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UE Rewrite: B4 — 16. Minion Break
🕑 Added 2025-01-10 22:10:17 +0000 UTCPoV:
1. Empress Elinor (Our Lich Empress!)
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The tunnels groaned with age, thick with the scent of damp stone and stale air. Elinor barely noticed. Her mind was already ahead of the moment, threading calculations through the Nexus like strands of an intricate web.
Her silvery hair whipped behind her with the rapid movements of the thélméthra drone she rode atop, its many legs scuttling smoothly along the unnaturally smooth tunnel floor. The creature’s metallic-like inky frame shifted below her, calculating every step so as not to dislodge her. The Nexus pulsed with live updates, a distant hum in the back of her mind, supplying her reports in real-time from Garu, Death, her father, and Camellia’s incoming presence.
Ash’s skeletal horse raced beside her, the cloaked figure riding it searching the darkness for danger. Hooves clicked eerily against the stone on their silent journey, moments away from joining the Ethereal scout.
The deeper they went, the colder the air became, not that she felt it. The temperature reflected the information feeding through their private conversations—Garu was in danger.
“Empress, I’m not facing a Xaltan… He’s on the level of an Ethereal Xaria. If I can buy thirty more seconds, it will be a miracle. Perhaps you shouldn’t come.”
Elinor’s nails tapped against her crossed arms, watching the curving hallway stretch on before them as they raced to join him. At this range, she could feel the damage done to the drone she’d given to Garu.
If that’s the case, I better feed into his ego…
Emerald eyes hardening, she opened her mouth; she didn’t need to raise her voice. “Elder Chief Varnak… Given your new attributes, I am sure you can hear me through those trembling threads you carry. Did Jennifer run and leave you to die by my hands?”
Ash’s fingers tightened against his reins, his hollow eyes shifting to peer at her from under his hood. “Empress, your father won’t be pleased…”
Well?
Her lips twitched upward as she felt a gust billow out of the branching tunnel they swapped to, thick mist curling to embrace them. She ignored Ash’s warning. After all, he’d said that he trusted her, and this was what her instincts told her to do.
“…He’s stopped attacking, but I can hardly sense him at this point.”
I’m sure he has… After all, you’re nothing but a snack to him, and I’m the main meal.
“I hear you, Empress of the Pits… Come, see what awaits you within the dark.”
Camellia’s analytical tone held caution behind it as she made contact. “From what the drones are feeding me, Varnak’s body is…changing. Fast. Too fast. It cannot be just a biological boost from ingesting the Egg Essence of my little sister. His body is breaking down and rebuilding at an impossible rate. Every cell breaking apart… Yet, something else is repairing his cellular structure at an even quicker rate.”
She paused, sounding even more bewildered. “It’s too uniform, compared to the guardian and drones I ate… There is a method behind it that perfectly counters my kind’s bile, as if engineered for it…like my mother taught us to do.”
“Not regeneration,” Death muttered, “but replacement? A more scientific method?”
That would be my guess, Elinor hummed, feeling a shiver run down her spine. It can’t be ritual related, since the witches were saved. The Scarlet Hand’s influence? No, she would have used it earlier instead of relying on my brainwashed witches… This has to be the nalvean’s doing.
Death turned his head slightly, moving closer as they came to a stop inside the foggy chamber Garu hid in. Undead crawled out of the deep shadows that trailed him, some heavily armored ri’bot from the Clanless to defenseless partial corpses, clawing their way across the stone with guttural groans.
“The empire itself?”
Doubtful…
Elinor exhaled slowly, steeling herself against the rush of battle-lust that clawed at the edges of her control. Warlord’s Bloodlust simmered inside her like an ember waiting to catch flame. She didn’t indulge it. Not yet. With [Warlord: Soldier’s Spirit] on cooldown for the next six days, she had to rely on her army.
The mist thickened, curling along the floor. Her thélméthra chittered beneath her, sensing the shift. The next moment, Garu flipped out of the shifting haze, only to be locked in place, thread snapping tight around his frame.
“It took you long enough, Empress,” Varnak chuckled from within the haze. “Your own soldier’s ability is used against you.”
Garu’s ruby eyes showed resignation, waiting for the inevitable. “I’m sorry, Empr—”
Her Horseman of Death surged his forces forward to surround them, the carcass of her unintelligent drone swung out of the mists, hanging around her trapped Lieutenant.
However, instead of waiting for the cinematic show Varnak was setting up, Elinor unfolded her arms and jumped. Time seemed to slow as she felt the panic rise from Ash and Garu, her unbound hair fluttering behind her as she landed before her stuck Ethereal warrior.
A moment later, the clattering of chains filled the space, four [Chains of the Damned] ripped through space to attach to the silk binding Garu, locking them in place.
[Soul Lock: Activated]
Landing lightly on her feet, undead surging around her to defend against any counter attack, Elinor found her hands behind her back as a heavy tug tensed against her chains—her willpower held it firm.
“A rather cliché psychological attack, Varnak. Don’t you think so?”
Slow, measured claps came from within the swirling veil, dozens of mindless undead being cut to ribbons only meters away. Ash leaped off his horse to stand before her, sickles dripping with Death Energy, his steed shifting to guard her opposite flank. Yet Elinor didn’t flinch, holding her chin high as she peered into the gray.
Hold the line, Ash. Save your hidden soldiers. Let him test his limits before releasing Hell on him—he’ll invite himself deeper into the cavern. Then, we close the trap, she prompted, keeping her cool gaze neutral. He’s drunk on his own senses and power but as incredibly sharp as they are, he isn’t even a child using them. We need to…
She paused her thought as the Elder Chief’s figure materialized from the blanket of thick vapor. Not old. Not a wrinkle on him. Large yellow eyes alight with life.
“Well, isn’t this a surprise… You look as young as Garu. Congratulations.”
The Nexus pulsed, feeding her the quiet tension as all eyes locked onto the smooth-skinned ri’bot. Ash and Garu waited, unreadable yet expectant, waiting for her command. Garu’s emotions burned raw, unfiltered. Shame. At being bound. At being protected. At being lesser. And beneath it, hotter than any fear—a hunger for strength.
He didn’t need to say it. She felt it thrumming through his soul. Elinor kept her hands behind her back, her posture unshaken, even as her chains groaned under sudden resistance.
Varnak lifted his fingers lazily, tightening the webbed threads between them, but just as quickly, he let up, laughing low under his breath.
“You act like a Great Chief would, human,” he mused, rolling his shoulders as though testing his body’s new, impossible limits. His tone carried no mockery—only pleased recognition. “Jennifer was wrong about you.”
Elinor arched a brow, feeling the small, measured movements of his body, noting every shift in stance, every adjustment in balance. He was settling into his strength, pushing it, tasting it, reveling in it like a beast coming into its prime.
“She thought you would hide behind your dead.” He chuckled, stretching his fingers in slow amusement while testing her chains. “Yet here you are, in the flesh to save one of your own… I suppose you can’t bring them back a second time. Interesting.”
He’s returning to his youth, soaking in it… As accurate and deadly as he is, this youth came at the cost of his wisdom and prudent thought. I can work with that.
The implication was clear: he admired that she was bold enough to stand before him rather than cower behind her forces.
Elinor let the small, knowing smile touch her lips in the artificial stalemate between them. He had the power, and he knew it, but he wanted to boast his superiority. A mistake on his part.
Jennifer knew how deep this old toad’s pride went…and used him to block me. Well played. I hope it was worth it. You survived but lost everything you’d tried to build against me…or was this all a plot in the grand scheme of this game in order to contact the nalvean?
“And what else was Jennifer wrong about?” she posed, tone almost light, conversational, though her chains remained taut, their groan echoing in the chamber.
Her gaze flicked across his body, studying him in real-time—how his muscles flexed beneath his newly reconstructed skin, how his posture carried none of the stiffness of age.
“Have you not taken Jennifer’s power, then? Your son certainly made use of it…with the support of my poor witches,” she continued, eyes half-lidded, watching for the smallest reaction. “I don’t see the Scarlet Hand’s mark on you, though.”
Varnak’s jaw clenched—a flicker of something, just for a moment—before he let out another soft laugh, rolling his shoulders again and lazily pulling on the silk. The noise her chains made wasn’t pleasant, yet they held.
“I did not need her gifts.”
He spread his arms slightly, letting the mist coil around him like a throne unseen, his golden eyes gleaming in the low light of the green-flamed undead around them.
“I have the blood of a princess of the Creeping Shadows within me.” His voice deepened, almost reverent, as he exhaled, lifting a hand to his own chest. “All things are prey before me.”
The Nexus pulsed. Camellia’s somewhat agitated voice came through, grumbling in distaste. “Ick. I can hear him through the thread network. He sounds like my middle sister.” Her words carried a mix of irritation and amusement. “She liked to talk to her prey, too.” A soft click of her tongue fed through the connection. “Hopefully, our new youngest sister won’t get that bad habit.”
Elinor’s lips barely twitched, but her mind was already moving, snapping pieces into place. It’s that bad habit that will be his downfall. Something we should keep in mind for when I do find that sister of yours. If he thinks of himself above all things? Perfect. Let’s see how far that arrogance can be stretched.
She turned her head slightly toward Ash without looking at him directly.
You are my strategist now. Direct things when I leave you until Camellia arrives. Buy me ten minutes.
Ash’s hollow gaze flickered with the first hints of alarm. “Ten, Empress? Camellia herself thinks she wouldn’t be a match.”
Trust me. You’ll have the means.
His fingers curled at his sides as Elinor stared down the prideful Elder Chief. The fabric of his cloak whispered with the movement. His concern wasn’t strategy—it was risk.
“You no longer have your phylactery.” His voice was quiet, edged with something almost close to human emotion. “One wrong move. One whim by him, and you are dead, Empress. We should have retreated the moment Camellia understood the danger and warned us.”
Elinor simply lifted her chin.
Why do you think I will need it? She queried in return, almost playfully. Is it a risk? Yes, but there is a reason Varnak is meeting me like this… It’s because I’m showing the traits of a Great Chief. The thing they value in their culture. If I run, while the Roxim Chief is captured, then everything I built will burn.
She turned her attention back to the dark-skinned toad, speaking aloud this time.
“Do you know your son has been killed by one of my Royal Court members, Varnak?” she asked, her voice steady and direct. A pause. “And do you know who did it…will be here shortly? How about a bet?”
The chamber seemed to still. The way his body tensed was subtle—not an outright reaction, but a shift in weight, a minor stiffening of the fingers. A faint ripple in the perfect flow of his movements. Elinor saw it. She saw everything in ways she hadn’t until seeing Irkalla’s visions. Another gear slid into place. Causing her smile to widen further.
[Level Up - Level 29]
[1 Stat Points Added; 5 Available]
[1 Feat Extension Point Added; 4 Available]
[1 Refinement Point Available]
[1 Branch Feat Point Available]
The chamber hung in eerie silence. Mist coiled like living tendrils around them, the stale air thick with tension so tangible it seemed to press against her skin.
Varnak’s golden gaze bore into Elinor, curious—a predator contemplating the worth of its prey. “Are you suggesting I should avenge my son through a contest, Empress?” His voice carried a note of amusement, but beneath it, something sharp and waiting. “A tactic to live but a moment longer? I heard you were immortal… Perhaps that was overstated.”
Elinor hummed, taking a more casual posture, her expression tempting. That was the opening she needed. “Every death of my people, I feel,” she smoothly conveyed, stepping forward a mere fraction and making the toad prepare for action. “Wouldn’t you want to project the most pain on me, Elder Chief? To obtain the highest degree of honor amongst your race?”
The webbed threads between them trembled as Varnak’s grip tightened, his fingers flexing like talons around invisible strings.
“Isn’t that right?” she continued, voice like silk woven with steel. “You wouldn’t kill me first. You’d save me for last… You know I can’t compete physically. You believe me immortal in any case. I require…other methods to handle.”
She let the words settle. Let them sink into the untouched arrogance in his chest, let them fester in the seat of his newfound divinity—at least that was how he felt.
Then, softly, she smiled. “But let me be clear… You’ll never get through them all before reaching me.”
A flicker—his pupils dilated slightly. “What are you spouting, Human? I could cut you and your host to ribbons in the blink of an eye.”
“Oh?” She tilted her head, watching as the weight of her words slithered into his mind like a worm, burrowing deeper and deeper. “You are about to have the greatest fight of your life, Varnak. Don’t cut a tongue that will sing your glory. A battle is upon you that will exceed even your fame in the Fire Wars.”
Her voice dipped lower, an edge of mirth curling at the edges. “But your hubris in giving me this leeway…will be your downfall. You won’t last the hour.”
The air snapped.
[Limit Break Activated: Minion Break II]
A sickly green aura surged outward, crawling up the bodies of every undead surrounding her. The ground vibrated with the flames that engulfed her. The Nexus pulsed like a war drum in her mind, synchronizing the battlefield in an instant as her bottled power flooded her soldiers.
Varnak’s lips curled into something feral, his fingers closing.
Threads snapped tight.
Her chains shattered.
A heartbeat of stillness.
And then—
Garu dissolved.
His entire form collapsed into vapor, reforming a few meters away, his body no longer the same.
[Garu’s Grade Has Advanced: Uncommon to Rare]
His mist deepened, flickering with an unnatural iridescence. His form solidified in front of her, stronger, faster, his eyes gleaming with renewed power.
Varnak’s body tilted, slow, calculated, watching the shift. He flexed his fingers once more, drawing his threads back to his frame. The jade flames illuminating the fog danced off the cavern walls, shadows flickering in chaotic patterns around them.
And then, from within her horde, Elinor smiled.
“The battle has only just begun,” she whispered, voice smooth as glass. “You should pace yourself, Elder Chief. I wouldn’t want you burning out too quickly.”
Varnak’s pupils constricted. His muscles tensed.
And at that exact moment—Elinor closed her eyes, severing her hold on the physical world, letting the roars of the undead and the clashing of steel fade into nothingness. The moment she withdrew inward, the tension bled away.
No longer surrounded by mist and flame, she opened her eyes to the cool, flickering blue glow of the grand hearth. The scent of aged parchment, wax, and rain-kissed stone replaced the blood-tinged dampness of the cavern. A faint patter of liquid drummed gently against the large glass window to her left, rolling thunder humming in the distance as she overlooked her soon to be valley.
Elinor sat before a towering fireplace, the gilded spear of Ashrit mounted above it, gleaming with sinister golden light between Butter and her halves. The warmth of the flickering flames did not touch her deadened gaze as it went to her sister’s side. Still darkened, only hanging on by the faintest threads of their twin souls.
A great black-and-gold organ at the far end of her chamber sighed as if it had been waiting, deep chords rolling through the vast space like the slow breath of a slumbering god. Accompanying it, violins stirred—a symphony of control, of inevitability.
Elinor exhaled through her nose, reclining in her chair while taking note of the fractures in the room, the rain falling through cracks in streams. Allowing the steady hymn of her breaking soul to filter through her. Oddly, it was comforting.
I can’t say why, but I like this feeling of…vulnerability. I can’t rely on my own strength. It’s nice having power. I can flex and join the battle myself at times, taking the Warlord path. Yet, I am also a Lich Empress…
With a desire, her transparent sheets of cascading black and white script folded open midair. Her status menu unraveled, calculations forming as she reviewed her available resources.
Numbers. Percentages. Growth projections.
Five stat points…
Her fingers tapped idly against the armrest as she parsed the calculations, already running projections on what she would need to invest in for the future. A few adjustments, carefully placed, could turn this into a controlled slaughter with her available improvements. Then again, she had to plan ahead.
She smirked, turning her gaze to the storm-veiled valley stretched beyond the cracked glass walls of her sanctum. Outside, distant phantoms of herself moved like wraiths—visual echoes of Irkalla bleeding through, of her evolving self, flickering in and out of sight between the shifting storm clouds. In the light reflection on the surface of the glass, she saw her ears becoming more pointed over time.
Perhaps I will have to face my own past, Butter. Will you be there to support me…or use it for your advantage to gain more ground? Her focus returned to her sheet. It really is a benefit to save your points for later dates due to our expanding souls. Can I do this…
[Path of the Warlord Tree - Refinement Time - 7 Days]
I can… Interesting. With that one refinement, I’m touching on every one of its branches. Just as refining [Primal Force] doubled my EXP gain. Well, I suppose the more proper way to say it would be to refine my ability to absorb spiritual energy from my environment and those I kill. With that down… How about my Branch Feats?
Studying her options, her brow furrowed upon spotting a rather intriguing addition that hadn’t been there on her earlier examination. The moment she refined the Warlord Path, it had appeared. Three new branches:
[Warlord Attack Feat Branch: Dominion I - For 10 minutes, every minion under Warlord’s command gains a temporary boost to Dexterity, Force, and Energy. Doubles [Monarch of Death’s] range and the effects of any offensive enhancing Feats of the Warlord. Modifiers: Scales with Force, Dexterity, and Energy.]
[Warlord Defense Feat Branch: Death’s Bastion I - For 10 minutes, creates a passive aura of defense around the Warlord based on the stats of their highest defensive unit. Doubles the defensive enhancing Feats of the Warlord. Grants buff to all minions based on modifiers. Modifiers: Scales with Defense, Energy, and Tenacity.]
[Warlord Utility Feat Branch: Warborn Strategist I - For 30 minutes, grants the Warlord a real-time tactical overview of all forces under their command, akin to a battle-map they can process in their mind, allowing for precise counter-strategies and predictive maneuvers over territory already discovered by the user’s minions. Unintelligent minions can be given slightly more complex orders to follow. Modifiers: Scales with Constitution and Mental-based Feats.]
Contemplating them for a few seconds, her finger tapped [Dominion] as her choice. Conflict was always the last result in building a kingdom, but in the end, laws and rules could only be enforced through force.
If I need [Death’s Bastion] I’m already in trouble…and I can always synchronize with Dad’s soul if I need the defense. Still, the defensive option isn’t bad, and a battle of attrition is always an option. Right now… I need the speed to overwhelm Varnak.
Swiftly going down the list of Feat Extensions, she saw several that could be useful. Yet, she had one more level before 30, and large changes typically came with a new tier.
Levels one to nineteen gave her a base growth for her soul.
Twenty had been a massive shift into the next tier, showing her soul was expanding with her new Path Trees.
Thirty could be just another growing marker, potentially giving her further developments in her Path… And given that she was currently refining it, it was worth holding off sinking points into something she might regret later.
The final question came with her Stats.
Dexterity is a problem for me…to an extent. By channeling the soul of someone like Camellia, or even a drone, that is totally mitigated. Yet, the multipliers are what seem to be the greatest bonus with Stats… I have 5 available, and the closest one to 10 is Strength… Stronger chains are always a benefit.
She invested the points.
[Strength 10 Achieved]
[Strength +1 Granted]
Now with her Strength practically 20, she immediately felt the increase in not only her body, but every Feat that gained from its multiplier. Her gaze fixated on her remaining points.
[4 Feat Extension Point Available]
[Minion Break II Time Remaining - 2:34 minutes]
“Empress, I’m nearly there!”
Well, then I suppose it is time to end this war.
Her Inner Sanctum bled into colors, the sound of thunder and rain fading to the sharp clash of metal, and the collapsing of dead corpses to the floor. Illuminated emerald eyes opening, she tightened her grip around her wrist at her back, seeing the litter of corpses around her in the dense fog.
The clash of sparks through the mist, the flash of neon blue light from Garu’s skin patterns tracing across the space. Death fought beside him, flame-wreathed bodies marred with gashes and cuts that leaked their essence. They were struggling more by the minute, Varnak getting more and more accustomed to his new body.
Without waiting to see more, she whispered, “Camellia, show Varnak what a true thélméthra princess is capable of… I dare say this may even bring you up to your original power.” Raising a fist to the air, she said one word that echoed through the halls. “Dominate.”
[Warlord - Domination: Activated]
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