Epilogue 8: Serethion, A-rank. |
Sereth pushed the fabric of space which reluctantly parted under his fingers. He picked a heavenly body with white hair and brown eyes as soon as he was through in case he were spotted. The false core took Earth and Strength affinities, his original ones. His aspect of the mountain allowed him to barrel forward.
This portal world stank of stagnant ocean waters heavy with rotting things under a purple sky. He raced past jagged rocks and murky pools where things dwelled, things that did not have the time to react before he rushed past. Far and to his right, the sounds of battle echoed across the vast open ground, leagues and leagues away. He was on time. His domain sharpened to a spike. A sub-guardian emerged from silt to stop him, shell a cobalt blue. It looked like a mix between a knight and a lobster.
Nezhra would have demanded a food sample. But she wasn’t here. This world was A-class, one of the most dangerous ever found across the entire empire. Even the team raiding it to the side had three A-class trained to work together over centuries backed by well-trained support mages. He had no need for a team, however. The soil rose to stop a laser-like spray of water. Sereth called a wall, then projected it forward where it shattered across his foe’s unyielding armor, but the shower of mana-saturated rocks offered enough of a cover for him to slip in. His infused fist hit a shell dead center, shattering it. The knight was sent flying.
Sereth didn’t stop to finish it off. He had a task. As he ran, he built momentum. The earth shook, the ground groaned, fragilizing the entire world. The others must have felt it too. He ran over another sub-guardian.
By now, Sereth was at the fastest speed his heavenly mask could maintain. Valleys were left as shattered canyons in his wake. The rumbling silenced every other noise, even the cataclysmic shock of fully-powered spells coming from the group, now having realized an intruder had come to take their prize. Sereth’s target appeared in the distance like a grotesque mound emerging from flat ground over a carpet of birthing pools. It looked like a floating mollusk with an oversized brain.
Sereth knew how it worked. The creature’s mind was so powerful it could take control of even an A-class, turning team members against each other while it rained water spells upon them. Sereth wasn’t the most cunning hunter under the abyssar, but will, that he had aplenty. He jumped, and the mountain came with it. At the apex of his ascent, the monster’s mind slammed against his, but the mask faded and now, an Aszhii descended.
The guardian’s mind struggled to find purchase but it was so strong that its thoughts penetrated even Sereth’s impossible resistances. Waves of despair and distractions stung him with a million bites. He endured.
I am the avalanche.
No one could stop the falling mountain, not even itself. The mind twisted and gnawed; it exposed his weaknesses, his regrets, his scars, his powerlessness, his fears, his memories, the monster grasped them all to turn them against him. He saw Stibs withered and dead, toothless mouth gasping for her last breath. His children, killed in portals. His sister, executed. Nezhra, torn apart by a bomb. His friend Loken, betraying him to Agathon. The vivid sights came with the certainty of prophecies.
The avalanche.
He sharpened his domain even further. The rocks around him could bury the capital with some leftover, and yet they didn’t matter. They were but the physical manifestation of him.
Avalanche.
At the last instant, the vice on his mind relaxed as the creature hastily raised a dozen shields, each one rotating quickly, loaded with glyphs and countermeasures. Sereth channeled all of that fear and rage he’d been subjected to into strength. His armored fist hit the first shield. It exploded.
The rockfall collapsed on the monster, breaking its mind and body in the wake of Sereth’s monstrous strike. The Aszhii raider crushed through chitin and cartilage in a second, titanic blow.
Stop.
By sheer will, hundreds of thousands of tons of rock came to a rest. The corpse had to remain intact, mostly. As the monster died, power surged through Sereth’s body. His mind resistance increased, a welcome benefit. He pushed the euphoria down, ignored the triumph that invited him to face the raiding party and gloat. He was here for a purpose.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Taking a sharp knife from his storage space, Sereth went to work.
***
Count Vatiren, the heir to a ducal family, watched his clan’s livelihood cleanly dissected with an expert hand. Most of the body was intact including the core, but then, it was never what mattered. Even from here he could see the spigot planted in the creature’s spine. His wife approached it with the prepared container, opening the tap just in case any of the prize was left.
To his immense surprise, there was. A lot.
“Doesn’t look like we lost much,” his second in command commented.
He had always been a moron.
“Someone outraced us to the point we didn’t even spot them then took down a beast that takes us an hour of careful battle to take down. This is the work of a single raider, Diran, and they left the corpse in good condition. What we have lost, old friend, is our credibility.”
***
Ephemera was not the jewel of the empire. Its main wealth came from the impressive variety of portals offering exotic and often unique rewards, a treasure trove for gamblers and assessors. Some of its continents remained mostly untapped as the result of the extinction of the original species living there. Overgrown domes and collapsed walls could still be found in remote valleys, but it was not treasure that brought Sereth here today. It was those who traded it. The pavilion he had picked stood on the fringe of the capital, not far from this world’s bridge. The Head Assessor didn’t receive visitors in the afternoon which was why he had picked that time to come. People rarely said no to fourth ascension warriors, especially one of his power, and especially one with recognizable ancestry. Two assistants led him to a room of red wood and comfortable couches. He was offered tea which hadn’t had the time to cool before the robed owner hurried to greet him.
“Your Highness. Thank you for gracing us with your presence. If you have sent word forward, we did not —”
“I have not sent word forward,” Sereth replied, voice flat.
He waited for the assessor to realize this was going to be a sensitive and possibly illegal operation, one he could not hope to refuse. That was part of why he had kept his original princely appearance. His host would be forced to report the exchange for the same reason he could not refuse it.
Fear.
Naturally, the information would reach the Imperial Court where it would be carefully censored, but the old heavenly monsters would learn of it. And do nothing. His father would learn of it, also. He would understand. He would seek leverage. Sereth was counting on it.
“Ah, and how may I assist you today?”
Sereth manifested a vial of cloudy blue liquid held in a timeless container, an extremely expensive, refillable bottle designed to keep ingredients fresh for centuries. White tendrils floated in the murky substance, merging and splitting lazily. The assessor leaned forward with curiosity tinged with confusion.
“Is that…”
“I know what it is,” Sereth said.
He waited for the man to remember. Very few ingredients looked even remotely close to what he had placed on the table, and none were half as valuable.
“Megacephalodon spinal fluid,” the robed man gasped. “But…”
“I know what this is for. I am looking for a very specific dosage. You will give me this dosage. As payment, you will keep the rest of the bottle.”
Sereth’s offer did not entice the assessor and for good reasons. Every drop of the solution was accounted for and distributed in advance for the next two decades. The bottle would be reclaimed by House Vatiren, but there would be a reward. After the interrogation process.
“I will need to know the patient’s symptoms.”
“The patient is healthy, three years post-partum, two and a half lev in weight, slightly under half of her native species life expectancy.”
“This is hardly relevant, your highness.”
“And unawakened. Inert, to be precise.”
The assessor shook, lips trembling as a flow of half-muttered objections escaped his mind.
“Inert? Not even channels? But… surely… you would waste the Water of Life on an unawa—”
The assessor slammed back in his chair with a quiet whine, like a kettle brought to a boil. Sereth slowly forced every finger of his hands to uncurl from the furrows he’d just dug into his chair’s savaged arms. He breathed, once, twice, and the pressure returned to acceptable levels. Behind the door, someone gulped air in relief.
“I apologize,” the assessor sobbed.
“Apologies accepted. It remains a… sore topic for me.”
“Of course. Of course. I, uhm, I will need a few notes. This is a rather unusual request.”
He reached for a ring. An instant later, a young woman in similar robes opened the door. Her eyes would not meet theirs.
“My lords?”
“Kateria, a notebook pen and, hmm, Andric’s exotic components volume 9, if you please. From the library.”
“Of course, my lords.”
“And do hurry.”
Sereth sipped some tea while the girl took off at a dead sprint. It was acceptable. All the required pieces were brought back in record time, following which the answer was not long to come.
“One drop diluted in 12.73 imperial quarts worth of distilled water. I can…”
“No need.”
Sereth manifested all he needed from his storage space. A single droplet was carefully lifted from the vial, then he filled a magically isolated barrel with the exact amount to the milliliter. Only after the thing was carefully dissolved and the assessor assured him it would work did he breathe in relief. He had no doubt the man had told him the truth. Healers like him would not hurt others on purpose.
“A single drop will be enough, for, well, her entire lifespan.”
“Excellent.”
Sereth went to stand up, but the assessor still had something to say.
“My lord, I…”
He gulped his nervousness.
“It will not extend her life beyond its natural course. It will just make her… comfortable, and healthier for the duration. But it will not save her.”
“I know,” Sereth said.
He stood. The healer averted his gaze.
“I know.”