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Chapter 122 - TFF
🕑 Added 2024-02-11 14:12:21 +0000 UTCIt was a gruesome affair, but Alan found himself unable to look away. It went on for a few minutes before the man stopped thrashing around and took his last breath. Kalyntha frowned at that.
“It felt as if his mind was protected. All I gathered was that he had to kill you, Ziri.”
Zirida nodded. She was mostly fine now, after chugging a few more potions a casting some strange form of blood magic that made her blood tear her own skin and flesh from the inside out and restructure it. Alan was very interested in something like that, but he had too much to deal with as it was.
“Nothing to do than to go ahead with the raid. Whatever answers there are to be found, we might find them.”
“It’s a plot,” Alan said. “Why else would you be getting assassins after you? Is there anything you can do that no one else can?”
“Sense sisters. Sense blood magic,” a small voice said from the side making Alan turn, ready to fight. Solorim stood there, grim and skinny. He looked the same as Alan remembered him. He was probably cleared of any suspicion since he was here.
Zirida nodded at that. “I can feel other members of my order if I’m close enough. But all are dead, except for one that is missing…” she frowned. “Could that be it? She’s a nobody though. No family, no connections.”
“Could she be a traitor?” Alan asked.
“No.” Zirida didn’t elaborate but her answer was enough. The sheer conviction in the single syllable was enough for everyone. Alan was sure this had nothing to do with naïve trust. There were reasons she couldn’t be a traitor.
For some reason, his mind flashed back to his time with Florence, eliciting painful memories. Painful mostly because he had allowed himself to be brainwashed. He frowned.
“Could she be manipulated? Used? Threatened?”
Zirida hesitated. “Yes, to all of those. If we voluntarily betray our sisters we will suffer a backlash that is nothing a few potions can deal with. But… mind mages are rare, mostly because no one accepts them and almost everyone has protections against them. It’s only natural.”
Alan nodded. It made sense. If one knew they were living in a world where people could fuck with their minds, finding ways to prevent that would be on top of the list of things to do. Kalyntha’s weird memory extraction skill, as bad as it had worked so far, was bordering on that but at least it killed the target in the process. Alan considered that more ‘humane’ than what Florence had been doing.
“That doesn’t mean it can’t happen. That begs the question, what can you and your sisters do that is very, very valuable?”
Kalyntha giggled and everyone turned toward her. The body was lying on the ground, forgotten. Master Wilbis’ clones were gone, without Alan noticing.
“Sorry, sorry. You’re just so cute acting like a detective,” she said.
Scary weirdo.
“What can we do that’s useful… that’s a very broad question. Depends on the situation,” Zirida frowned.
Groups of people were heading out of the gate, and the crowd slowly dispersed. The interesting part was over though. Alan didn’t know how a raid was to happen, but he hoped there would be some organization. No one would let a bunch of super powerful, high-ego, space wizards duke it out with the void monsters as they wished… right?
“We’ll figure it out on the way. You good to go, Ziri?” Kalyntha intervened.
Zirida stopped leaning on Alan and took a few steps of her own. The hole in her chest was still there, and blood was wiggling inside like worms working to fix the damage.
Alan turned his gaze away, suddenly aware of where he was staring. Apart from his cloak, she had little else on.
“Ah, shit. That giant bitch ran away!” Kalyntha suddenly cursed, her orbs flying in the air. She made a gesture and the black scale appeared in her hand again. Its sheer aura was eating away at her metal glove, but the armor regenerated just as fast.
“What’s the use for it?” Alan asked, trying to suppress the greed in his voice.
“Oh, so many uses. But it’s forbidden as fuck. Seriously, don’t think about it. I took this away for all of our sakes. Some people don’t know how dangerous it is to fuck with dragons. If a dragon shits on you, you better scoop it all up, gift wrap it, and return it to the proper authorities, or the Throne will fucking obliterate you and your family and possibly your servants and their pets.”
“That sounds evil.”
“It’s power. Those on top have learned by threading on worlds of bones that holding on to power means not allowing anyone to question you.”
There was something very wrong with that. Not that humanity hadn’t done the same. Still, humans couldn’t obliterate worlds at a whim. Alan shuddered. Considering the state of society when the apocalypse hit, things were probably going to devolve to unimaginable levels. It took one power-hungry asshole with a strong class to fuck it all even further.
“Yeah…” he simply said.
Zirida seemed well enough after another twenty minutes and summoned some clothes of her own, returning Alan’s blood-stained cloak with a smile, not before summoning all the blood away from it.
“Thanks,” the [Red Cleric] said.
“Anytime.”
Their group followed the masses to the displeasure of Kalyntha, who had suggested flying them all out so they could get most of the fighting done. Zirida had shot that down. Her eyes hadn’t stopped glowing red since they had spoken about what use her sisters could have. She was probably trying to figure out why they wanted specifically her out.
Alan didn’t think she knew or lied to them. Maybe she did, and she was just that good of an actress.
“Alright, what use is a dragon then?” he whispered when they were far away from other groups.
“Alan!” Zirida scolded.
Solorim just looked at him. The [Rune Mage] had been silently following them, without providing his opinion or thoughts on the matter. Alan thought about Wilbis’s comments on the rune work he had done with Myriad Tongues but decided to leave it for later.
A few small metal orbs started circling them and slightly trembling as they did before Kalyntha answered. She didn’t seem as opposed to talking about the topic as before.
“Dragons have insane traits, inherent skills, and bloodlines. That’s part of the reason they’re one of those on the very top. A dragon is born at tier two or early tier three, and that’s for those who are born from a world’s energy, a cataclysm, or a long-dead egg. Like the void dragon. They are purebloods and progenitors of their lines, holding unique abilities.”
“Can any of that be taken away?”
“Anything can be taken away,” Zirida chipped in.
I should pay Old Grayheart a visit after this.
“But isn’t the dragon tier three or on the verge of it? Considering no one of similar strength can safely enter this place, what could harm it?” Alan continued. He could see why someone would want to steal the dragon's abilities away. Especially if it was a unique dragon. It just seemed like an impossible task from all he had been told.
The only other explanation he could find for someone wanting to move against the dragon was to destroy the fractal by forcing the Dragon Throne’s hand. What could be gained from that? Revenge? Then what was Zirida’s place in all of this?
“Poison can be freely brought in, and so can high-grade skill scrolls. It is generally not a good idea to use the latter lest one wants to do what the dragon’s mere existence is doing to the space around. The fractal simply cannot take it.”
“So, poison the dragon, then what? Or simply disable it long enough to… harvest something from it? But then the culprit could be found easily, no?”
There was silence all around as the conversation came to a standstill. They passed by more of the already sickening hills and tunnels, but this time there was an army of them. Some guards that seemed higher ranked than Byrr and Feyrith were leading the whole procession and making sure no fights or squabbles got in the way of their purpose.
Each parasite on the way was swiftly dealt with and as they got deeper and deeper into the hills of the fractal they started running into larger parasites and shifters. Their numbers mostly forced the void monsters to run away, showing that they held some intellect. All who didn’t were ruthlessly barraged with skills and obliterated in seconds.
Soon the terrain changed and became sloping. Alan felt a stifling sensation as the mana became restless and fractured. Dark groves were hanging in the air and breaking apart the natural flow. Void fissures, Kalyntha called them. Not big enough to endanger the stability of the fractal, so the formation holding it all together left them alone as a deterrent.
The further down they went the stranger everything felt. Even though there were more than a hundred of them, give or take, an odd silence had descended. Only Kalyntha giggled from time to time, joking with people and trying to keep herself entertained.
Alan tuned her out. His bones were a bit achy. It made no sense, considering their recent reinforcement. His whole skeleton was a goddamn enchanted item. Back when he had been sick and weak on earth they would ache similarly before it rained. He very much doubted it had anything to do with rain. The brown overcast clouds seemed an infinity away from their continuously dropping position.
It was like they were following a path to hell. The monsters became a frequent occurrence and Zirida left them to help. Her insane power and control over the metal orbs let them continue unimpeded. Alan mostly stuck next to Zirida, looking around for anything out of place.
“This is it,” a voice came from the sky. Master Wilbis stood there. Or at least one of him did. Whether it was a projection or the real deal, Alan couldn’t tell.
Before them, the sloping earth seemed to cut off similarly to the battlefield he had seen. Beyond the cut floated another piece of earth, a massive ruined temple of stone and calcified trees. Its large door stood towering over them, a black gaping hole of darkness.
Alan almost doubled down as a wave of pain and nausea washed over him, but he resisted it. Slowly, as if learning to breathe, his body got used to the aura. Many of those around reacted similarly, and few even puked. No one mocked them.
It was impossible to tell how large the Temple was as most of it apart from the large door was obscured by floating debris and darkness.
“It’s a beautiful thing, isn’t it?” Master Wilbis’s voice echoed from the sky.
Alan had to agree there was a certain charm about it. Beautiful was not the word that came to mind though.
The group came to the very edge.
“Ms. Kalyntha, as the second strongest here, will you lend me a hand?” Wilbis called, then without waiting for an answer waved his hand and the nearby mountain wall exploded. Large chunks of stone floated over and started rotating, sticking to one another, becoming one. “I’m not very good at making things, you see.”
Kalyntha didn’t respond but her orbs rushed in like a swarm. Space around her shimmered and she giggled. Tens of orbs started appearing and wrapping around like liquid around the bridge Wilbis was trying to make, acting as supports.
“Does that mean if either of them falls, we will be stuck there?” Alan quietly whispered to Zirida. He was not a soldier ready to lay down his life for a goddamn dragon.
“Don’t worry. Other than the dragon itself, even Wilbis cannot threaten the current Kalyntha. Plus, I might not have used them, but I have a few treasures that can help too. Most have trump cards, believe it or not.”
Alan nodded at that. What situation would even force her to bring out her trump cards?
He briefly wondered if he should bring out Xil, but now was not the time. Not in the middle of a bunch of people with unknown classes.
Soon the large bridge was finished, and the first brave souls took a step upon it. Kalyntha recalled her orbs to the displeasure of the crowd, but the bridge stood unshaken.
Alan followed and took a step. He gazed at the vast emptiness devoid of stars or colors that stood on both sides and felt trepidation. There would be gains here. Levels, or something else, they wouldn’t be small.
