BlueShear
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Chapter 76
🕑 Added 2025-03-20 17:41:11 +0000 UTCCHAPTER SEVENTY SIX
With a degree of elegance that seemed altogether effortless, the smartly dressed gentlemen took a sip of tea, set the cup down briefly to turn the page of the dogeared penny dreadful, before he retrieved the cup once more and raised it for a second such sip. The intoxicating aroma tickling at the olfactory organs in delightfully invigorating ways.
“Marvelous,” he muttered, shaking his head at the unexpected twist. “Simply marvelous.”
Richard’s super ego let out a contented sigh. Reveling in the uncomplicated serenity of the library without all the unexpected interruptions.
Abruptly, a rather large portion of the library opposite him warped.
His contented smile slipped.
The view from his curved balcony changed.
And, instead of rows upon rows of shelves—extending as far back as the eye could see—a harsh world of light and shadow rapidly took shape. It looked like nothing so much as a swamp or large bayou.
A place characterized by bodies of still water covered in algae, and bald cypresses with their near vertical roots and dangling foliage. Not to mention the copious swarms of agitated insects. Or, at least, what he first assumed to be insects. It was only after giving the churning clouds of darkness a better look, that he realized just how off the mark he’d been.
Slack jawed and wide eyed, his penny dreadful novel slipped from unresponsive fingers to slap against the cold stone floor.
With a low, bestial growl, the discarded novel moved. Tried to nip at his heel. He quickly retracted his foot, reached down, and clipped the unruly thing about the bindings. The book yipped.
“Now now, what did we say about biting?”
The paperback whined pitifully, before, with one last resentful backwards glance, it slinked beneath the table to sulk. The well dressed man merely let out a put upon sigh.
“That boy and his ‘soul tempering.’ This place will resemble a jungle by the time he’s finished, mark my words. Oh-? And speak of the devil…”
A familiar sensation drew his attention away from the calamity. It wasn’t much longer before the unrepentant agent of chaos materialized.
The young boy snapped his head around decisively, took in the situation surprisingly quick, before he turned to contemplate his subconscious conscience—a look of fierce determination burning in his eyes. The super ego’s reprimand died on his lips. Instead, he merely sighed, carefully set down his cup of tea, and rose to his feet.
He was in the midst of removing his cuff links, and rolling up his sleeves, when he addressed the boy’s silent question.
“Alright,” he sighed. “Just tell me what you need, and I’ll see what I can do.”
The boy grinned.
“I need you to keep them occupied,” he jerked his head in the direction of the thousands strong army. “Not forever, mind you. Just long enough for me to finish what I started. Oh! And make sure my soul stays a least remotely intact in the meantime.”
The super ego glanced from him, to the bona fide horde beginning to take notice, then back to him with a deadpan expression.
“Is that all?”
The kid grinned wider.
“Actually, now that you mention it, some coffee would be wonderful. Two cream two sugar? You’re the best!”
The super ego’s left eye twitched. But, before he could say anything in response, the child suddenly vanished. Though he thought he heard the echo of his laughter for several seconds after.
With another sigh, this one of resignation, he turned towards the lively swampland, and began to levitate into the central well—a stream of paperbacks trailing after in his wake.
“You know, I can’t help but hate myself at times like these.”
+++
Purrsefone flit through the shadow realm as if he’d been born to it. Streaked across a dull, monochrome sky, while far below a forest of trees, like standing paper cutouts, whipped past at speed. The hair on his body rose all at once, the taste of ozone filling the air. The creature swerved to the right just in the nick of time. Or, at least he tried to. A golden wave of authority overpowered his own with ease. Froze him in place for just a moment. Just long enough for the strike to land.
CRACK!
The creature spasmed as yet another arc of lightning coursed through his body. This one accompanied by an aspect he was wholly unfamiliar with. A particularly infuriating blend of concepts, it caused the lightning to sap even more of his strength than usual with each hit, while the voltage itself persisted for far longer than it should have.
Ultimately forcing him to divest even more of his dwindling mana supply to cleanse the foreign mana from his system, before the black corruption could use it as more fuel.
It would appear, amidst the high speed chase through hostile territory, the insufferable little chit had somehow found the time to experiment.
How… infuriating.
He rued the day he stepped foot on this accursed tutorial.
The second he flushed his system of the clingy lightning mana, Purrsefone spun, sent a cloud of shadow locusts the Empress’s way, and made a hasty retreat. She didn’t even bat an eye, the brat. A flurry of wind blades dicing up his sorry excuse for an attack well before it reached her. Unsurprising, seeing as he lacked the mana to turn his shadow wraiths into anything more than simple fodder.
A wave of nausea stole through him then, so overpowering that it nearly had him pitching from the sky. The creature retched. Black, pulsating bile spilling over his lips, only to stop, reverse—force its way back down his throat as if offended at the eviction. The creature groaned, but managed not to falter too much in his retreat. Another arc of lightning struck him as a result of his inattention, but he payed it no mind.
If anything, it was a blessing. More and more of the natural born denizens of this realm were taking notice. In a world completely devoid of harsh light or sounds, the crackling arc of lightning served as raging bonfire. And the thousands upon thousands of fell creatures drifting in from all sides, meanwhile, all curious moths drawn to said flame.
It wouldn’t take much for those curious gazes to turn hostile. In fact, he wouldn’t even need to lift a finger. The stupid girl’s trespass was more than enough.
Black veins congregated in his left forearm, where he’d drawn the majority of his highly concentrated mana. As if sharks scenting blood in the water the black corruption surged. Once his arm felt full to bursting, he brought his wicked claws around and cleaved the infection from his body—the black gunk spilling from his severed arm as it tumbled ever earthward.
It wouldn’t stop the corruption, but it would slow it down considerably. Long enough for him to return home and seek out the counsel of his elders? Quite possibly. And lose considerable face in the process? Over his dead body.
As if by unspoken signal, the shadow realm fell upon her with a vengeance. Purrsefone, having held out for just this very moment, fell in with the crowd. Mana at a severe deficit, his body was just as hale as ever. He glanced at his stump.
Well, mostly hale.
The shadows swarmed like a kicked hornets nest. And, in no time at all, the empresses diminutive figure was obscured by a ball of shifting shadows periodically punctuated by brief flares of light. Purrsefone merely hung back, jostled by his many comrades in arms as they streamed past. A seemingly infinite number of them, all things told. The rippling ball of shadows swelled exponentially. The flashes of light grew less and less frequent.
The scent of desperation grew heavy on the air.
Purrsefone let his keen nose and intuition guide him. So that, when the all devouring cyclone broke through the cordon of enemies. Began to hoover up the fearsome denizens by the thousands, not only was he outside the wide radius of the attack, but he was also in the perfect position to capitalize on her brief lapse in attention.
Penumbral PlainsWalk carried him behind the girl and her raging cyclone in the blink of an eye. Even still, his close proximity nearly drew him in all the same. Clumps of hair were torn from his coat, as he brought his claw tipped paw around, lightning fast. Only to be turned aside by several crossed weapons—the legendary items that’d been orbiting her all this time.
Turned aside, but not completely. Sparks flew, the poor parry gave way, and blood fountained in a glorious arc. The empress screamed as a deep gash was carved along her spine.
Her scream cut short as the pain promptly grew too much. Immediately, the cyclone died. Then, in the next instant, the brat and all her fancy items plummeted from the sky. A whirlpool of shadow spiraling after her in hot pursuit. Purrsefone briefly took a moment. Lapped up the blood wetting his claws, narrowed his eyes in pure pleasure, before he finally made to give chase.
Only for a peculiar looking figure to bring him up short. A diminutive suit of armor that looked to be made entirely of red slips of paper. A figure that was quickly joined by one more, nearly identical. The fraction of a seconds’ worth of incomprehension ultimately proved his downfall. The distant crack of the talismanic railgun preempted the loosed missile, though not by much. Far superior stats allowed the creature to see the projectile coming, and even begin to evade.
His head marginally tilting to the side. Unfortunately for him, and the nature of his birth, his head made for an especially large target. Instead of taking him full on through the cranium, it bore through to the bone of his left cheek instead. His skull fractured, but, ultimately, held. Though his neck did snap back to the point of whiplash.
Then came the explosion.
BOOM!
Now there were two intruders plummeting from the sky. One pursued by a bevy of irate shadow creatures. The other, by a trio of paper dolls, whose master, as it so happened, put the grievances of the first group to utter shame.
+++
Far below those matters of the mundane, within a world of cracks and crevices—in which both light and darkness defer to shade—shock, sound, and rumbling vibrations dared to intrude upon penumbral slumber. For the first time in many millennia, a thing of shadows’ primordial stirs.
+++
Richard uncorked the healing potion with his teeth, and poured its contents over the bleeding laceration. Penelope whimpered in her sleep, before going still as the high grade consumable went to work. His stomach clenched at the sight. More disturbed by her injury than he was the swarm of shadow creatures currently dead set on rending them to pieces.
Thankfully he’d made considerable improvements to his initial design, so evading their collective grasp with his flying carpet-like contraption was proving less difficult than it sounded.
Weaving around the gathering of Shades, Nightmares, Nightcrawlers, Nightwings, and all manner of “night” related horrors that’d come out of the woodwork, while puppeteering the creature’s downfall, however, was proving considerably more difficult.
Richard cut a sharp right turn, one arm holding on for dear life, while the other made sure Penelope didn’t tumble over the side in the maneuver. A circular, wormlike maw—filled with rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth—clamped shut over where they’d just been. The kilometer long length of worm meat whizzing past like the bull to his matador. No doubt readying for yet another pass.
A few more aerial maneuvers outwitted a school of wraiths, a flock of nighteels, and a clump of shadow elementals—basically like creeping storm clouds with extra gumption. And by gumption, he of course meant the propensity to burrow into one’s mind and cripple them with thoughts of despair and general hopelessness. An appropriate reflection of what it was like to persist inside the shadow realm for extended periods of time.
Even with his resilience so high, its effects weren’t completely nullified. Like a quiet whispering droning on in the back of his head. And of course, it didn’t help matters any that his soul felt like it might shake apart any moment.
His body stiff and unresponsive. The voices louder by the second. His vision began to tunnel. His pulse to beat like a drum in his ears, before a ringing drowned out everything else. The silence was deafening.
Visceral alarm blared through the mental haze like a foghorn.
Richard’s contraption suddenly dipped—diving below a churning cloud of elementals just in time for a stream of black and purple fire to streak past overhead. Breaking up the cordon of elementals, if dealing little actual harm. The shadow wyvern followed shortly thereafter—swooping past with barely a whisper.
Heart hammering, he refocused his mind on the task at hand. And he didn’t just mean his fancy evasions. As he steered them on an intersect course with the creature, his mind was somewhere else entirely.
+++
With his remaining paw, Purrsefone bisected the paper puppet straight down the middle. It proved effortless. Easy. Far too easy. In fact, that was kind of the problem. The talismans parted around his paw as he swiped, before settling back into place with a rustle—none the worse for wear.
Instead of relenting, however, Purrsefone lashed out again and again. Tapping into his overwhelming frustration with the situation to deal devastating blows. Wind resistance actively buffeting him as he flirted dangerously with the sound barrier. The two tumbled from the sky. And all the while he hounded the paper doll. Didn’t let up for even a second. Didn’t allow it to disengage.
He tore away bits of shredded paper with every third or fourth strike—the infuriating construct literally shrinking before his very eyes.
It was the only way he could think to-
CRACK!
Purrsefone plains-walked to the side, ahead of the streaking projectile, though the resulting explosion still managed to singe his fur and send him flying. This was followed by yet another report.
CRACK!
Then another.
CRACK!
In the end, he only managed to evade two out of the three.
It took him in the side this time. The resulting explosion fracturing the left side of his ribcage. His body made to pinwheel through the air at speed. The evolution to E Grade having strengthened his bones and musculature significantly, while his regeneration was already hard at work repairing the minor damage. With that black gunk still spreading through his veins however, the process was noticeably slowed.
Where the boy had even discovered something like that…
Were the organizers made aware that the brat was in possession of something so forbidden, so dangerous, this entire sector would be placed on quarantine in a heartbeat. Dooming him and his entire race to a swift and brutal cleansing.
… while also, broadcasting Purrsefone’s great shame to the greater multiverse as a whole. Something he could not, would not stand for.
Even if it meant the end of this particular universe, it was not something he was willing to endure.
He slammed back first into a steep cliff face. Yet another paper cutout, it neither bent, nor cracked. Like ramming into an unyielding steel plate. All of that force transferred back into him—dealing even more havoc on his insides. Stunned, he didn’t see the hail of projectiles until it was too late, though he heard them well enough.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Two of the three talismanic puppets spending themselves completely to send a volley of high speed projectiles his way. One in the forehead, two in the sternum. The detonations were thunderous, and the impact so severe, that, by the time Richard arrived on the scene—bobbing at the head of the most intense conga line to have ever existed—the creature had still yet to regain his senses. The limp sack of fur ball tumbling down the sheer cliff -face a sight for sore eyes.
It was just as he was beginning to wonder how he’d go about finishing the deed with a realms worth of backseat drivers on his heels, when the problem was solved for him. Abruptly, the sea of shadowy horrors froze, turned tail, and fled for all they were worth. Richard bobbed along for a few seconds more—carried along by his previous urgency, when he felt it.
“Ah,” his master muttered. “You know, I was afraid this might happen.”
In the next moment, an unbroken wall of shadow swelled up from behind the two dimensional mountain range. Rose to dwarf the jagged peaks in short order, before it blotted out much of the sky entirely. Richards heart raced. A pit of primal dread pooling in his stomach. Finally, a presence descended upon them.
A presence which, rather alarmingly, he only really knew to equate to a C Grade powerhouse.
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Edit suggestion: empresses diminutive figure -> empress's diminutive figure shadows’ primordial -> shadows primordial
