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Ch226-Comes Around
🕑 Added 2022-06-08 00:06:49 +0000 UTC-
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Ch226-Comes Around
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Sylver only had one chance.
At least, that was what his gut told him.
Aurick, formerly known as Nameless, was 2 and a half steps away from Sylver.
And luckily for Sylver, the boy was just that, a boy.
He was inexperienced.
Everything in Sylver’s body language conveyed that he was reaching for a handshake. From his warm and polite smile to the angle of his shoulders, to the way he turned his hip, all Sylver wanted was to shake the boy’s hand.
The trick to this specific move was eye contact, inexperience, and trust.
And a fair bit of luck.
But mostly the first 3 things.
It would have been better if Sylver hadn’t shoved the door open, but he couldn’t change the past, and if Aurick’s confused but unafraid, face was anything to go by, he still didn’t see Sylver as an enemy. The small child cradled in Sylver’s arm might have helped with that perception.
Even as Sylver’s hand just missed Aurick’s, the boy didn’t notice, and simply moved his hand upwards to catch Sylver’s.
Sylver maintained eye contact, as his hand finished being raised, and it was only when he felt the subtle warmth of Aurick’s neck, did he finally allow his eyes to leave Aurick’s.
It was a simple move, as far as moves go.
While pretending to reach for a handshake, reach higher, and grab the person by their exposed throat. Aurick was dressed in a white shirt, that was far too large for him, like a child wearing his father’s clothing. There wasn’t anything to stop Sylver’s hand from making direct contact with his throat.
As Sylver’s hand began to close, Aurick’s eyes widened in shock, as did Sylver’s.
In Aurick’s case, it was because he realized that Sylver was about to grab his neck, whereas Sylver was shocked because he couldn’t grab Aurick’s neck.
It was as if there was a repelling force, countering every joule of force Sylver attempted to exert on the boy’s neck.
They just stood there for a few seconds, staring at one another in utter disbelief.
By the time Aurick snapped out of it, Sylver was moments away from snapping the tendons in his fingers from trying to crush the boy’s neck.
But despite his immense toughness, when Aurick reached up to pull Sylver’s hand away, Sylver barely felt it. Between the strength his body naturally possessed, aided by Sylver constantly saturating his flesh with mana, Aurick’s attempt to move Sylver’s hand away felt as if it was being done by a small child.
Just as Ria’s tendril reached the book, Sylver’s eyes widened once again as it dawned on him what was going on.
Aurick turned away from Sylver and saw that the previously open, and floating, book, was now being forced closed, and Ria was trying to pull it towards Sylver. Aurick had turned because the book was making a faint, but unmistakable, whooshing noise.
As if a distant whistling gale was subsiding.
A sound came out of Aurick’s mouth, but it wasn’t a word, it was more like someone trying to fit a whole sentence into a single syllable. The boy turned around unimpeded as if a gauntlet-wearing hand wasn’t trying to strangle him.
Uncertain as to how to deal with this specific issue, which was now reaching for Ria’s tendril to presumably pull it away from the book, Sylver turned his body sideways, and with all the force he could muster, threw Aurick into the air, away from the wooden shack.
It’s hard to describe how it felt to throw a person who was moving around, while at the same time being harder than anything Sylver had ever touched. Aurick didn’t scream, he only had enough time to gasp, as he saw Sylver’s form becoming increasingly distant with every passing second.
While Ria worked on closing the whistling book, Sylver ran over to the three unconscious bodies on the floor and summoned his ax into his hand.
Mid swing Sylver realized he was about to make a 2-year-old child witness something children shouldn’t see.
Sylver just barely managed to turn his body, so the boy didn’t see what happened when a razor-sharp ax, handled by an experienced necromancer, reached its destination.
Sylver had hacked open enough human skulls that he knew the sound by heart, and the sound his ax made, wasn’t the sound of Owl’s head beings split open.
It sounded eerily similar to the sound a man’s bones made when he caught an ax’s blade with his bare hands.
Hand, in this case, singular.
Sylver looked down and saw 3 pairs of unnaturally red eyes staring up at him, and then saw that Lion’s hand had blocked the ax from splitting Owl’s face down the middle. Sylver dared a glance towards Ria, who was gradually pulling her liquid gold away from Sylver, towards the floating book.
“Take however much you need, just close it!” Sylver shouted at the slightly frightened metal golem.
Sylver’s shouting caused a chain reaction, as the boy in his left hand started to scream, then Lion, Owl, and Hound started to scream, and as Ria removed her Ki negating threads from Sylver’s legs, he started to scream.
There isn’t a way to describe the “pain” undead feel when someone attacks them with holy magic or holy Ki in this case.
Even saying “it’s the worst pain imaginable, multiplied by 100,” doesn’t quite describe it. Holy magic doesn’t attack the soul, at least not in a way that would fall into the realm of “soul magic,” but what holy magic does is attempt to force the dead creature’s dead soul into a living state.
Describing the resulting feeling as “pain,” is the equivalent of comparing a campfire to an erupting volcano.
Granted, pain is subjective, and what is debilitating to some, is but a flesh wound to another, but as a rule of thumb, if you ever want to make an undead creature back the fuck off, blasting it with holy magic works 99.99% of the time.
Thankfully, Sylver had been around for a while, and during his lengthy time in this realm, he had had the displeasure of being captured by various churches, temples, cults, and other holy magic wielding groups.
To make a series of extremely long and gruesome stories short, Sylver’s pain tolerance, when it came to holy energy, was much higher than the average undead’s.
Was he was screaming so hard his throat was bleeding? Yes.
Would he have pissed himself if he still had a bladder? Probably yes.
But regardless of everything else, he remained upright and standing.
Sylver didn’t hear the sound the book made as Ria completely engulfed it, he didn’t even hear the sound his ax made as Lion’s hand went limp, and even when Ria returned to him, and covered up his legs, it took Sylver a couple of seconds to compose himself.
With tears flowing freely, and a disgusting amount of bloodied vomit soaking into the front of Sylver’s robe, he used the doorframe to maintain his balance, and then proceeded to stagger towards the edge of the barrier. If he collapsed here, he wasn’t sure if Ria would be able to drag him out.
Relative to Sylver’s current position, the “entrance” was quite literally on the opposite side of the circular bubble-shaped Ki barrier he was in.
Sylver’s understanding of Ki barriers wasn’t perfect, he knew if you hit them hard enough they shattered, but he hadn’t been interested in the specifics.
Did he regret not learning more about them?
No.
Because in the past, the rare time he had to get through a Ki barrier, he had more than enough firepower to brute force his way inside.
Did he regret it now?
Also no.
The best way to describe what Ria did, is to imagine an electrified fence. Ria acted like an insulted pair of gloves, Sylver simply pulled the charged wires apart, stepped through the gap he created, without touching either wire and then allowed the wire to snap back into place once he was on the other side.
The only issue was that the 2-year-old terrified child in Sylver’s hand protested being covered in liquid gold metal, but he was a child, even Ria was strong enough to stop him from struggling for the 2 seconds Sylver needed to jump through the barrier.
Once he was on the other side, Spring materialized next to Sylver and took the screaming kid out of his hands, as Sylver collapsed to the floor.
“Get back to the sect, tell Michael everyone is to guard you with their life and stay close to Mora until I come back!” Sylver ordered as Ria tried to get a word in, but before she could say anything, Sylver vomited an obscene amount of purple-colored blood onto the stone floor.
“Now!” Sylver shouted as the gelatinous ooze on the floor flicked with light for a moment.
Sylver turned onto his side and watched as Spring rode away on Ulvic, with a crying 2-year-old in one hand, and a balloon-shaped staff in the other.
Once they were out of sight, Sylver laid on his back, and with purple tinged froth leaking out of the corners of his mouth, stopped moving.
***
Aurick took his sweet time. Sylver’s blood had already dried and had glued his hair to the ground. Sylver’s plan was-
[A skill similar to [Appraisal] has been used!]
“Give it back, or you’ll regret it,” Aurick said in an infuriatingly relaxed tone.
Very slowly Sylver shifted his [Lesser Perception] towards the boy and was surprised to see that he was grinning.
The suns were high in the sky, and Sylver’s pale forehead and nose were getting dangerously close to turning red from sunburn. He didn’t want to risk using magic, in case Aurick could see it through the Ki barrier.
Aurick was sitting on top of the Green Lion sect’s wall. It was barely tall enough to reach Sylver’s chest at his full height, and due to his near delirious state, he barely remembered climbing over it. Aurick was inside the holy energy-infused Ki barrier, about 10 steps away.
“I may be young, but I wasn’t born yesterday. I’ll talk if you want to talk, but I am more than happy to just wait,” Aurick said.
Sylver couldn’t really remember what the boy sounded like when they last met. But he was fairly certain the boy hadn’t had so much fearless confidence back then.
His invulnerability probably helped with that.
Sylver didn’t know how Aurick made himself invulnerable, but he could make an educated guess as to where the power had come from.
Except, Aurick’s invulnerability wasn’t the same as Anastasia’s. Or at least it didn’t feel the same.
Anastasia’s invulnerability was a part of her until Sylver tried to crush it, her hand felt like any other human hand. Her skin felt like skin, even her hair felt like hair, if he met her under more normal circumstances, he likely wouldn’t have noticed the fact that she was invulnerable.
But with Aurick’s invulnerability, there was a foreignness to it.
If Anastasia’s felt like it was inside her skin, Aurick’s felt as if he was wearing something over his skin.
“Alright, I guess we’re just waiting then. You down there, cooking under the sun, and me up here, in the comfortable shade,” Aurick said, and to add insult to injury, a fly landed on the tip of Sylver’s nose.
Sylver wasn’t sure what his plan was, other than baiting Aurick to come outside.
He considered finding a poor person and bribing them to bring the invulnerable, but physically weak, boy out to him. But Sylver didn’t have all that much jade with him, and somehow doubted Aurick wouldn’t just pick up a knife to defend himself.
Sylver smiled to himself as he imagined catching Aurick with a lasso, and then dragging him out. Sadly, without Ria’s assistance, Sylver couldn’t get through the Ki barrier, and Sylver wanted Ria to stay as far away from Aurick as possible, for as long as possible.
He wasn’t sure if her metal would be enough to block the book, so he didn’t want the living part of her to separate from the portion keeping the book contained.
“Since you seem to know my name, it’s quite rude not to introduce yourself,” Aurick said.
The first rule of being “more than happy to just wait,” is to not say anything.
Unless Aurick didn’t have the patience to sit quietly and wait for Sylver to stop pretending to be unconscious. That was a very real possibility.
Also, unless Sylver misheard him the boy didn’t know who Sylver was.
Sure, it had been almost 5 years since they had last seen each other, from Aurick’s point of view, but just how many black-eyed albinos has this kid met that he forgot who Sylver was.
He summoned a fucking demon in front of him, and he didn’t even remember Sylver’s name?
Unless Aurick was purposely fucking with him.
Was he stalling?
Then why would he show himself? If Owl, Lion, and Hound were moments away from waking up, why would Aurick be anywhere near Sylver? Even if he knew Sylver’s only way of getting to him was Ria, what was he hoping to gain?
“You look like a Juzhu. Or a Xhobiax. Actually, you probably have at least a couple of apostrophes in your name, Ag’shcol Nhuz’qid?” Aurick guessed.
To Aurick’s credit, Sylver almost stood up to cuss at him.
Any time a lich had a name that sounded like a child’s attempt at demon tongue, the undead in question was born during the “Undead Millennium.”
The Undead Millennium is a hypothetical period of 1,000 years, during which, for some fucking reason, the vast majority of liches were created.
Sylver didn’t know how, he most certainly didn’t know why, but both from personal experience, and Ibis records, most liches were the same age.
Now, technically, the liches in question weren’t really “liches.” In Sylver’s eyes, to be considered a lich, someone had to perform a ritual to bind their soul to a physical object.
And “liches” that skipped that step, or had the ritual done for or to them, weren’t real liches.
For the most part, all the liches that were born during the Undead Millennium very clearly hadn’t actually performed the ritual. The ritual left… scars, for lack of a better word, even if it’s performed perfectly, some damage is plain and simple unavoidable.
And yet all but one of the liches Sylver had killed and autopsied, that were from the Undead Millennium, didn’t have any signs of having performed the ritual.
The popular theory, or at least the theory Sylver believed to be most likely, was that demons were responsible.
Why did Sylver believe that?
Because “Juzhu,” means “retard” in demon tongue. “Xhobiax” is a demonic euphemism for a man with a crooked manhood, and “Ag’shcol Nhuz’qid,” can be translated to mean “drinker of piss.”
Of course, it is possible this is all mere coincidence.
Despite Sylver’s insistence of the opposite, there was a relatively large, ish, overlap between dark magic, and demons. There’s a chance that during those 1,000 years the demons decided to plant undead seeds in the ground, and traded phylacteries for the lich’s name.
Aside from having names that translated to demonic swear words, the other common factor all the liches born during the Undead Millennium shared, was that they were all feral.
Every. Single. One.
Maybe 1 in 10 retained enough sanity to research something, but the vast majority just floated around in their underground tomb, waiting for some mining group to uncover them. Then the lich broke out, brought the mining group back as undead minions, and eventually caused enough damage that the Ibis got wind of it, and Sylver was sent to handle it.
These “liches” had no long-term plan, no goal, they killed everything in their path, and that’s all they did. They were barely better than animals, or monsters, even the ones that could “talk,” always spoke utter nonsense. Their “threats” were just echoes of intelligence bouncing around in their empty cracked skulls.
But it wasn’t the difference in quantity that created the stereotype if it can be called that.
It was the fact that real liches had the good sense to take their time. They didn’t just randomly appear in the middle of a mining operation; they enchanted their cave to open once the time was right.
Once a child with a specific mixture of bloodlines is born, once the stars are in alignment, once a hated enemy died, real liches moved with purpose.
Comparing a real lich, such as Sylver, to those bloodthirsty, barely undead, “liches,” is the equivalent of comparing an educated adult human to a monkey eating its own shit.
The bottom line is, Aurick struck a nerve.
A very raw nerve.
Especially since Sylver couldn’t even call himself a proper lich right now. Being reminded of the fact that he was closer to those feral pests, than he was to the likes of the Silver Lich, was pouring salt on an open wound.
And yet, despite the desire to do so, Sylver remained motionless on the ground.
Until he got a better idea, he wasn’t planning on moving.
If Lion, Hound and Owl could move, Aurick wouldn’t be sitting here, taunting Sylver.
Sylver would have likely had his head bashed in a couple of times and was then held inside the holy Ki-filled barrier until only fine ash remained.
Or they were stalling.
And Aurick sitting here, acting as if he was in a rush to get the book back, was a double bluff. It’s possible they weren’t aware of Ria’s perfect magical nullification and assumed Sylver simply had a fancy lead slime golem or something along those lines.
Or Sylver caught all 4 of them with their pants down, and they had no leverage.
Sylver only noticed it the 5th time Aurick did it. He was mostly staring at Sylver, but every now and then he glanced upward, towards the suns.
But something told Sylver Aurick wasn’t just trying to tell the time.
Truth be told, Sylver had no idea what Aurick was doing, or what he wanted. Back when he summoned a demon for the group, Owl/Bear told him they were going to make Aurick the high king, so he could save the world.
But then that raised the question, save the world from what?
Back then, Sylver just wanted the lunatics to leave him alone. Even now, if it weren’t for the book, having them just walk away would have been preferable.
Even if they nearly buried him deep underground. Sylver’s pride would be wounded if he let them live, but he’d get over it.
Come to think of it, I still don’t know if the ceiling falling down was part of Hound’s plan…
If it was, wouldn’t he say something to me? Or did they consider me so insignificant, that I wasn’t even worth a “so long sucker?”
Then there’s the 11 days of absolutely nothing happening.
“How about a trade? You answer one of my questions, and I’ll answer one of yours?” Aurick offered.
It wasn’t quite panic, he didn’t even really sound worried, but there was just a hint of discomfort in his voice.
Since Aurick was immune to magic and physical force, Sylver couldn’t exactly tell if he was lying by reading his soul, and while he was quite good at reading body language, he wasn’t willing to risk it.
More importantly, did Sylver care what Aurick’s goal was?
The boy was a certified shit stirrer, first, he found a book with a piece of demon flesh, and now he somehow got his hands on a book that could ruin everything.
Even if Aurick wasn’t a [Hero] he was as annoying and dangerous as one.
At least [Hero]s had the decency to walk around with a metaphorical giant pillar of light coming out of them. Aurick on the other hand was quiet, he scurried around like a rat, by the time you noticed the droppings on the floor, the whole house was already infested.
Sylver’s plate was already overflowing, he didn’t need a mind-controlling cherry to cause the pile to topple.
“Listen, I know you’re wide awake. All you’re doing is wasting my time,” Aurick said, as Sylver’s body continued pretending to be a corpse.
“I know you sent the girl away... Your reaction to my invincibility was too quick, you accepted it without hesitating, meaning you met someone recently, who was as invincible as I am,” Aurick explained, as Sylver just lay there.
Poisoned by holy magic.
Defenseless.
Until he came up with something better than such an obvious trap. Playing dead normally worked better when people didn’t have access to an all-knowing system, that presumably told Aurick everything there was to know about Sylver, along with the fact that he wasn’t as unconscious as he was trying to appear.
On the other hand, it wasn’t as if Sylver had anything better to do.
Aside from messing around with mushrooms.
The even bigger issue was that-
“GET OFF ME!” Aurick screamed, and Sylver almost lifted his stupid fuck head to get a better look.
One of the monks had just put Aurick in a headlock under his armpit and was in the process of grabbing Aurick’s hands. Aurick was slipping out of the monk’s grasp when a second monk appeared and did his best to wrap his arms around the young boy’s kicking legs.
Sylver watched as they grabbed him by the hem of his shirt and used it as a makeshift harness to constrict his limbs, as they gradually made their way towards the edge of the barrier.
The monks’ movements were odd, uncoordinated, and even as Aurick shoved his fingers into one of their eyes, the monk didn’t react. They weren’t even looking where they were going.
As the monks and Aurick approached the edge of the barrier, Sylver continued playing dead. He’d been fooled one too many times, to fall for such a simple trick.
But the monks didn’t stop when they reached the edge, against Aurick’s desperate struggle, they pushed him through the barrier. Aurick landed on his feet on the other side and tried to force his way back inside, but the monks were using their hands to hold him back.
One of the monks said something, or rather, tried to say something, but his voice came out wrong as if he was shouting from far away. Sylver didn’t understand the words, but as the monk lifted his head for a moment, Sylver saw that the man’s left eye was glowing with a faint flickering white light.
Silently, Sylver rose from the floor as if several strings were lifting a puppet. Aurick tried to punch his way through the wall of flesh acting as a barrier, and when that didn’t work, he jumped left, then right, in an attempt to get around the large men.
The sound Aurick made as Sylver placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder, was music to Sylver’s ears. It wasn’t a gasp, nothing as dramatic as that, just a barely audible gulp.
Because of the repelling force around his body, Aurick was slippery in a way that is impossible to put into words. But as the armor of [Necrotic Mutilation] wrapped around Sylver’s body slithered along his arms, and wrapped around Aurick’s body, the slipperiness stopped mattering.
With his robe helping him get a grip on the slippery child, Sylver looked like an octopus wrapping its tentacles around its struggling prey.
Which wasn’t struggling that much in this case. The prey went as far as to look smug.
“You caught me, so what?” Aurick’s relaxed face asked.
Instead of responding, Sylver merely pulled the boy closer to him, until their heads were almost touching. With both of them staring into the other’s eyes, the ground opened up beneath them.
Aurick broke eye contact as he and Sylver began to fall, and as funny as it would have been to watch Aurick try and stop their descent, Sylver’s [Necrotic Mutilation] tendrils, continued restricting the boy’s limbs.
They fell for what felt like a long time.
The feeling was aided by a continuous gust of wind that was causing Sylver’s hair to flutter and further aided by the rocky walls of the hole moving much faster than Sylver was actually falling. Oddly enough getting the wind right was harder than shifting the walls around.
Illusinaory bullshit aside, Sylver and Aurick really were deep down underground. Deep enough that Aurick, despite being “invincible” was failing to keep the worry out of his face.
Being unkillable is good and all, but there are times when death is preferable. Sylver knew that better than anyone.
Such as being buried deep underground. With no hope of escape.
Sylver continued “falling” up until the earth got too dense and rocky for him to effectively move it with [Advanced Earth Manipulation].
He stared at Aurick as the walls expanded, and after about a minute, Sylver and Aurick were alone in a small sealed cave. Sylver formed the mass of [Necrotic Mutilation] on the boy’s body, into a sort of harness. If he tried to run, Sylver would simply pull him back.
Not that there was anywhere to run, Sylver had closed the tunnel he made as he fell down it. If Aurick wanted to leave this place without Sylver’s help, he would have to dig through solid rock.
A small sphere of light appeared on the ceiling, as Sylver sat down on one of the two chairs present in this “room.”
“You wanted to talk. So you talk, and I’ll listen,” Sylver said, with a gesture towards the stone seat opposite him.
Aurick didn’t protest, didn’t complain, didn’t even try to bargain, he just brushed the dust off his shirt, and sat down.
“It all started with a man named Solnoshko,” Aurick said with a resigned sigh.
He dropped the name so causally, so undramatically, that it took Sylver’s mind a whole 5 seconds to remember where he had heard that name before.
Sylver felt a blood vessel in his left eye burst, and off in the far distance, Mora screamed out in an attempt to relieve at least a small portion of the frustration Sylver was feeling.
Comments
Joshua Little
Thanks for the chapter.
Max Becker
I am growing more confused, hopefully the knot will resolve soon
Zarik0
xD Things will get interesting next chapter :)
Bob
Solnoshko is mentioned in chapters 169 and 170. He is mentioned by the book. “DO NOT BELIEVE SOLNOSHKO’S LIES! DO NOT TRUST AURICK! HE IS-”
Gardor
Why not include where Sylver heard the name in that last paragraph? Why purposely obfuscate it?
The Dyslexic Cloud
Can someone who pays better attention than me remind me who this is?
WIlly Willy Wild Wild West
Goddamn, can he ever catch a break? It’ll be a year before we see eddy.
Maxx
Assuming that name is one of the ones that the book screamed when Silver destroyed it. The prophesied names he was wary of
BlackRazaras
Thanks for the chapter
