“Get up, Eric! We got problems! That asshole Song isn’t bothering to hold back at all. Clearly, he doesn’t give a shit about sanctions or violations!”
Eric groaned, pulling his aching mind out of the mist Bunbun and Grim had used to project their will and give those silly kids and mercenaries in way over their head a way out. A way that had been cut off so abruptly by a suppression that had actually overwhelmed his own Essence of Dominion.
Eric felt a chill, stumbling back to his feet, rubbing his nose presently spurting blood, feeling like that bastard Song had just kicked him in the brain.
Eliot gave him a concerned look. “You okay, Eric? We gave you five minutes. All we can afford! Whatever you did… I guess it was a good thing? Ha ha.” He flashed a nervous smile. “Song just burst out of whatever layer he was hiding in. The handful of mercenaries Orlin says his scouts spotted are all waving white flags or screaming some System word for neutral party free for hire… so, yeah! Orlin’s now up a fuck ton of men who’ve already sworn oaths to him!”
Eliot smirked, giving a rueful shake of his head. “it all happened pretty fucking quick, but I guess that’s the advantage of Bronze Cores and hyperspeak. We don’t waste time. King Orlin says you’re footing the bill, though. Good thing he took your request not to shoot them seriously, since they’re now showing as Light Blue on Orlin’s interface map! Which means they’re locked into a System Contract. I think. So I guess that means that they won’t be stabbing us in the back? And do I even want to know how you managed to pull that off?”
“Who cares!” rang Zachary’s metallic voice through his steam mecha. “Lord Song’s in serious Final Boss mode with a dozen knights kitted out in black armor, and nothing our skirmishers do can penetrate!”
Eric winced at those words, taking deep breaths, trying to pull himself together, wondering why his head ached so much.
Congratulations! You have successfully infused your soul with a Greater Ritual conjoined with Underlord Familiar and Friendly Master Necromancer!
You have gained profound insights into your arts.
Rituals of Summoning and Binding is now Rank 37!
You have learned a new spiritual art: Rituals of Projection!
Rituals of Projection is now Rank 2!
…..
Rituals of Projection is now Rank 5!
Your allies have NOT seized your soul.
Isn’t friendship wonderful? Especially between Necromancers!
You have been temporarily drained 604.375 Soul Points that will be LOST FOREVER if you FAIL to seize New York and best Lord Song in Dominon’s Arena!
Note! You have FAILED a Contest of Dominion!
Lord Song’s Willpower exceeds your own!.
Lord Song’s understanding of Dominion is greater than your own.
Lord Song has successfully dispelled your Conjoined Greater Ritual.
Absolutely absurd Mental Resistance ABSORBS Fatal Backlash!
You have suffered 1 Serious Wound.
NOTE! Injury will not heal until you have bested he who has Dominion over your wound!
Eric’s stupor froze to horrified alarm. “Fuck. Bullshit! That is not what I… fuck! What the hell is Dominion’s Arena? Is it enough if I just kill the fucker?”
He froze when he heard a gentle chuckle in his skull.
Lady Evelyn Death.
The empress herself.
“The crucible of battle is the ultimate proving grounds, Eric. And wayward Song has unfurled his wing, allowing his Silver Authority to blossom in full. He offers challenge to any and all that would dare to accept it, declaring that his Strength and Authority trumps the codicils and contracts of all others who would claim Terra, considering them beneath him and that he is thus inured of them.”
Eric’s mind rang with laughter.
For a heartbeat, he had the sense that the empress was racing through the galaxy with the stars streaking by like pretty flashing Christmas lights, at speeds even his inner phoenix found humbling.
And her destination was none other than the world of his birth.
A chilling revelation.
“What a delicious interpretation Song now embraces! Slipping past the contracts and codicils that all other settlers must adhere to.
“His challenge is, however, acceptable. Bring him down, my darling disciple. Hunt forth using all your skills, wiles, and cleverness, and bag me a deliciously wayward Silver! And if you manage to do it before the rift fated to manifest over the sight of a fallen Gold appears, I will have an additional boon to grant you and a delicious trade to offer! And surviving mortal combat is always an acceptable test of Dominion. How do you think I’ve managed to warp your genetic potential so deliciously far, as you ascend Evolution’s Path and level-up your race? Together, we embrace the ritual of mortal combat, the Essence of Dominion, and the primacy of evolution to transcend all your limitations and flaws. Almost like true cultivation!”
Eric froze at those words, both awed and humbled. His sense of power and potency reduced to that of a shivering child kneeling in the dirt before the imperious glare of a lady whose wondrous procession he had dared to interrupt, before her bemused smile redeemed him, the cold honor guard instructed not to butcher him and his village for his insolence.
Eric shuddered, pulling himself out of that spine-chilling reverie.
“Fuck, did I really have the guts to—” He shook his head, refusing even to think about it. Even sensing for that tiny moment her true unbridled power had left his inner phoenix with his head tucked between his wings, trembling in the upper branches of the world tree he had helped blossom in Ashland.
He blinked, rubbing eyes now dribbling a bit of crimson ichor. “Okay, I wasn’t expecting an actual answer but… fuck it. Sure. I’ll play.”
Eliot gave him a look. “You okay, bud? You’re looking pretty fucked up for someone who was just meditating.”
Eric chuckled at that, coughing up a surprising amount of blood. “Well, shit. I guess that did hurt me. But -5 Physical stat penalties isn’t really bothering me that much these days. As long as my thoughts are sharp and my head’s clear.”
Eliot blinked at that. “Shit, you got a -5 physical penalty? Dude, what happened? You gotta be careful!”
Eric forced a chuckle. “I know, right? So, what’s the status of… never mind. Hold on.” He cracked his neck and spat the last of the blood tickling his lungs, projecting it a bit farther than he intended, but no harm done.
When he caught Orlin’s hooded gaze though, his manner was grim.
But before Eric could address him in hyperspeak, Eric was pleased to see both of the grizzled looking veteran mercs he had seen in Lord Song’s death trap of a throne room saluting the dwarven king fist to chest. “Sir, we’ve successfully retrieved our blasters and force shields. Are power armor is trapped in a triple vaulted secure room,” said the closest with a scar running down the bridge of his nose, radiating the aura of an experienced Bronze. At least Rank 30, Eric would guess, without poking him in the metaphoric eye with an Identify he suspected that the man would immediately sense.
The second mercenary captain was free of any scar or blemish, possessing the features of a man in his prime, his hair and weathered gaze all that gave his advanced age away. He dipped his head. “We’re ready to perform as skirmishers or flankers.”
“Good!” Orlin commended. “Like I said, our priority here is survival. If we can take Song down, each of your companies are getting a five million credit bonus, paid for with Blue Corp credits by our good friend Prince Eric Silver here!”
The dwarven king flashed Eric a too wide grin. “Isn’t that right, Eric?”
Eric smirked as the pair of men gave him a similar salute. “Damn straight! I just pinged Caliban. What are your company names?”
“Wolverine, Sir!”
“Grayson, Your Grace.”
Eric nodded. “Noted. Okay. Good. Caliban says you both already have open accounts here at the Terran branch of Blue S&L, so no problem. You’re both now slated to be up 5 million the minute we claim Song’s head… and once New York’s wrapped up, he’s inviting both of you to consider signing up with Blue.”
The pair of men exchanged hard smiles. “Kid’s actually for real.”
“Can’t believe we’re taking employment advice from a talking rabbit.”
“Hey, I’ll have you know my familiar’s top gun in every way that counts,” Eric declared, earning blinks from the pair of men.
“Wait, that was you?”
Eric grinned. “Why do you think I was spitting up blood? Lord Song’s clearly no joke, but he couldn’t break the ritual until he fully exerted himself to the world… and some very interested players beyond.”
“Name’s Lars,” said the stronger of the two. “Mikael and I are pleased to serve.”
“Excellent. Well, I won’t fuck up the chain of command. His Grace King Orlin will give the orders, but I reserve the right to harry or strike however I see fit to claim the field… and the key.”
He gave King Orlin a pointed look, earning a wry chuckle.
“That bastard’s strong as hell, Eric! He’s a Silver, no doubt. At least Rank 10, I’m sure of it! You want to fight him for the key, I won’t stop you, boy. Our own arrangement notwithstanding.” The dwarf’s smile faded into a look of grim foreboding. “And he’s no longer holding back. Not in the way all of us instinctively know to. That means he’s putting everything on the line. He’ll either end this season as a feted noble of the Terran Court, A Duke if he can claim this entire former state… or he’ll be answering so some very powerful people. But seeing as might truly does make right on ascending worlds… he has a chance of coming out ahead in ways he’d never be permitted to in more settled regions. So he’s willing to throw down without reservation.”
Eric flashed a hungry grin. “Good. Because I absolutely hate holding back.”
The king crossed his arms. “And you have been holding back. Haven’t you?”
Eric’s smile grew. Wide enough that Mikael and Lars both flinched and stepped back, though they never lost good trigger discipline with the sniper rifles Eric was pleased to see that they both had on hand, and their gazes stayed those of cool professionals.
“Yeah, you know what? Maybe I have. Just a bit. Now, what can you boys tell me about our good friend Asshole Song?”
“He’s using a major suppression aura,” Lars noted. “Five paces in all directions, all magic fizzles out. No spell can touch him. And if you’re relying on enchanted gear…” He flashed a sad smile. “A group of adventurers actually tried to prove their metal against him. Stupid, idealistic fools.” He sighed. “The minute they closed, they stumbled, looks of horror on their faces when the closest of the twelve grey knights swung his zweihander, cleaving their tank in half. Even with us providing cover, only three kids got away, and that was with Song laughing at us all, clearly enjoying no longer having to hold back.”
Eric winced. “Yeah… that doesn’t sound good. Field of anti-magic you said?” He furrowed his brow. “How does it handle blaster fire?”
“Field of Anti-magic, or his Aura of Dominion forcing reality to comply to his will.” Mikael flashed a hard smile. “Honestly, it’s just cat and mouse. We can’t do shit, except keep the orcs in their place. One unit alone attempted to move out one of their oversized cannons. So we had a talk with their Big Boss, once I vaporized the heads of their closest artillery regiment at 500 paces.”
Lars smirked. “TThe orcs will stand down for this engagement. There are 20,000 of them. With over a hundred cannons. They could be a right fucking headache, if they had proper organization, discipline, and were willing to sacrifice their lives without flinching. But since none of those things are true…”
Orlin laughed, steam rifle tapping against his oversized shield. “A battery of a hundred cannons spitting out grapeshot or hard shells could make life difficult! But since no orc artillery crew wants to be the first to die… Chief Big Think thought it best to swear fealty to whoever wins!”
Eric blinked. “Chief Big Think? Wait… wasn’t their an orc king by that name who thought it was better to make nice with the smart elves instead of butchering them after his little bout of conquest? And now we actually have a line of half-intelligent and surprisingly cute muscle mommy orcs out there on at least one of their worlds?”
Lars and Mikael exchanged knowing smiles.
Orlin nodded. “Damn, not a complete idiot for someone brought up on Earth, but yes. Chief Big Think is from King Big Think’s line.
Eric felt an odd shiver. “Fuck. Now my oath is confused. I can’t just slaughter them…”
“Because they’re as much elf as orc!” Orlin smirked. “That’s why you gotta think through the major oaths you make.”
Eric scowled. “But at least some of those orcs were praying on the natives.”
Lars furrowed his brow. “You know there’s more than one chieftain and orc clan out there, don’t you? There are over twenty thousand. Big Think’s clan focuses on artillery. Blood Fang’s clan is the one with the berserkers.”
Mikael dipped his head. “They’re in separate camps, too. Big Think’s clan tries to avoid bad influences.”
Eric blinked. “Okay, let me pull up my DI…” His eyes widened. “No shit. I see the split in troop deployment, by the galleons. Even my interface has pink versus blood red. So, we need to negotiate with Blood Fang’s camp too?”
Lars chuckled coldly. “Their entire regiment began to swarm when Song gave the orders to purge the city. They cooled down pretty quick when we vaporized the skulls of the first few dozen.”
Eric flashed a hard grin. “No shit. Somehow, I’m not surprised to hear that.”
Mikael chuckled. “Don’t worry, Your Grace. You invest in us, we’ll make it worth your while. The orcs wont’ be a problem.”
Eric frowned. “Alright, just how long was I out?”
Orlin gave him a hard look. “Too long. Had I been less of an upright dwarf...”
Cold chills shivered down Eric’s spine, internally castigating himself for being a fool. And it was to his very great credit that Orlin just smirked and shook his head.
“Ah, youthful idealism, and knowing you’re putting your silly ass on the line to help my clan buys you a bit of grace. Now, if you’re feeling better... we got a war to win.”
Eric dipped his head. “Damn right we do.” He took careful note of both mercenary captains, Orlin, Eliot and Zachary chatting with another dwarven pilot in his mecha.
That’s when he sensed it.
The parting of unseen mists, strange shadows billowing that the brooding mercenaries seemed to be completely blind to. Everyone save Eric. Then Eliot, now turning to glare at the sparkling portal forming between corridors with his bow fully knocked, and Orlin spitting out a curse, fist clenching the hilt of his axe.
“Fucking hell. It’s you.”
Eric suppressed a wince when the shadows bled away to reveal a too cheerily smiling Maybel Drachen of all people. And how strange it was for the once eccentrically dressed and easily intimidated academic to gaze upon them all with knowing sangfroid, as if she was now completely in her element in the middle of a war zone, and not fazed in the least.
“Hello to you too, Your Grace. It’s a pity you found no interest in entertaining any of my earlier offers. I’m afraid the terms of our future arrangements won’t be nearly so… gracious.” She flashed a cold smile that made the dwarf blanch, and didn’t fit her prim manner at all. “But don’t worry, Orlin. With dwarven craftsmen of your clan’s calibre at our beck and call... I’m sure mutually satisfactory arrangements can be made.”
She then turned to a bemused Eric, flashing a too bright smile. “Ah, Ernest! Or are we going by Eric, now? Either way, I do thank you for your earlier… courtesy. My clan shall exhibit the same. Though you completely failed to retrieve the prize I sought or complete any quest whatsoever on my behalf… on my clan’s behalf… and thus I declare all bonds and accords rightfully severed between us, with no penalty to either party… I do hope you actually survive your little tussle with Song. It will make retrieving what will be ours SO much easier.”
Eric blinked, feeling a twisting surge of anxiety in his gut when it finally clicked, a full second later. “Ah. The golden key which you actually don’t need. Because the key you really wanted was the dragon artifact in Enigma that Jim already retrieved for you.”
Maybel’s eyes twinkled with bemusement as a pair of leathery wings sprouted from her back. She gave a cheerful little clap. “Not quite so dense as most of your kind. Bravo!”
Eric suppressed the surge of dismay roiling inside him, forcing a neutral smile. “I note that you specifically emphasized how all bonds and accords are severed between us, now that the prize you so ardently sought is in your hand. I’m guessing we both know what comes next, don’t we, Maybel?”
Maybel’s bemused smirk turned hard and cold. “I .wish you all the best at clearing New York of all its filth and congestion, Contender. Tear free Song’s potency and leave with whatever prizes you choose. But it would be best if you did, in fact, leave.”
Eliot gave a confused look even as Orlin blanched, glaring helplessly at Maybel and cursing under his breath, though Eric noted he made absolutely no move to strike or hinder the scholarly looking woman smirking at them all.
Probably because of the dragon wings that had sprouted from her back.
Or perhaps it was the tale.
Or the teeth.
Or that her eyes now blazed with draconic flame.
Eric smirked. “Tell Princess Irene I said hello. I’m looking forward to our reunion.”
The air flared with sudden tension as Eliot gasped and Orlin cursed all the louder, a dragon no longer hiding her killing aura.
“Ware your words, elf!”
Eric coolly held her gaze. “I took care of her little problem, and Irene knows EXACTLY what that means. A thorn in her side—a very poisonous thorn, has been removed. Your cute games with bread and salt aside, she fucking owes me and she knows it. Even if you don’t.”
Maybel’s glare turned to a snarl.
Eric flashed a killing smile, hunger turning his teeth sharp and wicked. “A warm-up before Song? Sure. Let’s dance.”
Eliot paled. “Oh fuck. What the hell happened to your mouth, Eric?”
Maybel’s predatory glare turned to a haughty sniff. “All you wildblooded Contenders are really too much. Very well. I will convey your… counsel to Princess Irene. Perhaps she will offer you a token consolation for your continued good behavior. Farewell.”
With a single flap of her wings she was off, soaring through the heavens at a surprisingly fast clip.
Orlin groaned, rubbing his face. “This is not good. Not good at all, Eric!”
Eric gently clapped the brooding king’s shoulder. “You give me your key and I’ll keep my oath, keeping your clan hidden from any and all threats with all the shadowy tunnels you want for easy ingress and egress that no tyrant or dragon will spot or be able to follow. And I’ll do it without trying to slip out of our bargain, unlike a certain scaly clan.”
Orlin’s eyes flashed. “Not until that bastard Song’s taken care of!” He snapped.
Eric nodded in cool agreement. “That is the plan. Okay, I’ve got you all pinged on my DI map.” He then gazed off into the distance where the empire state building still stood, frowning as he took in the growing plume of dust and distant screams that his Perception made all too clear, when he really focused. “And I think I’ve spotted our friends. I think I’ll head on over and say hi!”
“Be careful, Eric! That suppression ward he’s radiating is no joke!”
“Noted,” Eric said, no longer holding back as he leaped off the building and raced through the wind. Unable to hold back the excitement as he approached his prey, the voices of his fellow Contenders and King Orlin slipping behind him.
“Shit, how fast… that’s bullet time!”
“Ha! Who did he think he was fooling? I knew he was holding back.”
Eric wiped off a too satisfied smirk, knowing it was at least in part relief from having gone several days where he truly had been almost as fragile as glass. As vulnerable as he had been when first daring to step out of his underground bunker… gazing firsthand at death in the form of doubleshot crossbows, oversized feral wolves, and a wild-eyed Contender that could have so easily cost him absolutely everything.
But now, racing through the cityscape as fast as he dared while still keeping an eagle eye out for targets below, he reveled in every last point of his superhuman attributes. Fully in control of his destiny and fate, once more.
Until a single unexpected word tore it all away.
“Sunder!”
Eric’s heart clenched, a silent scream upon his lips as his wings of metaphor and dream were torn free by an arch lord’s command. He crashed to the earth, chains of Dominion not his own clamping down upon his soul as he spun to the ground, the world turning end over end, Eric too dazed to do anything save hurtle to the ground in an explosion of blacktop, concrete, and steel rebar, Interface messages blaring across his mind.
Rank 5 Aura of Dominion in Effect!
Rank 5 Aura of Dominion supersedes Rank 4 Dominion.
Speed Racer perk has been (partially) suppressed!
Battletime in full effect. Inertia mitigation in full effect.
You have hit the ground at Mach 1 Speed!
804 Physical Damage Resistance (multiple tiers above Imperial Dreadnought Armor!) mitigate ALL Terran baseline damage! Physical Damage Resistance FURTHER mitigated by time dilation! 115X Olympian speed = 1/115 Force & Momentum damage! You EFFORTLESSLY Role with the blow!
Speed Racer boon in effect! Inertia has been canceled!
Eric shook his head, brushing off flecks of rebar that did absolutely nothing to him, ignoring the horrified looks coming from the ragged handful of survivors glancing his way from the broken windows of the ruins nearby, all his focus now on the smirking seven foot tall Silver Contender covered in black iron radiating the Essence of Resilience so like Eric’s own Cuirass of the Underlord that was now approaching him at a casual stride. Eric glared at Song’s war hammer, radiating a pulsating essence of crushing Dominion.
Lord Song laughed coldly, twelve dead-eyed knights with sickly grey skin dressed in similar black iron enhanced by the essence of Resilience marching in perfect lockstep behind him.
“Ah. Eric Silver. A pathetic excuse for a trust fund brat, now daring to strive for prizes that will be forever beyond your reach. I am quite eager to be the one who puts you in your place!”
“Wow. Small world. You actually recognize me! And I still have no idea who the fuck you are, save for an asshole who tried to shoot me down after I took care of your nasty wolf problem.” Eric said with a cheeky grin, painfully aware of too many terrified eyes gazing down at them both.
“Bunbun, I know you and Grim aren’t allowed to directly interfere if I’m to take New York clean, but can we do anything about all the poor mortals hiding all around us? This place is about to become fucking red hot!”
“Let me see what Grim I can do, Fearless Leader! You got a spare 100 Soul Reserves?”
“Do it.”
To Eric’s relief, a cool fog billowed across the street, and he didn’t even begrudge the cost.
Lord Song laughed coldly, twirling his war hammer and sending shockwaves through the air. “A certain Contender actually dared to wrest a certain prize from me. He’s paying for that offense as we speak in a pain vat. And how greatly it pleases me to say that you will soon be joining him. I look forward to supping upon the sweet essences of your potency and screams for years to come.”
“Kill him, now!”
Lord Song glared up at the quartet of elite mercenaries on the most stable looking of the nearby building ledges, wearing polymer skin suits and armed with weapons that would have filled any soldier of a bygone era with envy. The filling the air with the thundering crack of projectile bullets much like the gun Eric had once gifted a certain up and coming teen adventure after rescuing her family. He could all but taste their perk combos enhancing their ammunition to deadly effect. No doubt they were hoping to penetrate whatever Aura of Authority was suppressing arcane arts.
Yet all the hail of feat-enhanced 100 caliber bullets earned was earn a glare of contempt as Lord Song squeezed his fist.
“Rupture!”
Eric’s eyes widened at the sight of hard-eyed professionals crumpling under sudden hideous pressure. Awful heartbeats where they somehow used their cores to fight furiously against the horrific pressure squeezing them at all angles as their faces engorged with blood… before their bodies burst in showers of ruptured organs and bright red gore. Like squealing pigs thrown down a ravine.
Song’s bloodless lips curled in a twisted grin even as Eric gasped with sudden horrific revelation.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“You motherfucker. That was a hybrid Psionic attack. You’re a Psionicist!”
Lord Songs eyes snapped to meet Eric’s own. And for the first time ever, Eric felt the awful sensation of a Psioncist’s slimy cold hands slithering across his brain, feeling much like the horrid sensation of silvery worms squirming in his head, back during the first and only time he allowed the System to directly boost his Arcane Reserves.
The Silver tyrant chuckled coldly, even as he twirled his massive war hammer. “I see you understand precisely what that means, worm. Good! For I have declared myself Ascendant! All strictures have been removed, all paths of power are now open to me!”
“So long as you claim all of New York before your time runs out,” Eric said with a cold smile. “If you fail to do so, your goose is cooked.”
Song’s condescending sneer turned to a murderous glare. “You speak of things beyond your province, you disgusting abomination of an elf! For I have mastered your kind’s greatest weakness. I am what your bitch of a mother fears most!” His look of hate turned to a mocking grin. “Why do you think your mother fled New York with her tail behind her legs as fast as she could after the ascension?”
“She was smart enough not to get caught in the 4-D warping that New York City has become, trapping so many of you Silver wanna-be tyrants?”
Song snarled. “Flee it? She caused it! For all her vaunted power, she was desperate to escape before the ascension, knowing I would come for her! Your clan will find few friends here. That foolish bitch invested her own potency into hastening along New York’s coiling! And it availed her nothing in the end. Even my projection was enough to corral so many mercenaries into obedience, clearing and claiming so many wild regions in my name while your pathetic mother, desperately holding on to a few hundred panicked low-level elves, was so far beneath me that I could have crushed her with a single squeeze of my fist!”
Song flashed a mocking smile. “I let that bitch live, of course. Your reviled clan was the perfect catalysts for countless orcs, gnolls, and goblins to march under my banner! And now, you obnoxious excuse for a bastard child, I will show you firsthand why your kind will forever fall before my own.
“Rupture!”
Song’s eyes blazed like twin, hate-filled suns.
Eric choked back a scream even as he felt hideously potent fingers claw through his skull.
For a heartbeat, his ears rang with the mockery of his foe, skull ringing with the taunting laughter of a vicious bully who would happily grind the entire city to dust.
Eric howled, clenching his fists and charging forward, before stopping cold, just a heartbeat before he summoned his blade.
His Danger Sense was screaming, even as he saw the mocking twinkle in Song’s eye.
He didn’t know why it was so. Or how it was so… but he knew it was true.
His foe knew of his deadliest attack. 14 Tiers of Icy Flame. 4 Essences conjoined in pristine harmony in an attack so deadly, so transcendent, that it had served as the catalyst to his mother’s ascension to Gold.
An attack that had once ruptured not just one space-faring battleship, but an entire fleet of mile-long imperial dreadnoughts.
A transcendent ability that had half the counsel screaming for blood whenever they sensed its echo here on Earth. An attack that might one day see him claim the golden crown his mother had, for all intense and purposes, left for him.
Yet somehow, Eric was filled with the sickening sense that the war hammer utterly saturated with the crushing weight of Dominion that his foe was so casually swinging would trump his blade.
He just knew it.
Just as he knew that slow taunting swings were a facade.
His foe was faster than the 600 Quickness he teased.
Far faster.
Eric’s eyes widened. “Fuck. You’re holding back.” He gave a cold chuckle, bitterly shaking his head. “You fucking fuck! There’s a reason why you’re not using that blaster, and it has nothing to do with any idiot of a Contender. You know precisely how I took down that feral dog!”
Song’s smile was all teeth.
Eric’s mouth had gone bone dry, finally recognizing the odd super-dimensional resonance in the air. Only because his mother had once glittered with so much more. An entire deck’s worth, used to destroy her most hated foe.
“You have a Card of Fate in play!”
The air roared with laughter. “How sweet it is when the prey spots the trap when it’s already too late to flee!”
Song roared and charged as Eric deliberately took his hand off the hilt of his sheathed blade even as Song’s hideous mind sought to squeeze his own to a pulp.
“Die, elf!” Song roared, now charging forth and lashing out with a war hammer so infused with the essence of Crushing Dominion that Eric was dreadfully certain that his absurd 800 Physical Resistance, supposedly enough to effortlessly endure an entire battery of battleship artillery without breaking a sweat, would mean absolutely nothing if that hammer made contact with his flesh.
His skull would shatter like glass.
FUCK!
Eric did the only thing he could think of in that horrifying moment before his foe could whip his war hammer around in a dizzying series of bone shattering moulinets that was now far closer to 1500 Quickness than 600… and for all Eric knew, his foe was faster still.
Far faster. Pressuring Eric into a trap where a single mistake, a single kiss with that deadly war hammer glittering with death’s promise—and his chest or head would explode.
So Eric, not being a complete idiot, didn’t hesitate to twist around and sprint away for all he was worth, the air filling with Song’s roaring laughter.
“Run, coward! Run! That’s all you can manage before your brain explodes, just like your long dead brothers!”
Eric’s eyes bulged with shock and fury, the crushing weight of Dominion’s Grip slipping off when fear turned to Wrath and he jerked his mind free of a surprised Song even as he twisted to face his sneering foe while whipping his right arm around, unleashing a white-knuckled fastball with absolutely everything he had.
NOW!
Before roaring and charging into Song’s space, weaving past the half-dropped war hammer the very instant his fastball hit its target. Which was neither his foes chest or the crown of his skull, both protected with armor screaming with Dominion’s essence, so like Eric’s own cuirass. No. To be fair, far beyond Eric’s own artifact.
Instead, his target was that taunting smirk, Song’s eyes bulging in surprise when 24 pounds of tungsten osmium carbide alloy in a perfect 3 and a half inch sphere infused with Eric’s own essence of Dominion blasted into Song’s mouth at 17 times the speed of sound with—if the System Interface message gleefully blinking across his mind’s eye was anything to go by—about 160 megajoules of kinetic energy.
Eric had basically hit him with a round from a prototype navy rail gun that would never again be fired… save as Eric’s fastball special.
Not enough to obliterate a Silver Tier Contender infused with Dominion’s essence so close to impermeability… infusing his body in a way that Eric sadly lacked any techniques to do… as Eric was still the farthest thing from an ascended Silver.
But the force generated was more than enough to crack Song’s head back in an explosion of blood and shattered teeth spraying everywhere and setting Song up perfectly for a punch right to the neck, the tyrant’s body flipping end over end as the clamping pressure against Eric’s poor brain eased at last, Dense Neurons and over 300 Psion Resistance proving its worth like never before.
Rank 4 Dominion Boosted by Rank 2 Essence of Wrath trumps Dominion infused Soul Crush!
- He really shouldn’t have mentioned your dead brothers. Guess who’s been sniping at your clan for decades!? -
Your opponent’s mental fingers slip right off your Dense Neurons!
You have REFUSED to draw your sword while your foe wields his hammer!
You have struck your opponent with Winter’s Bite! Combined Rank 8 Dominion and Cold pierces Rank 5 Aura of Dominion.
You have successfully damaged your foe!
Your foe is suffering from Concussion!
Your foe is suffering from Disorientation!
NOTE! Your foe RESISTS the effects of Quickness and Vitality drain. You claim NONE of either!
Eric wasted no time, glaring at the dozen grey knights, as they charged him as one, tainted steel infused with the essence of sharpness, which again, could at least partially tear through his shockingly high Physical Resistance—as his human body underneath his cuirass was infused with no essences at all—meant that he was once more in dire peril as his foes roared and lashed out with their vorpal blades, eager to cleave off Eric’s head or at least give their wounded master the time he needed to recover.
“Fragor!” Eric snarled, eyes alight with furious glee as the nearest knight’s head exploded.
“Fragor!” He roared once more, chasing the tingle of revelation, having recognized a dread power so similar to his own with Song’s twisted use of the most pristine and ruthless of arts.
A Psionic attack that Song had infused not with Wrath, but Dominion.
“No! Impossible!” Song roared form the crumpled building he had crashed into as he shook his head, Eric thinking it a miracle that his esophagus hadn’t ruptured, though the tyrant’s nose was spraying blood, one of his eyes dilated while the other was a bloody pinprick, and Song’s features were tinged with frostbite as he shivered, before roaring and springing back to his feet. “You’re a half-elven abomination! There’s no way one such as you would have access to a Psion Knight’s arts! There is no way you would know not to draw your blade!”
“Bossman! Grim’s successfully opened portals in all the nearby buildings! We’ve cleared out the civvies… there were only a few!”
Eric gave the tiniest nod of acknowledgment even as the remaining ten armored knights surrounded him.
Song’s outraged glare turned to a mocking sneer as he whipped his reclaimed war hammer about himself with chilling speed, Eric’s Danger Sense shrieking once more.
“No matter! Sword or no, abomination of our arts or no, you will pay the price for daring to cihallenge a master of this game.”
The monster smiled through his broken teeth before holding up Eric’s enchanted ball.
Black fire flared over Eric’s tungsten osmium masterpiece.
He screamed, feeling a piece of his soul burning…
Before the ball crumpled to ash.
Eric stumbled back in horror, a tiny portion of his Soul Reserves having been consumed by his foe.
Utterly.
And it was never coming back.
Song chuckled coldly at Eric’s look of horror.
“Now, you are powerless, elf! No arcane arts are permitted within the Aura of my Dominion! My arts alone are permitted!”
His ten remaining grey knights closed, sword’s edges cutting the very air before them.
“My sworn blades kiss the Essence of Sharpness. They shall disembowel you and harry you, pathetic elf! Then my hammer shall crush your bones like glass, and you can do nothing before them! Their armor is as Resilient as my—”
“Fire Fist!” Eric roared, no longer daring to hold back, tasting fierce, sharp peril in the air. Sensing that he had almost fallen under his foe’s spell, fate itself coaxed into trance, before Eric burned the siren song away.
Hot enough to flare past five ranks of a Silver’s suppression.
Hot enough to obliterate the grey knight before Eric, the nine revenants surrounding him, and the former high rises on all sides.
Transcendent Fire Fist boosted 40-Fold by Burst of Strength!
Transcendent Fire Fist boosted 6-Fold by essences of Fire and Wrath!
Cultivator’s Might, Cultivator’s Fury, Death’s Disciple in FULL effect!
Charge of the Light Brigade in FULL effect!
Primal Phoenix Class boons in FULL effect!
You have critically struck 10 Bronze-Tier Revenant Knights for Catastrophic Damage!
You have critically struck 6 adjoining High Rise buildings for Catastrophic Damage!
You have obliterated an additional 20 mercenaries, 15 adventurers, and 1520 noncombatants!
Experience Earned!
Eric felt a horrified jolt of dismay.
“Fuck, Eric, I’m sorry! I didn’t think… Oh I fucked up, I’m sorry, I forgot how hot your punch is now! And you’ve killed Silvers with it… I’m an idiot!”
Eric ignored his familiar’s despairing cry. He didn’t blame her.
The fuck up and the horrific shame he should feel, would feel, was his own cross to bare.
But not now.
Now, there was only the wild-eyed countenance of Song, glaring at him with fear and contempt in equal measure.
Now, there was only a killing HATE for the monster that had forced this awful confrontation.
“No. No! You’re nothing more than Aurelia’s latest cast-off failure! A teenage whelp, an anchor point, no more! You’re NOTHING before me!” Song roared, now seeming to grow and swell to monstrous size and might as a silvery crown of dread authority bloomed over his head.
“You will fall before me, mongrel bastard, and I, Lord Song, will reign supreme. As is my DESTINY”
“Fragor!” Eric shouted as he darted forward, his long spear once more in hand.
Song sneered as Eric’s Wrath-infused Psionic Shout deflected harmlessly over the man’s potent Psionic Resistance, further infused with five unbreachable ranks of Dominion.
“Fool! You think you can best a Psionicist at his own—NO!”
Song’s eyes widened in furious alarm.
Arrogant, overconfident, but no fool.
Eric could sense the sudden infusion of a weapon feat as Song’s war hammer swung with the echo of countless berserkers, a swing that would sweep any and all attacks aside, revealed in the screaming nano-seconds that Battletime allowed Eric to perceive so clearly.
A blow that would have effortlessly send Eric’s mithril sword flying.
No. Its reach was longer.
If Eric had charged into mithril blade range, knowing his Qi extension wouldn’t have pierced 5 ranks of Dominion… knowing that his actual blade alone had to kiss his foe’s flesh… it would have been the last mistake he would have ever made.
With Song’s lightning fast Obliterating Blows weapon feat in play… it would have pulverized his skull in the blink of an eye.
Yet Eric’s ancient Macedonian spear was longer than his sword.
Much longer.
Not that it would keep his weapon from being smashed aside before the follow-up war hammer strike pulverized his skull.
Unless he infused his spear with a perk of his own. His target was now the farthest thing from Song’s still vulnerable sneering face… a taunt to lure Eric into striking high.
So he avoided that hate-filled countenance completely.
Piercing Strike!
You have successfully struck your target, channeling the essence of Cold and Wrath through your foe!
Song blinked with momentary confusion, gazing down at his own hands even as Eric’s spear shattered against the essence infused breastplate he had ultimately struck.
But not before first tearing through his true target… the hands wrapped about the war hammer that went flying as Song’s left hand froze to ice in an explosion of essence-infused wood, frozen flesh, and bitter cold, in the blink of an eye.
And before Song could think of a single response in the instant it took Eric’s twenty five foot long spear to tear through his palm and crash against his body, his mouth was being kissed by Eric’s fist.
And this time, Eric wasn’t holding back.
The City was already dealing with one rapidly expanding fireball.
So why not another?
FIRE FIST!
You have critically struck your foe with a Transcendent Attack!
Rank 6 Combined Fire & Wrath TRUMPS Crown of Authority!
You have done CATASTROPHIC Damage to your pray!
Your target has been disarmed.
Your target is incapacitated!
Fireball continues to expand!
Fireballs have fused!
You have have completely obliterated two city blocks and slain an additional 3126 noncombatants!
All Bronze Tier mercenaries have successfully fled the area!
Eric nearly stumbled when the true gravity of his act hit him, finding the sight of a war hammer promising his death and pieces of priceless armor scattering free of their owner bitter consolation for the terrified screams below.
“Focus!” His familiar desperately cried in his mind. “Grim made it clear that they were were all dead anyway, Eric. No one was going to survive Song’s breakthrough!”
Eric’s eyes widened in genuine surprise when the blazing near corpse that was his foe flared with Silvery essence, feeling a cold chill of dismay, realizing that it could be only mean one thing.
“Oh shit. Eric! Silver-tier fuckery. It has to be! That fucker’s getting a complete reset!” Bunz screamed.
The air filled with a madman’s laughter as Song spun through the air, now high above the city Eric had set ablaze.
The monster took a deep breath, flashing once-more restored teeth, opening eyes free of blood and now showing absolutely no signs of concussion as he gazed down at the city he would claim.
But Eric wasn’t a passive audience quaking in fear like so many others gazing up at the dueling titans below. Those not screaming with third degree burns… or making no sound at all.
Song’s furious countenance twisted with dismay, to see Eric racing toward him far faster than he had been expecting.
Fury turned to contempt.
“You cost me a priceless artifact. The cost of which I will extract from your soul. REND!” He roared once more.
Eric instantly felt the chains of Dominion wrapping about him yet again, his enemy’s smile turning to an evil rictus as Eric was jerked back to the ground even as Song prepared a spell that made the very air shudder, and Eric instantly understood.
“That’s wright, worm! You think you can take this city from me? Then I will destroy it ALL! For I need naught the city to claim all the territories you have so conveniently cleared for me already. New York state will be mine! The duchy will be mine! My daring to Ascend and use all the powers at my disposal shall be VINDICATED before the high courts when your sister’s throne becomes my seat as I strangle her with my HATE! And purge the last of Aurelia’s cursed blood from this realm. MY realm!”
Eric gazed up at his sneering foe, laughing like the madman he was as the heavens were seared by a crimson rift opening to reveal a hideous alien eye bubbling with whipping strands of flesh blossoming with petals of blinking pupils glaring down upon them all.
Eric howled his defiance, his desperate cry no longer that of the doomed boy…
But the phoenix spreading his wings in furious flight, sending Dominion’s ethereal chains ablaze before snapping free of them completely.
Rank 5 Essence of Dominion FAILS to suppress 14 Synergized Essence Ranks manifesting as Wings of The Phoenix!
Phoenix Flight Perk in play! Conceptio (yours truly!) successfully HIDES the glitter of your wings from all known extradimensional foes!
Lord Song’s triumphant smirk turned to a jolt of panic.
“No. No! Such is forbidden! You should not be here!”
An eye blink later and there was no bird. Merely Eric charging forth once more, wielding a blade of frozen flame with a core blazing hotter than any sun.
“Come to me!” Song desperately cried, a tiny corner of Eric’s channeled focus sensing the perilous weapon even now flying in reverse through the air, back toward its master at bullet speed.
But not Mach IV speed.
“RUPTURE and fall before me!” Song screamed.
It was a shout laden with a madman’s furious desperation as a final card was played.
A bane that pried at Eric’s greatest weakness, nearly every mammal’s greatest weakness, both his eyes rupturing in their sockets.
Yet a would-be conqueror’s laughter was short-lived when Song’s blinded prey didn’t race away, crippled and screaming.
But instead continued to charge right at him.
As if pain meant nothing. Distortion meant nothing.
And Song’s desperate mastery over reality itself meant absolutely nothing against a foe who had learned to hunt by heat sense alone from the very first day he had escaped from the pod that had tried so hard to kill him.
“No, impossible! My artifact prevents all magic! You’re just a crippled elf! Hammer! Come to me— NO!!”
Panicked disbelief flittered across Song’s features as frigid fire flashed once, and Song’s world became one of pristine cold twisting about his limbs such that not even his desperate mastery over reality itself could slip free with the bitter COLD biting into him…
And what was that awful heat… a flame that grew and grew until his world was white hot oblivion…
Then darkness without end.
“Phoenix Strike!”
The world erupted in pristine flame and fragments of Dominion-infused ice that tore into the hideous eye above, a heartbeat before the rift closed once more.
Eric howled with the weight of Ascension tearing into him, claiming sweetest potency and the essence of Dominion as another realm fell into his grasp while the city below merrily burned, his trembling hands now clenching his fourth golden key.
Congratulations! You have successfully slipped free of Death’s Bane and slain a (half-step) Silver-Tier Contender!
Eve approves of this battle! You are now a Level 73 Death’s Disciple!
Maximum Potency to Skill Rank Conversion (still) in effect!
Fire Fist is now Rank 29!
Doom Strike is now Rank 13!
Unarmed Combat is now Rank 33!
Spear is now Rank 31!
Cannonball Throwing is now Rank 11!
Core Class Skill: Essence Infusion is now Rank 12!
Lord Song - Psionic Reaver - Essences (Dominion) – Rank 5
Strength 1500 / Vitality 1500 / Finesse 1000 / Quickness 1500 / Appearance (Ugly bastard!) / Scholarship (Insignificant) / Perception 1000 / Psionic Potency 1500 / Arcane Potential 500 / Spiritual Energy (none) / Soul Reserves (Insignificant) /
You have successfully torn free: 112.5 Strength, 112.5 Vitality, 75 Finesse, 112.5 Quickness, 75 perception, 112.5 Psionic Potency, and 37.5 Arcane Potential from your foe! Attributes will be further enhanced by all applicable bonuses!
The phoenix ascends with one additional Rank of Dominion!
You have now achieved Rank 5 Essence of Dominion!
You have FAILED to claim Silver-tier technique: Dominion’s Infusion.
You have FAILED to claim Silver-tier technique: Dominion’s Authority.
You have FAILED to claim Fate Card: Swordsman’s Bane.
You have gained additional (limited) insights into the Psionicist’s art.
Psionic Blast has increased 2 full levels!
The appetite of your Inner Phoenix continues to blossom.
Path of Endless Bounty is now Rank 19.
3rd Tier Core Saturation is now at 95.56%!
Note! Tainted battle against tainted opponent! Meridian Plaque has increased from 0.031% to 2.1%!
Eric’s echoing howl seemed to reverberate through the entire city, his entire body shuddering with the sheer rush of sweet, sweet power thrumming through his soul, even as countless neighborhoods burned below while his Interface glowed with joyful messages, the air itself thrumming with a final announcement that he feared the entire world could hear.
Congratulations! You are the first Native Contender to achieve a Strength beyond 2100 upon the face of Terra!
You now enjoy an additional 10% attribute boon to all Strength points beyond 2100!
Congratulations! You are the first Native Contender to achieve a Vitality beyond 2100 upon the face of Terra!
You now enjoy an additional 10% attribute boon to all Vitality points beyond 2100!
Congratulations! You are the first Native Contender to achieve a Finesse beyond 1300 upon the face of Terra!
You now enjoy an additional 10% attribute boon to all Finesse points beyond 1300!
Congratulations! You are the first Native Contender to achieve a Perception beyond 1300 upon the face of Terra!
You now enjoy an additional 10% attribute boon to all Perception points beyond 1300!
Congratulations! You are the first Native Contender to achieve Arcane Potential beyond 1300 upon the face of Terra!
You now enjoy an additional 10% attribute boon to all Arcane Potential points beyond 1300!
Congratulations! You are the first Native Contender to achieve Psionic Potential beyond 500 in the Northeast Sector.
You now enjoy an additional 40% attribute boon to all Psion Potential points beyond 500!
System-Wide Alert! - Eric Silver, Prince of Arcadia, now transcends ALL OTHER NATIVE COMPETITORS in Strength / Vitality / Finesse / Quickness / Perception / Arcane Reserves on all Terran Leader Boards!
For a single heartbeat, Eric felt a sense of furious dismay for a System he had almost been deluded enough to think actually had a soft spot for him that was now blaring his status before the world... before he spent a humble moment appreciating the profound act of grace he had been shown.
Conceptio hadn’t declared his attribute totals one at a time for the world to hear. The System had merely made a quick one sentence declaration with no details as to just how strong he truly was. Though its mention of Arcadia was perhaps a double-edged sword. It would hopefully throw people off the scent that a Contender daring the Path of Consumption was actually in their midst, though how else to explain his absolutely insane attribute progression? It might also entice ever more up-and-coming powers to join a winning team that, thanks to Mistridge, had already gained a loose alliance of at least non aggression from the less psychopathic Bronze and Silver would-be princes and powers all claiming their fiefdoms across the former continental United States.
Yet it might also entice ever stronger would-be Khans and madmen to put Elonia’s precious kingdom at risk.
Still, he couldn’t quite keep the wild grin off his features as he took a quick moment to appreciate just how far he had come attribute-wise, almost eager to welcome any trouble that dared to manifest upon Elonia’s doorstep.
He’d be sure to give them a welcome they’d never forget.
_______________________________________________________
Eric Silver Level 99 PRISTINE GOLDEN PHOENIX (Adventurer)
(3rd Tier Core Saturation at 95.51%!)
You and your progeny may now ascend to Light Gold without any planetary sacrifices needed at all!
Rank 73 DEATH’S DISCIPLE (Four Seasons Cultivator)
(You now have 2.1% Plaque upon your once PRISTINE Foundation! Fortunately, evolution ALWAYS finds away! But the wisest predator keeps to clean kills and occlusions BELOW 5% for as long as they can!!!)
Level 74 Master Necromancer
Physical Characteristics
Strength – 2381 (You can shred tungsten-reinforced bank vaults with ease!)
Vitality – 2378 (Your Vitality is worthy of a Silver-tier behemoth!)
Finesse – 1537 (You’re now as deadly as a Bronze-tier sniper. Even without all their perks!)
Quickness – 2649 (You’re over 130 times faster than an Olympic Fencer. Good thing Battletime makes pesky things like relativity, inertia, and air resistance strictly optional for you!)
Appearance – 36 (If this were pre-apocalypse, you would star in all your mother’s movies!)
Mental Characteristics
Scholarship – 39 (You’re still yourself, but your thoughts are clear and your memory is sharp!)
Perception – 1491 (A deadly marksman who always spots his prey. No one’s sneaking up on you!)
Willpower – 146 (You were forged in fire, and it shows!)
Charisma – 20 (No comment. This isn’t your path.)
Potency Pools
Arcane Potential – 1309 (An Archmage would be proud to make you his prodigy!)
(Mana Pool = 15719)
Spiritual Energy – 207 (You have paid an EXTREMELY steep price, maximizing your defenses, but none can deny your incredible resilience!)
(Qi Pool = 2493)
Psionic Potency – 536 (Despite your flaws, you’re worthy of a Psion Knight’s regard.)
(Psion Pool = 6433)
Soul Reserves – 1208 (You could be a Master Necromancer... You ARE a Master Necromancer!)
Stamina – 23690 Points
Health – 27781 Points
Resistances & Recovery
Physical Resistance – 934 (Terran-based physical attacks aren’t getting through, PERIOD! Your body is considerably tougher than Imperial-Class Dreadnought armor (600)! NOTHING short of deep Silver opponents or essence-infused attacks is damaging your flesh! With Battletime further cushioning the blows? You’re ABSURD!)
Physical Regeneration – 236 health per second (After triple-heart shots, it’s clear you DO need this!)
Elemental Resistance – 499 (748) (Resistances this high means that no Silver-tier master lacking essence-infused spells is stopping you, Hyperion Blazer!)
Qi Resistance – 584 (Shockingly high! Your resistances continue to skyrocket, even as your base potency pool continues to dwindle! BE CAREFUL, Body Cultivator! The wise warrior balances resilience with bountiful reserves!)
Mental Resistance – 545 (Even Silver-tier faerie enchantments, persuasion, or illusions will have a hard time effecting you!)
Psionic Resistance – 367 (Dense Neurons means that squid-brains and Psion Lords like Song won’t find you easy prey at all!)
--_________________________________________________________--
