BlueShear
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Chapter 82
🕑 Added 2024-11-06 04:37:39 +0000 UTCAs G. Jun gently rocked with the steady beat of the griffin's wings, he pondered idly on the nature of monarchs.
Their strengths. Their weaknesses. And what set them apart as uniquely formidable entities.
There was a baseline physicality to consider, certainly. Rarely did they come up against a monarch whose base strength couldn’t be described as titanic or greater. Though, even that wasn’t necessarily the deciding factor when defining a monarch.
In fact, he could think of one such entity that completely ignored the usual conventions and was no less deadly because of it.
[Cursed Soul Alchemist (Monarch Class | S Grade Rift Spawn)]
Abilities:
Nightmare Aura, Cursed Soul Extraction, Curse Manipulation, Curse Infusion, Soul Sight, Cursed Healing, Curse Transference, Cursed Domain, Soul Shell Expansion, Soul Body Transference.
Weaknesses:
???
Gifted with the ability to corrupt and manipulate souls, physically, the cursed soul alchemist had actually been rather weak. No overwhelming base line strength, nor any boosting abilities to speak of. Instead, she’d demonstrated uncanny levels of control, often splitting her attention between dozens of simultaneous actions at once, while still retaining enough focus to evade incoming attacks.
That, in conjunction with her ability to heal by consuming curse energy, the fact that her entire domain was effectively drenched in curse energy, and the ability to transfer and swap around curses on the fly—something he had to imagine was really quite difficult—and she’d made for one of the strongest opponents he’d faced thus far.
Cutting and evading effectively while the very air was bogged down with palpable spite and resentment? It’d been hard enough to maintain a cool head, let alone keep the powerful monarch in check. As far as he knew, the curses she’d used had come in three forms.
The emotional, the physical, and the supernatural.
The emotional had been the easiest to combat.
Well… just as soon as he realized it was affecting him, that is. Hard to fight something you didn’t even know existed. As his mood began to fluctuate wildly, however, his mental state to dance to the alchemist’s tune, he’d been quick to shut that down almost immediately. Flooding his body with cutting aura, and the apathy that came with it.
Emotional curses were ephemeral things, often represented as ghostly figures, ever shifting and unstable. Very similar to the wraiths they’d faced in the Impregnable Bastion, actually.
Meanwhile, physical curses needed a vessel to operate in, warping the item in question to a fairly binary purpose. Curses were a very one-track existence after all. For example, one cursed tome in particular managed to draw him into its pages, a children’s fairy tale book, where each character was unethical, the setting was layered in filth, and every moral of the story was uniquely corrupt.
The pages only seeing fit to release him after he’d massacred the small village and all of its inhabitants. Another, a magnifying glass, had the effect of shrinking his projectiles to the size of a pinhead. While another still, a needle and thread combo, wouldn’t stop trying to sow his lips together all throughout the fight.
Finally, the supernatural had been the hardest to quantify, though he generally thought of them as curses with such a strong spiritual weight, that they took on a kind of corporeality.
Existences so dense with grief or turmoil, that they actively altered the world around them, bending it to whatever unresolved trauma drove them. There had been one in the shape of a sobbing child, whose mere presence liquified the world around them.
Turning everything it touched into more salty tears, with which to run down its cherubic face. A greedy merchant who turned everything to gold, a burn-scarred man who, with a look, could set things on fire, and so on.
All of this, in addition to the alchemist’s uncanny ability to shift its spirit body in and out of any surface thoroughly saturated with her curse energy, and, in the end, she hadn’t needed physical strength to overwhelm him.
The entire fight eventually devolved into a convoluted game of hide and seek, wherein he continually tried to locate her spirit body and destroy it, while she continued to throw curse after curse his way.
Then, going purely off of Eleanor’s account, the Swamp Queen had been yet another to subvert the common conception of an all-powerful monarch. Forgoing a great deal of personal power, in exchange for the general empowerment of her spawn.
[Arachnid Swamp Queen (Monarch Class | S Grade Rift Spawn)]
Abilities:
Titan’s Stature, Tough Exoskeleton, Tremor Sense, Queenly Aura, Call of the Matriarch, Rapid Proliferation, Matriarch’s Blessing, Web Manipulation, Clutch Hierarchy, Venomous Fangs, Spearing Thrust, Empower Offspring, My Life for the Clutch.
Weaknesses:
???
According to her, actually killing the bulbous spider monarch hadn’t been all that difficult. It was the “getting to her in the first place” part that’d nearly proven impossible.
Protected by legions of her overzealous offspring, a military hierarchy wielding a portion of her strengths and intelligence, it had apparently been a slog from beginning to end. Led by four master generals, half humanoid creatures well versed in human tactics, and an uncountable number of petty officers, she’d compared it to pushing back against a righteous crusade.
Spurred by the will of their collective mother, not only had their morale never once wavered—their unorthodox army never routed nor forced into retreat, not a single time—but they’d used the terrain to their advantage every step of the way.
Ambushes were commonplace, traps were only to be expected, and raids on their supply lines were near constant. What Eleanor had first thought would take a day, maybe two, had instead dragged on for two entire weeks. Their steady advance effectively stagnating, before Jun eventually arrived on the scene.
And then only with his help were they eventually able to make that final push into the heart of the silken domain. Only to find three Arachnid Champions waiting for them.
Beasts which gave even them a run for their money. While Jun kept them busy, Eleanor tackled the Queen, hoping to demoralize her brood. Something they soon learned to regret. As, with its death, as one final farewell to its offspring, it activated an ability that accelerated its own demise, greatly empowering its many children as a result.
In the end, the bloody conflict had continued for another week, before the last remnants of the orphaned hoard was put down.
Which ultimately left their most recent opponent in the long line of defeated monarchs. One which very much played into the archetype of the singularly powerful entity, to the express exclusion of those around it. In fact, the Monkey King Howler easily took that ideal to its furthest possible extreme.
[Monkey King Howler (Monarch Class | S Grade Rift Spawn)]
Abilities:
Titan’s Stature, Titan’s Strength, Titan’s Speed, Primates Agility, Toughened Hide, Lightning Aura, Lightning Manipulation, Piercing Howl, Group Tactics, Trickster’s Slash, Monarch’s Decree, Hat Trick, Trickster’s Taunt, Thunderclap Nerves, All for One.
Weaknesses:
???
Blessed with a combination of natural strengths and a multitude of speed boosting abilities, you would think, on paper at least, it should’ve proven one of the more involved fights of the campaign. On the contrary, however, it actually turned out to be the shortest engagement of them all. And all for one, very simple reason.
Because the great and powerful Monkey King was essentially a coward. Either that, or just plain inconsiderate. A trickster king who used his subjects like commodities—objects to fling away and, hopefully, if he was lucky, impede his enemies, even if by just a little bit—with a unique set of abilities specifically geared towards leveraging that advantage.
Trickster’s Taunt pulsing out a wave of almost curse-like energy, enraging those near him to near apoplectic levels of aggression. Meanwhile Hat Trick allowed it to swap places with any one of its subjects. Something he did quite liberally throughout the fight. Completely uncaring whether whichever sorry primate it swapped places with actually survived the attack that’d been meant for him.
That, in addition to the bolts of lightning it threw out indiscriminately, and it wasn’t long before the once unceasing hoard of howlers had shrunken down to a bare trickle. At which point the indignant ape had pulled out all the stops.
Its final trump card.
All for One was an ability that allowed it to literally suck the life force from any entity caught within its Monarchs Decree—empowering itself at the cost of the lives of its subjects. The exact opposite of the Swamp Queen’s final gambit.
Unfortunately, it had burned through so many of its minions by that point, that it was barely any stronger than it had been at the beginning of the fight. Allowing for Jun, and now Eleanor—previously preoccupied with keeping the hoard of howlers at bay—to clean up the King of the Primates in short order.
Which ultimately led them to where they are now, riding atop griffin back, nursing injuries and pondering the unknown, even as they flew towards the last true front of this interminable war. The seat of the angelic host. The Seraphic Lord Commander’s golden citadel.
***
With the sun barely cresting the distant horizon, Eleanor stood at the edge of the encampment’s outer perimeter, quietly surveying the grassy, windswept plain that stretched out before her. The flat expanse which would serve, for many of those present, as either the site of their ancestor's salvation, or a very early grave.
The disparate sounds of an army rousing itself to wakefulness slowly filtered in through the vagueness of her thoughts.
The blaring cries from deep chested officers easily splitting the cool morning air.
The rhythmic hammer of steel on anvil.
Communal groans from weary soldiers.
The merry sounds of breakfast preparations breathing life into a landscape otherwise drowning in portent. Glancing down, she noted how the grass at her feet seemed to glisten with morning dew. How the air carried with it the promise of rain. And no wonder, really, with the dreary cloud cover looming high above. The gray veil that seemed to wrap the sky in a sullen blanket. Painting everything in muted, almost desaturated hues.
Gusts of wind teased loose strands of hair from beneath her standard issue cloak. Setting the vast ocean of grass stalks to rippling. Sending waves through them like the undulations of an emerald green sea. As far as the eye could see, the open field stretched.
A great expanse likely to turn to treacherous mud-slick within the hour, whether the heavens chose to open up or not. Battle, as she’d been made fully aware of by now, had a way of drenching the earth with the fruits of mortal folly. And lifesblood was always more plentiful than you first thought.
“A penny for your thoughts?”
Eleanor turned, coming face to face with two large, lemon-yellow pools. Y. Jun took another bite out of the pyramid shaped soul fruit he was holding.
“I… it’s nothing.”
“Hoh, hood! Hats ha hwilief!” Jun garbled through a mouthful, fruit juice dribbling down his chin.
“Ah… Umm…? I’m sorry? I didn’t quite catch that last bit. Or the part before. That section in the middle? All of it, really.”
He took another hearty bite out of the oddly shaped fruit. Finishing it in short order, core and all, he reached down and rustled through his rucksack for another.
“I said: ‘Oh, good! That’s a relief!’”
“Ah! I see. Well, thanks, I guess,” Eleanor paused. “Wait, why is that exactly?”
“Well! With the way you’ve been mean mugging those clouds over there—I mean, really giving them the business—I’d begun to suspect something might be wrong! Come to find out, I’d merely been worrying over nothing! And just like that, all is once more right with the world!”
“Oh, w-well,” Eleanor shifted in place. “Maybe not nothing. I have… concerns. I just didn’t want to burden you with my already ponderous conscience.”
“Ahah! I see!”
Eleanor waited. When it didn’t look like he intended to continue, she spoke up.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what’s wrong?”
“Hmm? Why would I do that? You just said it was nothing. It wasn’t even all that long ago. Eleanor! Are you quite sure you’re doing alright? Making faces at the clouds is one thing—I mean, who doesn’t partake from time to time—but going senile at your age is no laughing matter! That is not nothing. Indeed some might go so far as to call it… something! Oh! And speaking of premature senility, I’d nearly forgotten!”
Y. Jun reached out and slipped a copper penny into her hand, closing her fingers around it and patting her knuckles reassuringly.
“Don’t go and spend it all in one place!”
Eleanor stared blankly at her hand for several long seconds, before she turned back to her familiar.
“I don’t even…! I swear you do that on purpose sometimes.”
“Hoo hwhat?” he mumbled past a rind of citrus.
Eleanor sighed. Then, she snorted.
“Never mind.”
Recognizing her, not so subtle, attempt at dropping hints for the lost cause it was, she promptly did the smart thing, and simply threw in the towel. Oddly enough, that actually made her feel a little bit better.
Almost like the many thousands of deaths accumulated, in pursuit of this senseless campaign, couldn’t be laid exclusively at her feet.
Or, if they could, at least when speaking to Jun, she didn’t feel their weight so keenly. She gave her familiar a good long once over. Watching with a mixture of awe, incredulousness, and not a small bit of nausea, as he scarfed down soul fruit after soul fruit, with no real end in sight.
“Is that strictly necessary?” she asked.
Jun briefly looked up from his feast to bob his head vigorously.
“Mmm! Healer’s orders! They’re to keep me in tip top condition! Very nutritious I’ll have you know! Also, if I eat enough of them she said there’s at least a fifty percent chance I don’t explode the next time I’m forced to really go all out! Fifty-fifty! Can you believe it? I mean, really, what more could you ask for?”
‘A hundred percent?’ she thought, but had the wherewithal not to say.
“Are your injuries still troubling you?”
“Oh! You needn’t worry yourself on my account! I have it all under control. I only bleed out of my eyes two or three times a week, now. And my stream is nearly back to its original color. I’m told its because my insides have finished with their bleeding constantly, which I can only take as a promising sign!”
“That… still sounds fairly serious. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Worry not! It isn’t nearly as bad as it sounds, I’m certain of it! After all, it’s practically a healer’s job to overly exaggerate the extent of the damage!”
“Huh. That right? And how do you figure?” she asked, genuinely curious as to how he might rationalize such an inane statement.
“Well, clearly it’s so that, when the patient inevitably gets better, all of their friends and family can throw them a great big surprise party, making them feel even more special than they would have otherwise!”
“Ah. Damn. You ruined the surprise,” she deadpanned.
In an instant, Y. Jun’s head snapped sharply around, deadly serious. Horror was written plainly on slackened features, half eaten soul fruit entirely forgotten. In seconds, his face became as white as a sheet, and his eyes…! They bugged out, almost unnaturally so. Lemon yellow pools going very very round. His bottom lip trembling ever so slightly with visible distress.
“A joke! It was a joke! I was kidding! Ha ha…! Just teasing is all! You most definitely have not spoiled any surprise parties that may or may not have been in the works. Promise!”
Instantly, her familiar deflated, a hand rising to his chest, as if to calm his racing heart.
“Hah! Haha! A grand jest! You truly had me going there! To think! Me? Ruining a surprise? Perish the very thought! I think I’d simply be forced to take my own life, were it so!”
Eleanor gulped.
She breathed a quiet sigh of relief at having averted disaster, not having expected that reaction in the slightest. At least he’d bought the lie easily enough, though that ultimately left her with something of a dilemma. It would seem that, on top of winning this war, she also had a party to plan for. Lovely.
“Right! Well. What do you say we head back to camp? Check in with Lucile and the rest. See if they need us for any last-minute preparations.”
“I think that’s a fantastic idea! Truly inspired. Inspiring! Incredible! In-tangible! In-!”
“Alrighty then!” Eleanor cut him off there, before he could bombard her with an unending stream of increasingly nonsensical alliteration.
It… wouldn’t have been the first time.
“What do you say we just… skip this part entirely? Things are bound to get hectic in fairly short order, and, I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather go into it on a full stomach.”
Even if it felt like she’d simply throw it back up again before the day was done. Truly, she just wanted all of this to be over with.
“In-satiable!”
Eleanor sighed. Then, surprising even herself, she laughed.
