You have successfully subdued the American Administrative Counsel!
You have successfully completed the auxiliary-granted quest: Conflict Resolution! This Advanced White-Tier quest has granted you the boon of: 15 Spiritual Energy and the positive regard of your sifu, sensei, mentor, and one-time lover who is so seeks to infuse Gold-Tier Phoenix genes into her familial line… the Empress Evelyn Kahn Death Exalt! One of the very few permitted to alter System Quests and bounties who actually bothers, and at such modest and reasonable cost!
Eric knew he was in trouble as the unexpected messages flashed across his mind’s eye, the earth rumbling as if presaging the most massive of tidal waves, eager to wash all life away. Yet it was a tsunami of absolute power, roaring and ripping through his soul as the Path of Endless Bounty demanded he reap what he had so cavalierly dared to sow.
He braced himself for the nightmare he knew was about to hit, after having felt such furious, howling triumph, tearing across the heavens yet feeling nothing worse the gentlest of caresses as the blazing solar radiation caressed his near naked form. To think that he had actually dared low Earth orbit at such speeds that a single flap of flaring electromana wings was sufficient to have him roar over Michigan, Illinois, Iowa, and Nebraska before crashing right into Colorado, right outside the reinforced NORAD bunker, a massive concrete and steel underground fortress burrowed into a literal mountain. Even in his titanic fury, he had registered the panicked supersonic squeaks of not a couple handfuls but hundreds of Bronze Tier mercenaries declaring their neutrality and the severing of all ties with the AAC.
As if they had known. As if, after centuries of daring their perilous games, and without his mother’s Fate Cards twisting so many probabilities to all but assure Eric was embracing the darkest and most violent of epiphanies while forced to constantly fight for his very life... without those twisted influences, most Bronze elites were savvy enough not to pick fights with blazing titans. Because if they hadn’t been, they would have never made it as far as they had.
When he had leaped out of the crater of his impact, made simply because he had FELT LIKE IT! Taking absolutely no injury at all… the sweet rich scent of fear in the air had enticed him with the promise of crimson slaughter. Yet the look of wild-eyed terror, the sight of so many young soldiers hardly more than kids sobbing under the protective presence of several score Bronze mercenaries armed in electromana-powered mecha suits… and each and every one was on one knee, weapons and heads both prone… and Elonia was rapid-fire messaging him, making it damned clear that she was all about Bronze-Tier second chances.
So Eric hadn’t paid them any mind at all. Not even when a single stupid kid had fired in his panic, and the entire crowd of soldiers and mercs had held their breath.
Eric had only blinked long enough to register the face of the wide-eyed youth now shaking and sobbing while a half dozen Bronze mercenaries sighed and stepped back, herding the other kids close.
And how strange it was that Eric’s eyes had actually widened in recollection as he gently put the flattened bullet that he had felt as the lightest of brushes against his skin, like a friend gently tapping his neck, into the kid’s trembling hand.
“John Monty, right? You look just like your SelfTube pics. Minus the Azmon gamer vibe, I mean.”
The kid’s eyes bulged. “No fucking way.”
Eric dipped his head. “Your Exile’s Path builds were fucking ‘leet. But I could never get them to work the way Lilly could. I always ended up croaking in X-10 maps. Never got past that level. Don’t know why.”
John broke down in tears. “Please, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! I didn’t—”
Eric chuckled. “Oh yeah, that’s right. Lilly assures me it’s because I excel at fail-builds. And she’s right. In that game, at least.” Eric flashed a toothy smile. “This time around, however… yeah. No complaints. Know what I mean?”
“Please don’t hurt him! We’ll make it up to you, we promise!” Sobbed a higher-pitched voice that Eric really hadn’t wanted to let kill the mood.
So he turned around without a second look, feeling such fierce EXHILARATION when his target was finally in sight.
A furious flash and he had been right before the massive barrier so like a fallout vault door in his favorite series. Whether System enhancement or mixed intel guarding America’s most secure bunker, he supposed he’d never know.
And how he had reveled in his howling fury, so effortlessly TEARING OPEN that massive barrier of stone, concrete, and literal feet of reinforced steel.
Without using any power at all. Just raw strength and fury and suddenly he was in the barracks, facing automated gun turrets flaring, hot-eyed soldiers roaring for his surrender even as they fired at him and how he REVELED in RIPPING THROUGH THEM ALL!
SAVORING the sweet, sweet crimson droplets FEEDING him with their succulent potency as he surrendered to his fury, his WRATH, and began to feed.
He tore and shredded struggling flesh, crunching down on hot bloody screams and FEASTING upon all that dared to oppose him.
Flashing past corridors that became one glorious blur of crimson screams and sanguine rapture. Pounding fists and gnashing teeth.
And then, in the seeming blink of an eye, after DEVOURING nearly every last soul in that concrete maze, he opened the final can of victuals and dug right in.
Never having felt such hot sweet JOY! As when he glared into the eyes of Vidrig and Marge who had reveled in sacrificing 60,000 children for their own personal comfort, who had GLORIED in his agony when he had been pain-collard, who had EAGERLY awaited his death, doing everything to arrange for it...
So he felt it more than fair to return the favor, gleefully savoring their final heartbeats as the resolve of the entire command center crumpled into panicked despair.
Savored it for long hot seconds, before devouring his prey completely.
Absolutely.
Body and soul.
Torn free even from memory.
Vidrig and Marge now effectively never having existed in the first place.
A victory so complete and utter, that Eric couldn’t help but roar his triumph.
A victory so overwhelming that an entire continent’s worth of corrupt Administrators gave up all hope, forced to accept that there was absolutely no escape, no veil Eric could not pierce as more than one assassin had so thoroughly demonstrated. Their blaster fire had done absolutely nothing to him, not even with all their perks, screaming with growing panic and unleashing everything they could, right before Eric reached out to pop their skulls as casually as squeezing a ripe tomato. At which point every last surviving Administrator prostrated themselves before him.
Only then did his foes manage a blow that could so easily have killed him.
“The AAC unanimously surrenders to Eric Silver, Champion of the Sylvan Alliance!”
Eric froze, glaring at the trembling Administrator serving as spokesman who was now prostrated before him, covered in sweat, tears, and the spattered blood of his fellows.
“Our territories are yours, our people your chattel for you to do with as you will!”
“Motherfucker,” Eric snarled, before being struck by a euphoria and pain so overwhelming that he could barely scream the words that he prayed would make it go away.
CONGRATULATIONS!
Shock, awe, and the utter obliteration of so many of your enemies, because yes, sometimes you CAN eat your problems away, has resulted in the absolute capitulation of the once goblin-infiltrated American Administrative Council! The farthest thing from dispassionate or impartial, they eagerly abused their power to the absolute utmost to assure the supremacy of their masters in all things, when not doing all they could to accrue power and prestige for themselves as well as destroy your sister’s faction! All while utterly neglecting their ultimate duty, proper stewardship over a continent with so very many territories STILL in danger of ascending to black, just as their masters had intended
One consequence of this self-serving neglect was the use of contingencies and pretexts to effectively claim ten White-Tier territories that would normally be UTTERLY FORBIDDEN to them, save for the most gloriously absurd and entertainingly bizarre contortions of past precedents and once singular exceptions!
The AAC has thus been judged to be an INDEPENDENT FACTION allowed to exist to this extent for ENTERTAINMENT value (and the gathering of ever more precious DATA!)
With the surrender of their territory, all additional research value has been lost. Exception statuses have been UNIFORMLY REVOKED!
ALL former American Administrators have been STRIPPED OF ALL CLASS, RANK, and PRIVILEGE (with extreme prejudice!).
Eric howled, in too much agony to appreciate the surprised shrieks of several score corrupted classers finally paying the price for their daring, clawing at their throats as if their very souls were being summarily ripped from their bodies as their desperate wails turned to dying wheezes. Their skin dried like wrinkled parchment, once powerful physiques collapsing upon themselves as their bodies shrivel to desiccated husks.
Desperate cries became wheezing whimpers that turned to death rattles then no sound at all as stick-thin emaciated corpses were wicked of all moisture until only shriveled skin and bones remained, before cracking and bursting like mud dried to powder under a blazing hot sun that quickly blew away upon unseen etherial winds.
Then there was nothing at all, save for the dry taste of desolation and howling souls stripped of everything they had ever been or could ever be, so faint that not even Eric could have brought them back if he was doing anything save wheezing for air that just wouldn’t come even as his body was infused with such sweet sublime potency. The ultimate rush of conquest, dominion, and feeding upon the sweet victuals of an ascending world so eager to surrender her treasures to the Contender even now drinking deep of his Crimson Bounty. Until his Spiritual Energy crashed to the absolute dregs as he collapsed to his knees and wheezed, closer to death than he had ever been before.
CONGRATULATIONS, CONQUEROR! THE AAC HAS FALLEN BEFORE YOUR MIGHT!
You have slain the last of the Red Scorpions here on Terra. Your Oath of Vendetta has been fulfilled!
NO REMAINING SURVIVORS DARE TO CHALLENGE THE MIGHT OF A SILVER TITAN! (Especially with their Bronze-Tier mercenary friends screaming for them not to oppose the tides of change!)
322 Bronze-Tier mercenaries are presently offering you their sworn allegiance! (In return for knighthood and the right to claim fiefdoms in return for services rendered during Terra’s ascension! – Standard Protocol.)
YOU HAVE CLAIMED THE POTENCY OF 10 SEIZED TERRITORIES!
Territories INCLUDE the cities of Denver Colorado, Las Vegas Nevada, and San Diego California!
All former city leaders have already crumpled to dust!
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You have drunk DEEP from the crimson chalice of Endless Bounty and torn free from tormented lands an ADDITIONAL 150 Strength, 150 Vitality, and 50 Soul Reserves which have been FURTHER modified by all applicable attribute boons.
Your Strength has surpassed 3400!
CONGRATULATIONS! You are now the strongest native-born Contender upon the face of Terra!
You now earn an additional 10% bonus to all future Strength gains!
Your Vitality has surpassed 3400!
CONGRATULATIONS! Your Vitality surpasses that of ALL other sapient beings upon the face of Terra, save for Empress Evelyn Death!
You now earn an ADDITIONAL 10% to all future Vitality earned!
SYSTEM-WIDE ANNOUNCEMENT! Eric Silver is now the Top Ranked Native Contender on the Terran leaderboards with Strength and Vitality EXCEEDING 3700!!
WARNING! YOUR SPIRITUAL ENERGY HAS FALLEN TO NEGATIVE NUMBERS! You are Dy—
Evelyn Death has RETROACTIVELY modified granted quest: Conflict Resolution to Elite-Tier status which earned you 20 and not 15 Spiritual Energy, before all applicable modifiers. Since she doesn’t think she’s too good for the System (unlike her husband :( ) modification has been allowed with ZERO PENALTY!
WARNING! Your Spiritual Energy has fallen to 4 points!!!
You are presently suffering from EXTREME QI DEPLETION!
How do you wish to shape your realm?
Eric choked back a scream, feeling both as if he were drowning in torrential seas, gasping for air as howling winds whipped stinging salt down his throat, and baking alive under pitiless desert suns, wheezing for breath, dying for moisture that just wouldn’t come.
You have ten territories to shape as you will before infinite possibility becomes the parched barren lands of—CONGRATULATIONS! Faerie’s reign has grown once more!
Eric didn’t bother putting his desperate forging into words. He knew his boons would be limited, that there was indeed a price to pay for cutting off the head of the metaphoric serpent without personally cleansing the lands of all his foes and feeling its rich loamy soil beneath his toes.
More to the point, the rule-twisting Administrators that had so recently crumbled to dust, far from helping to stabilize wild territories which he now, with their defeat, could sense had something to do with their purpose… those Administrators had instead used their powers to twist and wring whatever warped concessions from Earth’s accords and violent ascension that they could for their own personal gain. No matter the price paid in erupting territories… or the corrosion of their own claimed lands.
Lands so impoverished that Eric could only grant them half the boons he normally could.
Fortunately, that was more than enough.
Enough for his Green Magic blessing to infuse those once parched and dying territories with the multifaceted bounty of fertile crops and fecund soil, the air rich with gentle currents and frequent rains, the sun rich with green magic and Wood-aligned Spiritual Energy as well. It was a magnificent boon permitted only because he had achieved such before, channeling his own body’s desperate need for rich fecund spiritual energy to nurture his own parched flesh as a call to revitalize these dying lands. It was a howling Titan’s desperate cry that broke the final barriers of resistance as desolate skies rumbled with thunder too long denied as gentle rain clouds covered thousands of square miles with rich, life-giving mist even as the air rang with the forging of thousands of miles of rail lines. Railroad tracks that had somehow always been, now connecting New Arcadia with the rest of her newly claimed kingdom.
Territories Eric had surrendered the very instant he opened the floodgates to the second boon he would grant those ten territories that had been on the cusp of eternal ruin. The blessings of New Arcadia itself now flooded the lands, turning once ruined lands into beautiful meccas of rich crops, gently rustling forests, and pristine blue lakes. The air now alive with magic and wonder and the whisper of countless adventures that would have only happy endings for the young brave souls ready to embrace Faerie’s gentlest blessings.
A gasping Eric sobbed with relief and wonder as he lurched out of the smoking ruins of the bunker he had torn through like a missile himself. One that had known only pain and fury and bitter wrath, burning so hot with the outrage of nearly losing everyone he loved… and having to sacrifice a good chunk of a hypersaturated core that he already sensed would be damned hard to refill to keep millions of lives he had already rescued once firmly in the land of the living.
A sacrifice he already knew would have been utterly beyond Malificent Bane.
His father.
Even now, he shuddered at the thought. Praying that somehow… he shook away a child’s forlorn hope. Instead, he gazed up at thick clouds saturating the lands with gentle, life-giving rains filled with such wondrous potential, washing all his bitter tears away.
Even as he gasped for breath, even as hundreds of shuddering collard Conscripts looked on with horror-filled countenances that quickly became exclamations of awed wonder… even as dozens of hard-eyed Bronze-Tier mercenaries eyeing Eric with the calculating stares of men and women measuring whether or not he was a Contender they would loyally fight beside on their endless quest for advancement and glory… or an easy mark to take out for a quick payoff.
Eric was content to gaze up at the sky, wheezing for each agonized breath even as his starving body tingled with the faintest glimmer of relief as Arcadia’s storybook blessings and wondrous boons became Colorado’s own.
The white-tier regions of Colorado, Nevada, and California as well, with a single region in Utah, the latter of no real economic significance at all. Yet in terms of spiritual significance, with enchanted rail-lines connecting the entirety of his sister’s kingdom into one contiguous whole, Eric sensed that the overall significance was profound indeed.
Because with San Francisco now resonating with the spiritual boons of Faerie the equivalent of New York… he and his sister had just forged an empire spanning the entire former United States.
From sea to shining sea.
A Faerie realm resonating with so much potential that it was effectively binding together an entire nation filled with far too many wild Red-Tier regions eager to expand all the way to Black.
Yet with the nigh indestructible bands wrapping tightly about the nation of his birth—infused as it was with both the power of desperate dreamers, living legend, and the Earth’s own furious ascension—an exhausted Eric who had just crashed to his knees, shuddering with relief as he took deliriously sweet gasps of air, dared to think that they actually had a chance.
A chance of saving this continent, at least, before the entire world blew up like a red giant star that had cooked its core.
Now they had years to stabilize their world and savor an ascension that would still be hot and fast and damned powerful… but would allow them at least a few centuries to savor its magnificent boons before it normalized.
It wouldn’t be the near millennia that other more gently ascending worlds might enjoy… but it beat the fuck out of a hot death in a handful of years that the Bloodtear goblinoid assholes under Greed (his brother!) had been doing all they could to catalyze.
The only thing sweeter than sensing the wonder of the empire he had helped to forge was sensing his sister’s ecstatic joy, her triumph, when she was infused with the System’s cheerful boons and not one but two incredibly potent titles he had deliberately passed up on.
Knowing that they would have most definitely killed him.
“Eric! We did it! From Sea to Shining Sea and Stabilize Your World! I earned both Bronze and Silver titles! All thanks to you! God, this is incredible!”
“Glad you like it, sis. I’ll be heading home just as soon as I can.”
He sensed her euphoria turn to dismay.
“Eric. Your hurting bad! Oh god… Your Spiritual Energy is now just 4! And with your other attributes so fucking monstrously high…”
“Yup. It hurts like a bitch. I feel like I’m drowning and gasping for air, while simultaneously baking in a blazing hot desert, dying of thirst. Like a cultivator with a broken whatever who failed to ascend. Or something like that, I guess.”
“Look at that fucker. He’s gasping for breath, wearing nothing but torn bluejeans spattered with mud. So why the hell aren’t we taking him out again?”
“Shut the fuck up, kid. You have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”
Eric ignored the hotly whispered byplay between veteran and desperate youth eager for advancement. To be anything more than them collard Carolina slave he still technically was.
Eric took another cleansing breath and slowly opened his eyes, locking gazes with the suddenly blanching kid who couldn’t have been older than sixteen… and smiled.
The youth fell to his knees, his bluejeans now spattered with rain and mud, much like Eric’s own, sobbing in mortal terror as the power-armored mercenaries raised their hands and slowly backed away, their message clear.
“Please don’t kill me. Please don’t—”
The boy’s words were cut off when Eric snapped his bloody fingers.
Blood leaking from wounds that no earthly force could inflict, lest he willed it.
And with the echo of that snap, every single slave collar within his sister’s territory froze to bitter ice and exploded.
Harming not a single soul.
For ice knew its master, and Eric and his twin both wanted happy endings for the humans that would embrace Faerie’s tale.
Over a hundred former soldiers and mercenaries that had been guarding the metaphoric heart of a corrupt administrative faction until just minutes ago stared in stupefied awe, not daring to say a word… before first one then dozens of local Conscripts broke down into tears or howled with relief and glee.
“We’re free! We’re finally free!”
“That’s right, kid,” A nearby merc said with surprising gentleness. “That which our contracts forbid… that which we don’t dare fuck with, even if we could, lest we trigger those goblinoid spring traps by trying to pop those locks... well, shit like that’s nothing for a Terran Contender blazing far hotter than any Bronze I ever worked under.”
This earned a snort. “Bronze, Johan? Kid reads as Silver on my scanner, and not a half-step either.”
“But wait, Eric! Aren’t you a cultivator?”
Eric snorted aloud, ignoring all the intent stares locked on him as he slowly stumbled out of the NORAD compound.
And not a single soul dared to get in his way.
“What I am is a joke, sis. I mean, yes. I cleared my meridians once upon a time with a book claimed from goblins who pulled a fast-one with an actual genuine untainted item as part of a long con. A tome that itself was linked to the Feng Ren sect who consider themselves independent of the System. But the entire way it was set up, even the sect’s leveling methodology perfectly mirroring the System’s level 1-100 to get to Bronze progression… yeah. I think they were a hybrid cultivating faction and didn’t even know it. And I only got to Rank 12 the way I think I’m supposed to, before backdooring another 8 levels by basically tattooing my arms with blood runes mirroring the channels a real cultivator might take months or years to forge. Then I stopped.”
He swallowed, enjoying the feel of his feet squishing mud in a puddle as he lifted his head once more to feel the nurturing rain sooth just a tiny bit of the ache throbbing through his entire body.
“Then I became Evelyn Death’s disciple.”
He could sense the jolt of dismay and fear in his sister’s psyche, that alone snapping him free of his exhausted daze. “Elonia?”
“Evelyn Death Exalt. The empress. The woman gazing at me right now with that fucking too-knowing gaze of hers, reminding me so damn much of…”
Eric smirked, chuckling in the rain. “Yeah… she does have that same knowing smile and piercing stare of our mother. But since Aurelia’s already ascended and Eve’s stuck around…”
“The empress taught you how to cultivate?”
Eric slowly shook his head as lightning flashed, his sister easily sensing it, even nearly 1500 miles away. “No. I mean, I thought it was cultivation, at first. She taught me to evolve.”
“Wait… seriously?”
Eric nodded, forcing his exhausted plod to turn into a fast walk as he heard the cheerful whistle of a Flying Dutchman racing along tracks just over the hill before them… and there it was. He couldn’t help smiling at the sight of a train already filled with young men and women eager to start their lives on the other side of the Continent. He could only imagine that System messages or faerie intervention was involved. Or perhaps they were lost souls who had only just awoken from memories of torment to begin their second lives as young adventurers excited to see what wonders and secrets the delves of Ashland had in store for them. Or perhaps start fresh lives as farmers, and maybe find their heart’s desire in New Arcadia’s countless bucolic farming villages, so filled with the life, laughter, and love that so many people quietly ached to have in their own lives.
In truth, Eric had no idea. Yet he still sensed Elonia’s subtle hand, and he could only hope that their life’s tales would be sweet.
“Yup, seriously, Sis. I thought I actually had a free pass, and could cultivate and channel my Qi-based attacks while embracing necromancy and every other art at my disposal. Turns out, I had simply evolved into someone who blazes so hot with essences of Fire and Dominion over my own body that even all the black tar that I’m pretty sure would utterly clog my meridians if I were anyone else, still flows like white-hot pressurized plasma through all my channels. Such that I can actually use my Qi attacks. Just like an actual cultivator. So I fooled myself into thinking that everything was okay. That I was ascending as a cultivator, not effectively evolving and growing like a Spirit Beast, which was stupid. Because we all know that I’m a ravenous motherfucker who doesn’t cultivate for shit. All I do is slaughter and grow from my kills. Just like every monster or spirit beast ever.”
Eric blinked when another mental voice politely knocked on their twin-speak.
“High guys! Sorry to interrupt your convo, but Eve said if you wanna get off your self-pitying ass and actually have a chance of surviving the next week, let alone make something of your broken self, you really, really want to get to the Freetown jump gate in fifteen minutes. Can you cross the country that fast? Ooh, look at you go, Speed Racer!”