’s power was immense. An ocean of deleterious Essence came pouring out from the Souldrinker—and Wei’s Source practically vanished.
When dancing the edge, one must care not to slip.
Source: [14/600]
The young master’s manifested wings and legs vanished. He cut through the tendril with a weak swing, but as he brought an arm up to break distance, to escape—the Souldrinker wrapped a massive hand around his entire head.
And squeezed.
Wei’s ears popped. His skull folded in ways it truly shouldn’t. And all coherence left him.
If the creature had been allowed to squeeze him for a half-second more, his head would have been less than paste.
But just then, a feeling of bone-piercing coldness washed over Wei. And he felt himself pulled back from the brink.
“LIVE!” A voice screamed inside his mind. Vitality poured into him. So much vitality he felt his Source come ablaze with life, bursting out from him, blasting through the limb that held him. The world before him cleared just in time for him to see the Souldrinker wrap its wings around its body, just in time for Death’s Bastard to bring down a massive blade of lunar frost against its wretched shell.
A second shockwave exploded across the battlefield. A blast of deathly cold crawled past Wei, avoided touching him, but stole the life from hundreds of lesser Lifedrinkers as they turned to aid their progenitor.
Now it was the Souldrinker’s turn to crash into the far side of the blood-wall—and keep going.
Gravity took Wei. He felt himself drop, head spinning even as pieces of his skull snapped back into place. But a strong hand caught him before he could plummet more than a meter. A strong hand that radiated cold, that was layered in armored frost, that extended along a limb of palest white, to an armor the color of a lifeless moon. Wei found his vision spinning as he was placed on a hovering platform of frost. Frost that originated from the Bastard.
The man’s avatar had manifested again. Whatever this Skill was. His helmet was that of a hollowed eyed hound, and within his hands did his greatsword glow with in contrast to his coldness with greenish warmth and soothing light.
“Oh,” Wei wheezed, a throbbing ache making it hard to think. “You’re finally back from your nap. How was it?”
A shudder shook the Bastard. “You little fuck. Should’ve just let it crush your head.”
Wei waved him off. “It got lucky. I would have had it. You’re the one who… who let it hit you. Like a blind… idiot.”
A distant rumble sounded from the distant surface where the Bastard sent the Souldrinker flying. From below, a wave of flicking fire swept through the remaining Lifedrinkers.
“Who kills the most wins?” Wei asked, still groggy.
An exasperated scoff came from the sword. “Wei, please, you're hardly in a condition to–”
“You're fucking on, kid. Loser needs to refer to themselves as ‘this bitch’ for a month.”
“Brother!”
“You must truly like degrading yourself,” Wei said, chuckling.
“Wei! I—By the Sea of Life, I’m surrounded by madmen.”