Wizardly Dude
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[TEA] (94) 2.45. Deal or no Deal?
🕑 Added 2025-08-14 16:00:09 +0000 UTCWhile he could still be caught off guard if he wasn’t expecting something, thanks to Comprehend, Asher was still able to process most things far faster than most people.
Which meant where most people would probably take a moment or two to realize their bodies were wracked with pain and feel like they were melting from the inside out, Asher didn’t have that problem.
He experienced it immediately.
“Arghhh!” he screamed, forgetting about trying to keep any semblance of stealth as his body burned and twisted. Each of the liquids that doused him seemed to be doing something entirely unrelated than the others, and the mixture put him in a living hell.
Half of his exposed skin began to rapidly harden and fall off in giant chunks, while in the same instant, the other half ignited in green flames, starting to bubble and form horrific, puss filled boils. Two of the steel daggers within his bandolier began melting as one of the concoctions splashed them, the liquid steel flowing down his chest and burning through his shirt and chest alike. Unbearable pain wracked his form as these different effects battled and warred with one another. The sheer, unexpected pain and sensation of his body being torn apart in different directions stunned him for a single moment, but after that initial wave, he snapped to attention and grit his teeth.
Activating Complete Resilience’s second tier ability, Asher felt a familiar pulse of cleansing energy wash through him, dispelling the myriad of alchemical effects bombarding his body. It did nothing for the damage that was already done, but it brought him sweet relief as the fires racing across his body winked out and his flesh stopped erupted under him.
Hissing in pain, he yanked off his bandolier and ripped off what was left of his shirt, desperate to get as much molten steel off his chest as he could before it burned a hole straight through him. While his condition wasn’t getting any worse, moving with raw skin covered in enormous boils wasn’t pleasant, and his eyes watered as his movements stretched his abused body.
Not the best way to start a fight…
With shaky fingers, he pulled a potion of Lesser Restoration out of his rift and downed it in a single go. Even as the soothing effect washed over him and he felt his body beginning to restore itself before his very eyes, he could tell something was wrong.
Eight had to have some sort of skill similar to his Sever the Thread but for potions, because Asher could tell without even looking that his body wasn’t healing nearly as quickly as it should have been. The fact that his Complete Resilience hadn’t expelled the effect alongside the potions could only mean that Eight was close, and the skill was constantly reapplying itself somehow.
“Enjoying my workshop?” came a voice from somewhere within the room. The unexpected voice was high pitched and sounded both annoyed and amused at his presence. “Damn that Leighann, allowing herself to be caught and giving you the information needed to find me. She was supposed to be an insurmountable barrier for anyone who ever thought to try tracing me through my notes. I’ll admit, I never expected anyone to actually invade the Frent estate, and never so quickly at that!”
“Show yourself!” Asher demanded, shouting into the vast workshop as he spun around and searched for the owner of the taunting voice. He didn’t exactly have high hopes such an order would work, but it didn’t hurt to try.
“Now why would I do that, hmm? I’m well aware of your capabilities, Reaper, I’ve been monitoring your progress for a while now. Nasty work how you took care of Frashina, that. I never expected someone to have a skill capable of defeating her Ice Double so easily.”
“You make it sound like you’ve been watching me all this time, but then why would you still be here in your workshop?” he called out, slowly beginning to search the room for the high-pitched voice, his daggers as the ready. Every movement of his still-healing body hurt as he stretched damaged skin, but pain was something he could handle. “Surely you would have run away with your tail between your legs if you knew I was coming. You don’t strike me as someone brave.”
“Bravery is for fools,” the voice scoffed, still echoing from what sounded like multiple locations. “I didn’t manage to survive all these years by being brave. I was smart. I don’t just concoct potions, I concoct plans. I will admit, ideally, we’d be having this conversation under slightly different circumstances. I’d planned to have fully moved my workshop to another location before you managed to figure out where my main lab was located, but I suppose making my proposition here works just as well.”
Asher grinned at the gentle roaring in his ears as his borrowed skill activated, and he shook his head as he rounded another corner in search of the voice. “You’re lying. You never planned for me to find your workshop. If I had to guess, I’d bet you're desperate right now. Grasping at straws as you try and figure out a way of climbing out of the hole you’ve dug for yourself.”
“Ah, I see you came away from your conversation with the truthseekers with more than I thought,” Eight said, sounding annoyed. “I can’t keep tabs on what they do within that little sanctum of theirs, but when you brought them William, it was obvious what was going to happen. Tell me, how did you of all people manage to strike a deal with the truthseekers? I’ve tried to establish contact and come to some form of understanding with different truthseekers over the years, but I never much managed to get past the ‘I’ll kill you for being evil’ phase so many of them seem so foolishly rooted in.”
“Let’s just say we came to an understanding,” Asher said, spotting a flicker of movement in the corner of the room and narrowing his eyes. In an instant, he formed a compressed tunnel of space and leapt forward, crossing the empty aisle and ramming his dagger into his target without a second thought. He felt his blade sink through flesh, but he blinked at the realization it wasn’t a human that he’d stabbed.
A large, twisted-looking rat with bloodshot eyes and covered in disgusting mold from head to tail lay dead at his feet, blood pooling out from around Asher’s dagger. The smell of the blood and mold was enough to make Asher gag, and he took a hurried step back, wrinkling his nose at the horrific scent.
“Well, even if I didn’t plan for things to happen quite as they did, that doesn’t mean I don’t still have a proposition for you,” Eight continued, his voice suddenly sounding like he’d managed to slip away across the workshop while Asher was distracted. “The Head sent you to kill me, and no doubt promised you my own position as a Finger in reward, but I have a counter offer for you.
“Help me take down the Head, and I’ll reward you with the same.”
“You’re seriously turning on your mysterious Head, just like that?” Asher called out, coughing at the lingering scent of the dead rat as he once more headed toward the source of the voice. “You must be more desperate than I thought.”
“I prefer to think of it as seeing a unique opportunity presenting itself,” Eight countered, his echoing voice sounding rather smug for someone in his predicament. “I’ve been trying to come up with a way to take down the Head and their unique skills for years now, and all of a sudden, what should fall into my lap but the perfect tool? Imagine, everything you’re already capable of, all the death and devastation you already bring to the table, assisted by my outstanding alchemical concoctions? I can grant you strength, speed, power, beyond your wildest dreams. Together, we can make you an unstoppable force capable of massacring armies without breaking a sweat.”
Asher had to admit he was mildly impressed with the offer. Honest Ears wasn’t activating, which meant Eight truly meant every word he was saying. He hadn’t seen what the man could create besides his poisons at this point, but he supposed it made sense that such a talented alchemist was capable of far more.
Granted, that didn’t mean he was going to accept. Eight had sent magadrine powder to Samantha’s cabin. Had risked the lives of two of the very few people Asher truly cared about.
For that, he had to die.
“I may have actually given your offer some thought if you’d pitched it to me a few weeks ago,” he admitted, carefully maneuvering around another large glass contraption filled with multiple bubbling liquids. He’d learned his lesson once, he didn’t feel the need to tempt Eight to throw another one of his in-progress experiments all over him. “Back when I was trapped under Loratta’s thumb, or even when I was simply experiencing the thrill of combat for the first time. However, that was before you sent a parcel of death to my home. Before you dared to bring innocent people into whatever feud you have with me. There’s only one thing I can give you in exchange for that, and it’s not a partnership.”
“You people and your emotional ties,” Eight sighed, the long breath sounding strange as it echoed all around him. “I rid myself of anything like that years ago. They bring nothing but weakness. A chink in an otherwise impenetrable suit of armor.”
“They give you a reason to don that armor in the first place,” Asher argued, sensing motion directly behind him and slipping into the astral without a second thought. He barely managed to dodge another set of glassware exploding, watching the liquid that soared through him eat through the stone floor of the workshop like it was made of paper. Returning to the material realm, he called out. “I won’t lie and say anything as grandiose as ‘I fight because of them’ but they sure as hell give me a reason to push myself to my limits!”
“It’s a weak man that relies on others to better himself,” Eight scorned, sounding more disappointed than anything. “This is such a golden opportunity, I’ll offer it one more time before I kill you. Join me, Reaper. My concoctions aren’t limited to simply making you a better fighter. I can improve you, take what you’re good at and make you the best. A literal, killing machine that could mow through even the kingdom’s strongest without issue.”
“I’m starting to think you don’t actually understand me as well as you think you do,” Asher coughed, waving away the acrid smell of the acid he’d narrowly dodged as he returned to the hunt. He still didn’t know how Eight was hiding from him, but it was only a matter of time before he figured it out. “I don’t want to carve my way through people with overwhelming power because of some potion I drank. Of course I want to grow stronger, but I want to do it my way, one bloody dagger at a time. I don’t live for the carnage, or the victory. I live for the fight. The struggle that I’ll eventually overcome, regardless of how powerful my opponent is.”
“Spoken like a true idiot,” Eight sighed, sounding resigned to what he had to do. “You’ve put me in quite a difficult position, you know that? Now that I know the Head is looking to replace me, I can’t just go back to the way things were. And with their skills, running isn’t an option. I need a weapon, something to drive between the Head’s ribcage that they don’t see coming. If you refuse to be that weapon for me, then I suppose I’ll just have to make one for myself.”
“I’d love to see you try,” Asher grinned, waiting for Eight to finally reveal themselves.
“Oh, you won’t be seeing much of anything soon enough,” Eight laughed. “Your body should be more than ready by now. I’d apologize for the pain, but frankly, I almost wish I could make this hurt even worse after everything you’ve put me through.”
Asher went to call out, to call him a coward for still hiding after all this time when he suddenly doubled over. Pain, wracked through his chest; horrific, debilitating pain that was all consuming and prevented him from thinking of anything else. The pain was like nothing he’d ever experienced before, it felt like he was melting and burning from the inside out at the same time. Thankfully, he’d expected Eight to pull something like this, and he quickly activated Complete Resilience’s second tier, letting out a rough sigh of relief as the pain vanished just as quickly as it had started.
Asher had just enough time to take a shuddering breath and cough a couple of times, before it all began again, and he screamed as his ribcage felt like it was trying to tear itself out of his chest.
Whatever Eight had done to him, he couldn’t escape it.
Comments
Angela Roberts
Fighting on an alchemists own turf?
Stephen Swanson
Thank you!
InLucidReverie
Dawn that armor -> don
