Alex had always had a nose for danger but betrayal had a distinct scent to it. A foul and unmistakable thing to his nose. And right when he’d thought it couldn’t surprise him any longer, he’d felt its chill right there in his bones and known.
The Immortal had turned on them.
“Urgh…” Alex twisted, a groan escaping him.
The matter was farther from mind now as a razor lip of metal squelched red along his stomach. Blasts echoed in the fog around him, dull to his ringing ears, and he watched through blurry eyes as blood welled from a contorted tear in his chest piece—even his own armor turning traitor, seemingly.
He blinked away the last vestige of the explosion and by the time sight returned, he found himself almost wishing he was still blinded.
Fuck…
[Alex Smith - Level 267, Former Ranker]
Indenture: 100 years of service --or-- 100,000,000 Essence Crystals
Class: [Ironblood Reforger] - Blacksmith
Traits: [???]
Skill trees:
Warrior - Level 7
-- Status --
Fractured Bones: 27
Damaged ligaments: 5
Ailments:
[Concussed]
[Heavy Burn]
[Bleed]
HP: [27%]
With a dull ache in his skull Alex took inventory of his wounds. He lay slumped against the chamber wall, a good ten feet beneath where it had impacted him. His left arm was gone, and though he could still feel the twitch in his legs, their mangled state didn’t invoke any confidence to carry him far. Oddly enough, where the explosion had done its worst, it had also burned his armor so hot that it acted as a sort of cauterizing agent, which was the reason he was still alive. All but his sword arm and chest were indeterminable from flesh and metal now and for once, he was thankful his curse left him unable to feel the warmth of fire—even if he could still smell the cook of its meat.
He took a long, pained breath. Yeah, I’m fucked.
For some reason trying to access his inventory was only springing error messages and he didn’t see that fixing itself any time soon. Weaponless, potionless, and healerless, the only way out was death.
And even then…
His mind trailed off as the Boss’s guttural roar cut through the dense fog of the arena. It weaved left and right, purple miasma trailing its pursuit as the Immortal chased after the demonic core—After Alex’s demonic core—though, a quick glance at his state hushed the urge to just wade in there and grab it. No, what caught his eyes now were the silhouettes fighting alongside the Immortal.
They ambled with an awkward gait, their aberrant forms only illuminated by each blast of purple, and the twisted sense of familiarity they carried sent a shiver down Alex’s spine. His dangersense activated involuntarily. But a man as weak as him didn’t survive by ignoring his instincts so when he dragged himself to his feet he didn’t shamble towards the ongoing battle, but to the opposite boss chambers instead, where the explosion had sent his party leader.
He hardly had to think about what state he was in. He saw the figure lying on the ground and as he got closer, confirmed what he already knew.
Again, he was the only one left behind.
Alex grunted a painful sigh as he sat down next to the man. Jordan's legs and lower abdomen had melted into his armor just as his own had but his upper body was completely missing. Gouged from his frame, it left only entrails trailing after, and it was likely the only reason his corpse was not fighting alongside the rest of them.
Good. The man had earned his rest.
Heck, Alex had half a mind to blow himself up somehow rather than risk becoming one of those abominations—but alas he didn’t have the means. His lucky smithy hammer was the only thing left intact and it would hardly do the job.
The thought didn’t stop him from reaching for it anyway, but when no hand appeared where it should have he had to look down at his absent limb to stump his confusion. It was a strange feeling, to lose a limb. He supposed it went without saying, but it felt unnatural, as if it should still be there. His heart thundered. His blood still pumped so loudly in his ears and his trait’s dangersense continued screaming at him to survive.
Survive?
A scorched laugh rose up in his throat. Survive how? It took them three weeks to get down here, did it just expect him to stumble the journey back?
And yet, on some level, he as well couldn’t accept that this was his end. Truly, if Alex had known an Immortal Ranker would be joining them he wouldn’t have–
[HP: 22%]
He grimaced.
No, that’s not true.
“Alex,” Jordan had spoken to him three weeks ago, “I have the most important job offer of your life, but I can’t reveal the client or any information about it. So, how much do you want to die?”
Not at all, Alex had answered. Though naturally he’d taken the job anyway. The older man was one of the only ones still kicking from Alex’s Earth-days, he had read between the lines. The question wasn’t if he was suicidal, rather, what he was really asking was just how long he could stand to live in this shit-hole.
A year? A lifetime?
Even knowing the risk, Alex would’ve accepted. And Jordan would've known that.
He exhaled, finding nothing to begrudge the man for. Immortal rankers were practically unheard of natural disasters in a backwater place like this. If one randomly brings a quest and tells you to assemble a B-rank party, you oblige and hope the storm passes over quietly. For Alex at least, that coin toss had been worth the risk.
If I could’ve gotten even a sliver of that Demonic Core…
He hushed the thought. His eyes followed the shifting shapes through the fog and he found his aura spiking dangerously before he quelled that too. There was little point drawing attention to himself at this point.
Distantly, the Boss’s roars turned starkly more desperate as it fled the Immortal Death Priestess. Camilla was her name. She was the only other Earther in their party and was known as one of the strongest of the 217 Nightmares back during Integration. Exactly why she’d want a “mere” Demon Core was beyond Alex, but as feared she didn’t intend on sharing or leaving witnesses. Not ones she couldn’t resurrect at least.
More explosions came and he looked back at Jordan’s corpse, lamenting he wouldn’t have the honor of joining him.
Does she even know we’ve fought on the same battlefield?
Heck, Alex had even exchanged words with her during the war, though he doubted she remembered. She was the most self-absorbed of her ilk and Alex… he was unrecognizable from who he’d once been. That Demon Core had been his only chance at starting anew.
“And there she is toying with it.”
He sighed. Of course it would end like this.
It’d been ten years since Earth had fallen and with each one that passed… it was just too much. This world had nothing left for him. He’d had no friends anymore, only acquaintances. And of those, the one he’d known the longest had just breathed his last.
Now, it was his turn.
As Alex rested his head against the chamber wall, the admission left him feeling strangely empty for once and the emotions he was met with surprised him a little. There was none of the expected fear, nor sadness, nor even a sense of relief for his end. He watched his health slowly deplete and he felt only that familiar gnawing feeling eating him alive from the inside.
Belatedly, he realized his sword hand was still gripped white around his Wyvernblade’s hilt—just her hilt, her blade having shattered in their final attack. He lifted it to his face, his sight going blurry once again, and let his mind wander as he recalled it.
That tremor that ran along her edge, the voice that resonated in his very bones… the energy behind that attack could only have come from one place.
To think he’d finally glimpsed what he’d been chasing this entire time, only to die soon after. He laughed.
Curse my fate.
Alex closed his eyes. A sound like a coursing river rose from the depths to embrace him and it was all that occupied his mind in his final moments.
At least—until the system glitched.
[WARNING]
[Galaxy 2374 Experiencing Temporal Divergence]
[Requesting Authorization for Temporal Patching]
“Agh—what the–”
***
Alex blinked. What was I…?
The world spun around him for a second, dragging his senses under like currents in the ocean. He got the distinct feeling his trait was trying to tell him something when suddenly, the feeling stopped.
“Alex, stop dragging your feet,” Jordan called.
He froze at the man’s voice.
It was vaguely unsettling for some reason and as Alex tore his eyes from the ground he saw him standing there, six feet ahead, but where there should’ve been a man there was instead a corpse. Then, as soon as it appeared the vision was gone. He had the party stopped right before the boss gates, their runic glow casting his graying hair blue as they crept open, and he raised a quizzical brow at Alex before decisively turned back to his discussion with the mages.
Christ, I must be losing it.
But was he? His trait was practically going haywire after spending three weeks down here with the Death Priestess, but the chill it sent down his spine was undeniable. He squinted, and just as he almost thought he could see that vision again a heavy shoulder tore him from his stupor.
Chon, the barbarian, shouldered past him to join the vanguard. He muttered deadweight under his breath.
Alex had been about to say something when the half-orc’s head suddenly rolled from his neck—then just as quickly that vision was gone too. He’d rubbed his eyes and it was like it never happened.
Strange…
Whether it was a hallucination or just wishful thinking he wasn’t sure, but there was little to do by this point but get ready.
Fastening his armor’s straps, Alex traced the sigil for luck on the flat of his forge hammer. He was no enchanter and it sure hadn’t helped any of his friends but it had long since become part of his ritual. He tucked it into a strap on his belt and took his blade out for final inspection.
[Lys (Rare)]
A Wyvern Blade hammered with a desperation to surpass one’s limits
Trait: Mana Induction
With a simple perk like mana induction, some might call her a waste of precious material, but Alex knew the truth. The Wyvern blade had been the only source of pride in his class since the war ended and while at first glance she was just an ordinary arming sword—her form indistinct by design—there was a glint beyond her steel that spoke to him. Under his breath he murmured his thanks for her protection before once again resheathing her.
‘Deadweight’ huh…
He scanned the rest of the party. Aside from Jordan and the barbarian Chon, there was also a young Healer who was native to this layer, and the elf, Lyphie, who was a wind mage and their main source of damage. As one of very few C rankers demanding B rank rates in the layers they all outleveled Alex by a hundred, but he knew his worth.
He was the only battle-capable Blacksmith in Dykriest and he was only ever hired for one of two types of delves: tightly budgeted ones, or those too low profile to risk outsourcing for proper enchantments. His main task had just ended when he’d finished maintenance on the party’s gear moments prior but he still had his role to play.
Protect the backline. Call out threats. Ignore that looming Immortal shadow behind us. If he could just do that, odds were he could just treat these last ten years as a bad dream and move on.
Somehow it seemed unlikely.
“Enough with the strategizing,” a cold voice echoed, “What could a B rank party do that I can’t? Just stay out of my way and let me deal with it.”
The voice seemed to be coming from everywhere all at once and the temperature in the room plummeted. Looks of stricken fear crossed the party’s faces and Alex was rather starkly reminded that not everyone had the pleasure of knowing when they were being watched. He caught a shallow grimace flash across his party leader’s face as the man shot him a subtle glance.
Ah, right. The other reason I was hired.
Private message from Jordan: [Have there been any changes?]
The notification flickered in Alex’s interface, though he didn’t let slip any reaction. They didn’t speak openly about his dangersense trait—and frankly, calling it that was somewhat inaccurate as he’d never managed to get it identified—but the hope had been that spending three weeks down here with the Immortal, he’d be able to parse some of her intentions.
It had been a futile effort. The Death Priestess cared so little to hide her foul aura that after spending the delve with a constant prick on his neck, all he could ascertain was that she was incredibly dangerous and that entering the boss chambers with her would be a terrible idea.
Jordan wasn’t nearly as subtle when he read his reply. “Al-alright,” he eventually said, “Everyone geared and ready? Let’s get this show on the road then.”
The healer finished casting his protections and Alex took a protective stance of him and the mage as Jordan led them into the boss chamber.
The doors slammed shut behind them. Everything unraveled.
Unraveled?
Alex stopped cold, his hairs on end. The Boss chambers were vast and almost circular with a fog that thickened on the perimeter. Blue flames flickered on the opposite end behind what appeared to be a massive throne from the shape of it and the air turned stale on his tongue. Unraveled… his trait had acted up before but never like this, what does that even–
He glanced back, the healer wasn’t moving forward with the group.
“What’s wrong?” he snapped.
The young man stammered, “Not-nothing, just had a sudden chill is all.”
His face was pale and though his mouth spoke, his eyes were far distant.
“Relax,” Alex began, “It means noth—”
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He saw it before it happened, like a glimmer of the future overlayed a mere second before reality. The Healer’s chest caved in. He dropped dead.
Shi–
The mage whirled back in confusion. Alex instantly moved to cover her as an ax broke through the mist. He only barely deflected it, skewing it off path by a few inches.
“Healer down!” Jordan shouted, “Triangle formation!”
The Death Priestess ignored the order and rushed in, something Alex could only tell from the whiff of dread passing by.
What–
“Dammit!” the Half-Orc cursed, “How the fuck did it pick up our location so fast! I thought the anti-scri–”
He cut off with a grunt and clang of metal. ‘How’ was irrelevant. They were already down a healer, and now this field of fog was working against them. Now was not the time for distractions.
It wasn’t, but a familiar feeling gnawed at his gut nonetheless.
His eyes swiveled. He pivoted his stance as an ax broke through from an entirely separate direction.
Multiple enemies? No– he only felt one gaze on him, as heavy and suffocating as it was.
His hands throbbed from the impact, instinct told him not to stop. Without thought Alex coursed mana through his steel and leapt, swinging down against yet another hatchet.
[Fallen River]
It shattered helplessly against his blade and he seized the initiative with an upward swing in the same motion– reverse current. It wasn’t a skill, just expert mana manipulation but it had saved his life enough times all the same—and today, that meant intercepting the next ax early and buying himself precious time.
“Jordan–”
“Already on it!” he growled.
He signaled to Chon and the two of them rushed forwards to the center of the arena, where most of the attacks had come from. Normally, bundling up would be the correct call here, but with the heavy fog and unpredictable attack patterns they were left dead in the water with their heavy-set armor and weapons. Without Alex’s senses they were better spent putting pressure on the boss and leaving defense to him.
Speaking of…
“Lyphie,” he demanded, “Snap out of it! Protection field! Now!”
The pale-skinned woman hadn’t taken a single move the entire time and as she finally tore her sunken eyes away from the Healer’s corpse and surveyed her surroundings it was as if she’d only just processed that a fight had broken out. Her expression finally gained some semblance of awareness and, to her credit, when she raised her staff her incantation was pitch-perfect regardless.
An invisible wall of wind shimmered in a sphere around the two of them. Alex shot aura from his blade in a sweeping slash and when he turned to guard against the next projectile he saw it suddenly lose momentum in that wall and drop to the ground. Loud clashes and dull explosions drifted languidly through the currents and as Alex was reminded that the Boss—whatever monstrosity it was—had an Immortal to contend with, he let his guard relax.
Only slightly.
He looked down at his shaking hands in bewilderment. Despite the shock absorption of his tang, he’d been forced to take up a two-handed grip during the altercation. It wasn’t that the blows were particularly strong—though they of course were regardless—but astoundingly, they all felt meticulously placed too. Each had come at the most awkward angle and timing for Alex, and it felt as if his moves were being read ten steps ahead somehow. If it weren’t for his trait…
Alex looked at the mage. He himself could hardly see the silhouettes through this much fog when he tried to get a look at the boss, but judging by her widened eyes, Lyphie had clearly seen a lot more through spiritual sight. A troubled expression crossed her face.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Oh—uh… nothing… I think.”
She didn’t elaborate and simply clutched her staff, facing back towards the healer’s corpse. Alex hadn’t missed the glances they’d shared the entire delve, the way their touches lingered longer the deeper they went. Perhaps he would have warned them off if he were nicer, but she was of elven blood. This would hardly be the first loss in her life.
“Do you regret coming?”
Alex chewed his lip, he wasn’t the talkative sort these days but he needed her focused somehow.
“...no,” she said, “The layers are no home for an elf.”
He nodded sagely. Thankfully, that did the trick as he found he had no other words to offer. She raised her staff and what little wind spirits the caverns held flocked to her en-mass. She chanted a longer incantation this time, her silvery hair lifting in thin strands as mana buzzed around her. The look in her eyes told him this would be a finishing blow.
Alex took guard again. He was close. So close.
Just one shard of that Demon Core would carry enough essence for his indenture, and once he was out of this shithole he could finally swap out this trap of a class. He’d done all he could, now he just had to wait. Wait and hope.
Mana gushed. The chirping of latent spirits fluttered around them. A whirlwind rose in power, a force strong enough to crush a boulder all condensed into a finite point at the end of Lyphie’s staff. And yet, as the spell unleashed a nagging feeling pulled Alex’s attention elsewhere. Horror crept into his heart as he tried to count the ax’s he’d swung down.
There was no need, one look at the Healer’s corpse and he could tell he bore no wound.
And when Lyphie collapsed to the ground there was no blemish on her corpse either. Just the fading vision of her head twisting from her neck. Just the sense something had been unraveled.
***
“What the FUCK are you doing?!”
Alex stood in stupor, the Half-Orc’s words washing over him. He stared blankly at Lyphie's lifeless, woundless corpse.
It didn’t make any sense. None of it made any sense. No attacks he could sense, nothing! His Dangersense was screaming alright, but nothing that he could understand for fucks sake–
That changed rather suddenly as he dived for the ground, an ax flying overhead. He looked up to find that the elf’s wind barrier had gone with her.
“Dammit!”
Alex’s jaw tightened. He’d had one fucking job and he’d failed it. He knew no one could blame these circumstances on a C rank, but that didn’t matter to him. Jordan had trusted him to protect them. And deep down, he could feel it. If his promise hadn’t been stolen from him, even something like this wouldn’t have deterred him.
That familiar feeling gnawed at his gut, bubbling outwards as he pushed himself up. He bit his lip, drawing blood. The pain filtered his emotions out in a stream of dark red impurity, leaving his mind to sharpen.
No more what ifs.
His instinct screamed at him to stop, but Alex wouldn’t cower alone here like some weakling while others fought for him. He channeled a surge of mana into his blade and leapt out of the fog with raw vigor.
He didn’t know what he had expected—an immediate struggle of life and death, perhaps—but as his vision cleared he immediately halted.
[Inspect]
[Time Warden - level 330 Demon Realm Boss]
Jordan had informed them it would be below level 400, unusually low for a Demon Realm monster, but Alex had never seen anything like it. It looked almost like an albino minotaur with a head resembling a satanic goat. Its horns were twisted in elaborate curves, its fur was iridescent silver like it was made of liquid metal, and its eyes were blank, holding an empty gaze that regarded everything equally.
And weirdest of all—it was somehow still alive. That terrified him more than anything else.
He chuckled dreadfully as it all came together. It wasn’t the boss’s level-defying strength, nor even the way it seemed to dodge everything like it had precognition that terrified Alex. He was simply terrified that the Death Priestess hadn’t bothered to kill it.
Jordan and Chon were still fighting for their lives and he couldn’t blame them. They’d probably never seen what an Immortal could do in person.
Alex remembered it still.
A burn-scarred man sitting atop an army of corpses. He’d had the red eyes of a demon and the beating heart of a World’s Keeper in his left hand. He’d crushed it, sending a pulse of energy across the bloody horizons.
Ten years ago he’d have seen so clearly what he only now realized. The way Camilla danced unseen to their eyes, as if with the grace of an assassin and the ferocity of a—yeah, what a farce. If she’d wanted the Boss dead she would’ve simply strolled up there and flicked it. That was what an Immortal ranker was capable of.
Eventually, she must’ve grown bored as she did just that.
Camilla, the Priestess of Death materialized, and everyone fell to their knees. She wore leathery black opera gloves that went to her biceps and a purple dress made of Hydra skin that squirmed around her curves as if it were alive. The hems of her dress were nine long shreds that seemed to writhe away in fear, snapping near Chon’s face as she walked by.
Then another figure walked out of the fog to Alex’s right. Lyphie, lifeless and pale. She raised her staff and a jet of steam blew the Monster’s head off.
Only… it grew back immediately.
In that very moment, the monster’s core burst into crimson light as the world unraveled. But just before it did, Alex saw it. Both the notification right in front of the core…and the Half Orc’s headless corpse as it collapsed next to him.
[Fate Reversal]
***
Alex emerged from the fog expecting an immediate struggle of life and death, instead he was met with Chon’s corpse. Just like the others, the Half-Orc bore no wounds. It was as if he’d simply decided he was done and keeled over.
And then immediately after that, he got back up. Death aura surrounded him, animating him, and the undead bastard flew right back into combat. As an undead.
Alex’s complexion dimmed as he made the realization. She’d been holding out on us.
He chuckled pitifully. Of course she was. How had he forgotten, this was what an Immortal was capable of. They were all ants to her, she didn’t even need them for fodder. So was that how it was? Dead men tell no tales when they march for your armies, he supposed.
No, It made no sense. None of it did. Why even hire them when she could just do it herself? Unless… she couldn’t?
Alex bit his lip. He was clearly missing some integral piece information. But he was also about 500 levels short of being able to do anything about it either. All the Nightmare’s were like this, the crazy bastards, it was impossible to predict their thoughts. But he’d known it was a coin flip going in, hadn’t he. Though it’d clearly landed on the side of lady death.
Yet still that instinct of his screamed for him to survive. To do anything to prolong his pitiful life a little longer. He hated himself for it, but even now his body listened. He’d just been about to duck back into the fog when something pulled his attention.
No…
“Camilla! What’s the meaning of this!” Jordan shouted. “Half the party is dead now, and I ain’t stupid enough to think it ain’t on purpose!”
The Death Priestess’s dark haze faded away and she materialized, leaving their undead party members to play with the boss. She strolled towards the man.
They were fucked. Alex knew in his bones that he needed to run. The boss alone was too much for them now, and an Immortal on top of that? He turned on his heels. No, I have to survive this!
“I never should’ve trusted you.”
Alex halted at that.
Jordan’s tone was laced with poison and for a brief second he wondered whether the remark had been directed towards him—but no. Jordan had seen what happened, he knew just as well now of the threat approaching him. But Jordan was a man of honor. A practitioner of codes that rarely survived the necessities of war. Immortal or not, he wouldn’t flee and leave alive the woman who killed his team. He had his eyes closed in prayer, and when they snapped open his blade flared with the inferno of a constellation.
“You speak a lot for a dead man,” Camilla said, death energy gathering towards her weapon as well. Her skill activated. A chill ran up his bone and Alex knew it instinctively. That… was a death sentence.
And yet… his eyes met Jordan in that instant.
It was strange how he immediately knew that the man did not have any resentment towards Alex for wanting to run. That even as resolve flashed in the paladin’s eyes, mixing with grief and fury for the death of his party, there was also the kindness that whispered into his soul. He could almost hear the man’s words.
Run out of here you damned fool. Run and live!
The Death Priestess swung. Jordan’s ability shivered, the two ready to collide in a strike of magic that would surely kill the man. Alex didn’t realize when he broke into a run.
But he wasn’t running away. Instead he was condensing his entire mana pool into his blade. It was strange. He’d thought his conscience had died ages ago. But somehow, Alex’s body moved on its own at that moment. It did the exact opposite of what he wanted. His legs pivoted.
Lys sang at a shrill pitch, flickers of pure condensed power leaked out like lightning. Then with his strongest skill, he swung towards Camilla, and the two abilities collided.
[Energy Pierce]
For a second, Alex forgot everything but the beauty of it.
Sparks of white energy shot from the collision point. Lys screeched with the fury white lightning. Her cracks deepened and she fell apart as it swallowed her. It became all that she was. She’d been born for this moment—all those hours of passion spent in the forge—all for this, it was her final breath.
He felt an inexplicable pull as she shone with life. Those gates he’d stared mournfully at all his life opened just a crack, beckoning.
Then Jordan’s ability exploded and the world became fire.
[WARNING]
[Galaxy 2374 Experiencing Temporal Divergence]
[Requesting Authorization for Temporal Patching]
…
[Authorization Granted]
[Completion: 1%]
[2%]
***
Reality flickered, glitched. In the span of a second, the world seemed to have folded in on itself a thousand times, his head pounded with contradicting memories and versions of himself. He screamed in agony, trying to remember which him he was!
Finally, the world returned to normal.
“Agh—what the–”
Alex stilled as his memories shifted. The Minotaur’s core—Alex could’ve sworn it was a brilliant shining crimson. But… it had changed. Now it was a dull gray, the last of its light flickering out. It was weakening.
A terrible idea occurred to him. An idea so terrible even on the brink of death he hesitated. Then he grabbed the only thing that had survived the explosion—his lucky smithy hammer—and waded back through the fog towards the fighting.
The cost would be terrible, but with his sword’s death he’d already lost everything he was proud of. Besides, he’d never had much reason for the things he did, he was just stubborn. He didn’t want to die.
He paused. That was a lie. He didn’t care if he died, not anymore. He just wanted to deny Camilla her prize. To give her a last fuck you before he took his final breath.
Alex grinned through the blood as he pictured her expression.
[Health: 17%]
He bit back the urge to vomit precious blood and fought to stay conscious as he teetered forward. Silhouettes danced in the fog and a stray blast of miasma whizzed past his face. He couldn’t be bothered to dodge, all his mental focus was on getting this right.
His Blacksmith class had a skill called [Meld], which was used to meld pockets of highly dense vital mana into metal. Like Cores, though he’d never even laid eyes on a Demon Core before. He wouldn’t be able to even touch it at his rank… unless it was severely weakened somehow. It was different from his normal use of the skill, where every part of the process was perfectly measured. This was just pure destruction.
Of the same core that once held my future.
He staggered past the raised corpse of the Healer who looked at him confusedly as he passed. Alex could see the Minotaur’s silhouette more clearly now. It was exhausted, any previous glimpse of precognition having left as it stumbled lethargically from its sadistic pursuer. Camilla licked her blade.
“Hmm, Alex? You survived?” she asked, as if surprised.
Alex realized a moment later why she hadn’t come to end him. The thought that he would survive hadn’t even occurred to her. He was too far beneath her to even be considered a threat, and so she had promptly returned to her minotaur.
Alex grit his teeth, and moved forward, ambling towards the Minotaur. Alex was still an ant to her. But that was the thing right? When forced to the brink, even ants could bite. And Alex had long since crossed the edge.
His stumbling was ignored by Camilla, a few stray attacks from her puppets aimed in his direction. He wanted to spit, to be mocked even now, but he simply kept moving forward. Weaponless, his presence barely registered on her radar. And the Minotaur… it’d already lost its will to live.
He stumbled close to the monster, looking into its eyes. No… this was not a monster. Merely a creature protecting what it was meant to protect. The real monster hung behind him, puppeting the corpses of those she had killed.
Camilla laughed as he raised his hammer
“How pitiful… are you still trying to–”
Then he slugged the thing with [Meld].
Crack—
***
The world spun around, and as Alex found his bearings it took him a moment to realize what was happening.
Ah, that’s right… I’m dying.
He touched his fingers to his stomach, blood seeping through his fingers. Then he noticed his arm. Strips of Core threaded it now in no particular shape or pattern. The crimson was completely lifeless now. He hadn’t expected much better.
It’d been a crackhead theory, spurred by the thought that his armor had melted so hot his arm might as well have been metal now. He knew a full integration would be impossible with this method, but if he could just activate whatever had saved the Minotaur…
Well, doesn't matter now.
It had actually almost worked, initially, but before he could complete the process Camilla had screamed and blasted him to the wall. He’d missed his window. The Core’s aura had dissipated. And now he was dying.
His vision blurred, and it wasn’t just from his declining health bar. He looked up to find the Death Priestess sitting with her head tucked into her knees in front of him. She… was also crying.
“Oh, shut up,” she said, “I can hear what you’re thinking.”
Alex tried to reply, to curse at her, but his mouth refused to move, his eyelids already falling.
“That core you ruined was my only chance… I have nothing left now! Do you even know what that was? It wasn’t a stupid demon core, it was a Divine core. I mean, it was wrong to get you all killed for it I guess, but… ah! Who cares! If not for this then you all would’ve died to something else anyway! But no, you just had to ruin it!”
She fumed, stamping her heels in anger as she described the exact ways she was going to torture him after his death. It disturbed him to see her expression, twisted and distorted in fury and a sick sadistic pleasure but his ears rang too much for him to hear the rest of it.
His mind was far from here now.
He thought suddenly that this must’ve been what Aashay must’ve felt, as he bled out in his arms during the defense of Drusik’s Gates. Or Laura, though her death had been swifter, more outrageous, unforgivable. So many deaths, so many years. He hadn’t even been there to see his sister’s death.
Nor the death of his first real party. They’d stayed behind, protecting their weakest member as he ran for the return stone.
[2% HP]
Alex felt that familiar feeling gnaw up from his depths. He recognized it for what it was; Regret. But it felt as dull and old as any other pain now.
His Blacksmith class could’ve been so much more. He could’ve been so much more. And yet the potential had been robbed from him. He’d had a vision for it once, combining it with his Warrior skill-tree… but there’d been a million pitfalls and he’d fallen into every one.
He’d always dreamed of changing his path after that, and yet, when Lys had sung her last… it was all that captivated his mind now.
He coughed, spitting blood.
[1% HP]
The world was already fuzzy, but now it was flashing a bright, almost blinding light as well. He tried to find comfort in the grip of his smithy hammer but he had dropped it when Camilla attacked.
Vaguely, he saw Camilla standing over his body, her death magic seeping into him. He could no longer hear her words. And he knew what fate awaited him.
Yet, as the image of the woman crying came to his mind, Alex couldn’t help the bloody smile creeping onto his face, as the Death Priestess took his soul.
Skill [Meld] successful!
Divine Core has partially integrated with Alex Smith.
[Fate Reversal] activated.
Error. Alex Smith has been targeted with [Fate Reversal].
Ability cannot comply.
[CRITICAL ERROR. ASPECT OF FATE IS DESTABILIZING]
[PATCHING… FAILED]
[FATAL SYSTEM ERROR]
[INITIATING SYSTEM RESET]