Eric howled with furious despair, desperate to understand out how such a hideous curse could have such powerful hold on him. His disbelieving eyes grew wide with dismay as he sensed the thin crimson chain covered in thorns and familial blood binding him not just to the memory of a foe’s final spite-filled act… but to the literal millions of valiant warriors, his revenants he had forged into what had ammounted to shockingly powerful hypersonic kinetic missiles going well over MACH 30… the only reason why Malificent had fallen and Eric and Earth had survived.

  Over three million binding chains that would doom Eric just as surely as he had doomed…

  His father.

  And he could feel the ICBM Vidrig had somehow launched slowly taking off even now, aiming for a parabolic arc not for an overseas target, but for Elonia’s throne room. Somehow, Eric knew all this, just as he sensed the hideous degrees of multilayer curse magic and goblin reality-defying Soul-arts that had been used to forge that abomination of a weapon.

  As to why it had been left in the hands of desperate White-tier Terran administrators…

  He could fathom no more than he could any of his supposed sire’s extraordinarily twisted and convoluted schemes. But one more contingency assuring the obliteration of whatever had crossed him, unthinking spite transcending even his own death, seemed like something right up Malificent’s ally.

  Eric howled with furious dismay, only appreciating in that horrific moment how tightly his fate was bound to the deadliest fighting force imaginable. One that had helped him free Terra of a nightmare… only for that nightmare to risk coming to dreadful life just long enough to assure his and his family’s utter destruction.

  Even as Eric silently howled, mind desperately searching for a way to tear himself free of those invisible crimson chains that had still torn right through his near invulnerable flesh… Evelyn Death’s voice rang through the hall.

  “You and your unelected counsel would dare unleash your vendetta against imperial Inquisitors, Administrator Vidrig?”

  For a heartbeat, the bloated Vidrig flinched, before he stiffened, his pinch-faced cohort snarling in his ear as she actually dared to glare and sneer at the empress as if she was less than nothing.

  Vidrig’s blotchy features twisted in a madcap grin. “That’s right. It doesn’t matter! The nature of a hyperion bomb… everyone to perish will have never been!”

  “That’s right!” The nasty blue-robed judge hissed. “Once those vile children and their invading tribes are transformed to dust… it will be as if they were never here in the first place!”

  Baritone laughter rang from behind them as a far more fit, thanks to his actual combat class background, Administrator Chelton sneered down at Eric and Evelyn Death as well. “So, we truly have nothing to fear. Excellent. Our sources made it clear that our… package will be enough to wipe out Freetown and Arcadia both. With the spaceport and jump gate both about to be obliterated and eternally forgotten, I’d say this is one mess that will clean itself.”

  Hroka’s eyes widened in furious disbelief. “Are you fools insane? That’s not how Hyperion detonations work! That you would even suggest… Do you truly not understand the consequences? You and all your surviving kin will spend countless centuries suffering endless torments in a pain vat! Silently screaming for mercy that will NEVER come as your twisted bodies covered in pain blisters are put in the Museum of Torments! A cursed foul place whose only purpose is to serve as the ultimate deterrent, for not even the most jaded Silver monsters would DARE to strike the Imperial clan directly, as they would have a thousand years of agony to look forward to!”

  Bunbun nodded, now holding up her Andaarian tablet. “And I’m recording you bitches live! Congrats, assholes. With my Tiger Fleet contacts, you’re about to be galactically famous!”

  Caliban’s eyes widened at was was clearly shockingly powerful and utterly outlawed tech from the other side of the galaxy… but didn’t dare say a word, only looking Eric’s way with a sense of desperate hope and unguarded panic.

  “Empress, we beseech you!”

  Vidrig’s eyes widened with furious outrage. “You can record nothing! Such technology is forbidden!”

  Chelton paled and flinched back, haunted eyes seeing far more than he wanted to, when he took in Evelyn Death’s bemused countenance… and her pitiless smile.

  “Impossible! There is no possible way the ruler of the entire…” He swallowed, taking in Caliban’s desperate panic, Hroka’s furious diatribe. “What if we…”

  Hroka’s eyes widened with a desperate glimmer of hope. “If you actually abort that flagrant violation of over a dozen galactic treaties… then you’re unforgivable crimes shall be relegated as supreme acts of foolishness only! And your subsequent heroic actions will offer you full indemnity while your friends writhe eternally in their pain vats… and you’ll further earn a ten million credit bounty for exhibiting the tiniest flicker of COMMON FUCKING SENSE!”

  Evelyn Death gave the tiniest nod of her head. “It is so,” she said in the terrible silence of Elonia’s hall, the entire audience of doomed fairies gazing raptly at the perilous scene playing out before them all.

  “Abort the missile, Vidrig,” Chelton hissed.

  Vidrig froze, glaring at Chelton as the entire bunker filled with Administrators gazed on in the same breathless silence as the Sylvan court.

  “Abort it!” Chelton snapped, hands clenching whatever he had sheathed to his—

  The screen barked with the sound of gunshots.

  “Marge?” Chelton blinked with surprise, opening his lips as blood shout out of his mouth before his eyes rolled back and he toppled over in death.

  Revealing the pinch-faced judge in her blue robe glaring at Chelton with furious hate, after unloading half the clip of her plasma blaster into the former adventurer’s chest.

  She then pointed her blaster at Vidrig. “We finish this.”

  “Of course we do!” he snapped, glaring back at her. “Don’t point your toy at me, Marge. Keep it on any asshole that dares to step out of line!”

  Marge’s eyes widened, a cruel smile coming to her lips. “Yes… my liege.”

  Vidrig’s lips curled in a sneer. “You got that right. No more pussyfooting around it. Once New Arcadia is off the map, we’re seizing this pathetic excuse for a country outright! Anyone who doesn’t like it?”

  The bunker flashed with a fresh plasma stream and a choked off scream as a panicked-looking council member who had just pulled free his crossbow was shot in the head.

  “Can die just like that fool who thought he could stop progress!”

  Evelyn Death coolly turned to her second. “Do mark that former Administrators Chelton and Smith as having fully redeemed themselves. Their families’ honor will remain unstained. Their clans will avoid the pain vats.”

  “At once, Your Grace.” Hroka wheezed, clearly fighting his own growing panic as trembling fingers typed furiously on his own tablet.

  Elonia’s eyes were filled with growing dismay. “Eric! Please!”

  Eric silently howled in furious dismay, roaring as he thrashed and struggled with superhuman fury, his body all but boiling with furious roiling power… and he was utterly unable to move. His limbs literally bound to the earth by chains of blood and bone.

  The chains of that which connected him so strongly to his home, the world of his birth.

  Why his mother had birthed him here in the first place.

  Ties of kinship, blood, and most of all… necromancy.

  Over three million revenants now weighed him down.

  Ties he would now never escape.

  At least not in the time it would take a Hyperion missile to strike New Arcadia, their foes too stupid to realize that there was no going back from this. If the missile didn’t unleash a cataclysmic chain reaction that would tear apart their already hyper-strained continent… then they would suffer the most hideous sentence imaginable. Because sure as shit, Admira Reiza would be sharing Bunbun’s recording far and wide, and getting in good with both Inquisitors and Imperial family.

  Eric, Arcadia, and perhaps the entire continent’s doom was now all but assured, thanks to a final twisted card of folly and an ICBM of such shocking ferocity, catalyzed as a final act of spite from a spirit that was now no more, only tainted memory and final discordant notes playing a dirge that could crush their entire world.

  “Eric! They’re thousands of miles distant and I can’t break whatever curse has bound you! We’re fucked!” Bunbun screamed in silent despair, no matter that Battletime had accelerated his Perception and thought processes to match Eric’s Quickness.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Over 150 times the human norm.

  Yet compared to the empress…

  He was still slow as fuck.

  As was made abundantly clear when she was suddenly before him, even as the rest of Arcadia’s palace had frozen like statues to Eric’s Perception.

  “What will you do now, Disciple?”

  Eric’s thoughts raced, choking back a scream.

  “Those fucking idiots don’t even realize—” His words cut off when a dusky finger pressed against his lip. Filled with the chilly promise of oblivion… and the warmth of passion’s bliss.

  “You’re no fool, Eric. You already know what you need to do. And with the slightest of pushes… the gentlest of alterations… you can do just that.”

  Eric blinked… and instantly he understood.

  Screaming panic instantly transformed to a fierce, desperate hope.

  “It’s not just a projection. I can feel the thrum of twisted arts through the chains of blood binding me. Blood… and my gifts!

  Eve beamed in warm approval. “My dear disciple is the farthest thing from a fool.”

  Eric’s hair stood on end, already knowing what he had to do.

  “I’m going to end those treacherous fucks.”

  “Of course you are.”

  Yet Eric was no fool. He could feel the limits of his present form, shockingly powerful as it was. He understood such, just as he did Eve’s perilous promise.

  “I can break free. It’s not impossible. But there’s a catch. Isn’t there?”

  Evelyn Death flashed Eric the smile of a mother who knew amputation was the only answer.

  “You noted the world rift over the mercantile jewel of your sister’s newly forged empire, did you not?”

  Eric’s guts roiled. “Yes. I did.” He swallowed, forcing himself to say it. “My transcendent attacks. Are they truly imperiling my world?”

  To his surprise and immense relief, her reassuring laughter washed over him. “Not at all, my dear ever-evolving disciple. Your Transcendent attacks are truly fascinating to witness as they warp screaming reality, twisting it to your will. Furthermore, with Conceptio’s most recent tweaking of your DNA, your Phoenix Flight won’t even awaken higher order abominations that could obliterate anyone below Gold. Which will be very useful, considering the ICBM less now than two minutes from crashing through your sister’s palace and absolutely obliterating the tens of millions of faeries you brought back from the dead. No, Eric. That part of your gift is safe.”

  Eric gave a shuddering breath. “Good, I was—” He froze. Heart pounding even in frozen time as he turned to gaze upon the pitiless countenance of his smiling one-time lover… at least in one dream that might have been.

  An empress so shockingly powerful that she could obliterate him in the blink of an eye.

  “Fuck.”

  “Indeed.”

  Eric forced himself to say it. “It’s my multi-million army of hyper-evolved undead revenants that managed to put down an ascending Gold-tier demon. I went from insignificant no one to an interesting curiosity to a threat that the imperial family sure as hell doesn’t want in their backyard. No matter how much might I adore my mentor,” he said the last with a painfully weak smile, screaming in his own mind at thoughts he should KEEP TO HIMSELF!

  Like there was any chance of that, with those soft, amber brown eyes compelling such ugly truths and suspicions from him in the hyperspeak conversation that was occurring between them in the literal blink of an eye.

  When she could have just settled for his heart.

  Her smile was surprisingly gentle, a finger that could have shredded his throat instead brushing his cheek.

  “Correct.”

  Eric swallowed. “So, with New York state about to be blown up… with me unable to even FUCKING MOVE, because somehow Malificent Bane’s twisted fate cards are tapping into my very class even after he’s dead… what now?”

  Evelyn gave him a pointed look. “It’s the weight of all those revenant souls, Eric. They’re pressing upon interdimensional cracks that would otherwise heal. Souls that make up an army the equivalent of 300 Dreadlords sworn to my service, in a war that you are the furthest thing from being fit to serve in, with such a paltry Qi Pool that a single Contender Battle would be your doom.”

  Eric flashed a bitter smile. “I know. Even if I win, I lose. I’m truly screwed.”

  Evelyn nodded. “You are. Unless you take steps. Like evolving your class.”

  Even with peril crashing down upon them, he felt an impossible hope surge in his heart. “I can evolve my class? How?”

  Eve’s smile was pitiless. “Yes, Eric. You’ve proven yourself more than ready. So many righteous kills have primed you for an evolution at Rank 80 that take most of my surviving disciples at least Rank 100 to achieve. And even that still leaves you on the razor’s edge. So I have a proposal for you, in the minutes before death obliterates every soul in this part of the world... save for your familiar and myself.”

  Eric swallowed, forcing himself to say it. “What’s the offer?”

  Her lips curved in a carmine smile. “I would offer you an opportunity for treasures and power. I would offer you access to a cultivation realm larger than all the combined planets of your solar system, filled with spiritual treasures worthy of even the most jaded Silvers, did they know where to look.”

  Eric’s heart pounded at those glorious, terrible words. Eve spoke relentlessly on.

  “I would offer you the boon of safety for your family’s territory and your clan, just as I would any Dreadlord sworn to my service,” she said the last with an intense look Bunbun’s way, much to Eric’s surprise.

  “Who, me?” Bunbun gazed at the empress in stunned shock before quickly kowtowing on top of Eric’s head.

  “Indeed. And in return for Eric surrendering his army to you and allowing you to serve under your empress, I will grant the father of your child the boon of an Ascended Class, and the secret locations to priceless Silver-Tier Spirit fruit that will adhere to the Dantians of even one so unorthodox as your master. My disciple.” Evelyn then gently brushed her finger against the now blazing runes on a stunned Bunbun’s head.

  “And I will rescue your daughter and her surviving troops, who even now are fleeing for their lives from abominations growing ever more virulent as Malice Bane’s final series of curses sends his final soul-forge world crashing into hell, attempting to drag Eric and all the final traces of his bloodline along with it.”

  Eric’s heart surged in sudden furious alarm. “No, not after all we did to save all those souls!”

  “Eric, our daughter!”

  “I know!”

  Evelyn Death’s pitiless gaze held his own. “Already safe and secure, in the massive colony ship you forged for them in dream, complete with a Hyperion Core so like the ones you sold off-market to Admiral Reiza of Tiger Fleet.”

  Before a speechless Eric could say anything to that, Eve flashed a reassuring if somewhat bloody smile. “All safe. All sixty thousand souls are in suspension pods, your daughter having evolved her class such that she can now field an entire fleet of my dreadnoughts.”

  The empress gently rubbed Bunbun’s quivering ears. “Your daughter’s on the cusp of Silver, by the way. One of the perks of fighting abominations for two solid years.”

  Bunbun gave a desperate shake of her head. “Two years? My poor baby! But it’s only been—”

  “Lest you forget, child. A Silver Phoenix was in play. And a Silver Queen risen to Gold.” She gave Eric a pointed look. “As was her son. All your daughter needs is a little extra boost to her engines, and she will have more than enough power to break free of the doom just hours away from assuring their end. Now, Eric Silver, favored disciple, what is your choice?”

  Eric swallowed, tilting his head as much as he could, pinned as he was, reassured by Bunbun’s urgent pat, knowing he had no choice at all.

  “I accept the will of the empress. My legions, and my Underlords, are yours to command.”

  In the blink of an eye, Eric’s world became one of hideous, fiery torment, as every single cell in his body began to roil with the frantic recombination of ribonucleic acids, spiritual potency, and hideous pain.

  An eyeblink from being phased out of existence entirely.

  For death was the specter faced by any and all living things that failed to evolve.

  And a howling Eric was determined to survive at all costs, no matter that his soul surged against a veritable monsoon of furious crimson currents so eager to wash him away.

  Pressures which forced his body and soul to grow ever more aerodynamic against Malificent’s Chains of Oblivion, ever more efficient in their struggles, leaving biological roadblocks, detrimental mutations, and the bitter folly of mischance and a sire’s hate far behind.

  Even if it meant surrendering traits that had once been so damned useful. So vital.

  Once upon a time.

  You have shorn yourself free of multiple negative biological traits!

  You have SUCCESSFULLY SURRENDERED over 3.2 MILLION revenants tied to your Master Necromancer Class!

  You have successfully FREED yourself of the chains of Blood, Earth, and Bone tying you to your sire’s FINAL DOOM!

  It was that final message, as much as the reforging of all his cells in one screaming heartbeat that made him want to shriek with the agony of his sacrifice…

  Yet he knew he had no choice.

  No choice at all, as a Gold-tier monster who could so easily obliterate him claimed what might have imperiled even her exalted clan.

  Claimed his legions and made them her own.

  With his blessing.

  For which he was rewarded, not with death, but with the evolution of his racial class.

  A class she herself had bestowed, tied so deeply to his understanding of cultivation.

  To her understanding of evolution.

  A class he could now evolve through all the ranks of Bronze.

  Congratulations!

  Death’s Disciple has EVOLVED!

  You are now a Rank 0 Elite Disciple (Eve’s Chosen)!

  This BRONZE TIER racial evolution now earns 5-fold baseline attribute boons (75 total), perfectly matching the path favored by monsters, spirit beasts, and other predators that devour their kills for power, just like you!

  Each evolved racial rank earns you +15 Strength, + 15 Vitality, +15 Quickness, +5 Finesse, +5 Perception & + 20 Spiritual Energy – that will be further enhanced by all applicable attribute boon modifiers!

  Your racial evolution follows the Predation Paradigm!.

  Prove yourself in the crucible of combat! Hunt challenging and unique competitors and prey! Master your weaknesses, understand your foe’s strengths, and make them your own!

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  1. Let your prospective neighbors know the importance of boundaries. – And if your new neighbors happen to be power-armored mercenaries eager to do renovations on your home, make them an offer they can’t refuse. – Like being raised from the dead to serve in your eternal army!

  2. Neighborhood Watch is mandatory. – And nothing says neighborhood watch like a 500-strong pack of enchanted velociraptors that will eat absolutely anything and anyone to clear out the riffraff!

  3. Don’t be afraid to do your part to renovate your neighborhood. – Or renovate that annoying goblin barrister with a perforated brain-case!

  4. If all else fails, and your neighbors refuse to do their part for the community… CONSIGN THEM TO OBLIVION and REFORGE the ENTIRE STATE into a mystical faerie realm filled with MILLIONS of reborn elves EAGER to do their part, including proper home maintenance and paying their taxes!

  Eric had to admit that playing the role of an avenging angel by his mother’s side had been a hell of a lot more fun than the last movie he had starred in.

  , and it meant coming back to Earth as a shivering half-naked survivor surrounded by desperate refugees and his interface screaming with alarms, warnings, and cries for help from all the factions he actually cared about.

  Eric, on the other hand, was armed with indestructible blue jeans, a sword, and a bitter fury that grew all the hotter, the more his foes threatened the world he loved.

  A reckoning was coming, and before it was through, Eric would be wading in rivers of blood.

  Before embracing the darkest of arts, and forcing his fallen foes to serve him for all time!