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The New Dark Lord: Book 3- Chapter 35
🕑 Added 2025-04-30 11:00:58 +0000 UTCBeing dead had been strange. Arion actually wasn’t sure, now, whether he had been dead. He’d been conscious, sort of. And sort of not. Everything was…Muddled. Abstract. The experience had been on him only hours ago, he believed, and yet already the memory felt years old. By comparison, he knew that the real world—the world of the living—felt almost painfully solid. Everything was starkly defined, sharp edges, vibrant colours. Yes, he was in muddy, temperate Aoakanis surrounded by rubble and exposed dirt, and yet the kaleidoscope of colours it displayed made wherever souls went upon death seem all the duller.
That decided him, in the end. It wasn’t pain or boredom or despair that scared Arion about the underworld. It was its lessness. He would never go back there again.
—”And then the fucking idiot jumped through the portal after him—her, now, I guess—which left the rest of us to just sort of fall apart and bicker amongst ourselves.”
Collin Baird had been explaining everything to occur in Arion’s absence, as far as he knew. Arion had tried to listen, committing as much to memory as his years of magus training would allow, but his was far from optimal condition for any sort of study. Physically, he was fine. Better than fine. He felt stronger than he ever had, more energetic. Not superhuman, perhaps, not enhanced, more…Refreshed. He hoped the feeling lasted.
Just as he hoped the mental fatigue did not.
“When…Uh, when did my Master become…You know. A woman?” Arion felt awkward asking it, unsure if he was breaking some taboo. Everyone had behaved so naturally regarding the fact he felt silly for even noticing it. But Baird appeared rather relieved by the question, as if he’d been feeling just the same way.
“I have no idea.” He sighed. “She just kind of…Showed up like that. I don’t know why, and I didn’t ask. Honestly it just seems like a Silenos sort of thing to do.”
Arion had no idea, to this day, what was and was not a Silenos thing to do. Except for torture, he supposed. He—she—had made clear where they stood on that.
One moment, she was cruel. The next…This. What he’d come back to. Arion’s failure still stung his thoughts, but not nearly as much as the confusion. That was worse, he thought, than anything. At least Silenos’ abuse had been familiar, accustomed. Arion had spent a lifetime growing used to the treatment magi gave to their students. This was something new.
His pondering was halted, relievingly, by another summons. This one aimed at both himself and Baird at once. From Silenos of course. They answered it quickly, finding the woman in more or less the same place she had gathered her followers to berate them before. The difference now was twofold; her mood seemed considerably lightened, and she was gesturing to Ensharia with no small amount of pride as she spoke.
“As all of you can see,” Arion’s Master was saying, “The material of this armour is beyond the sciences of this world, or even my own personal powers. It is composed of a remarkably durable structure assembled on the atomic level to approach theoretical limits of material strength. Thousands of times more resilient than mundane steel while being no greater in density.”
Arion studied the material as Silenos described it, and found that, true to her words, he couldn’t recognise anything about it. The texture was off, alien. Without a precedent anywhere in the great banks of his memory. He wondered what sort of measures had been needed to make it. That wondering was interrupted as Silenos moved onto another topic.
“This mace, you may all have noted, is made of similar material. All this equipment has been enchanted with potent magics of course, but none more than the weapon you see before you now. Upon impact it discharges a volume of kinetic energy comparable to orders of magnitude more than its own mass falling a distance of metres. Ensharia has tested it once, already, and found it able to break the bones of Shaiagraznian Named. Even the Godblade is a primitive, petty trinket by comparison.” As she said the last part, Silenos’ eyes fell upon Galukar with an undisguised relish.
The King, clearly, was not much pleased to hear the remark uttered in his presence, face contorting as teeth ground and nostrils flared.
“Not a bad weapon.” Arion found himself grinning. “I’d love to see what it could do in the hands of a man, with—” Silenos turned to him sharply, cutting him off with a raised eyebrow.
“I am a woman, now, which means that your primitive misogyny is now an insult to me. Repeat it in my presence again and I shall weld your testicles together.”
Arion was actually speechless for a few moments, the change in demeanour had come so fast. His mind scrambled for purchase until he finally managed to gain some level of cohesion. He used it to nod, and hastily spit out apologies while remaining suddenly, terribly conscious of his testicles as he did. Silenos was, fortunately, satisfied, she nodded and moved on from the fact without further ado.
King Galukar’s laughter rang out like the sound of Silenos’ cannon, and Arion found himself reminded in an instant of how little the old man thought of casters.
“What a way to find yourself returned to life, eh boy? Looks like your master is just as he always was—”
Silenos rounded on him next, somehow seeming less annoyed than when she did Arion.
“I am aware, Galukar, that your cognitive abilities are particularly limited, even compared to the standards set by the rest of my lieutenants. So I will give you three chances to mistakenly refer to me as being of the wrong gender. Once each of those has expired I will turn your digestive tract inside out. You may keep count of your mistakes if you wish, I shall not be helping you remain up to date on them.”
Galukar’s face darkened, veins bulging as he took a step towards her now.
“I don’t care how powerful you think you’ve become.” He growled. “You don’t speak to me like that, you don’t threaten me like that. You may have saved me, but that doesn’t—”
—”Ah yes, that reminds me.” Silenos noted, raising her arm—now a cannon—and blasting Galukar with some burning projectile so fast that it simply took the giant off his feet and sent him hurtling backwards to erupt through a half-collapsed stone column and bring the rest of it down with him. She turned to the group at large while Galukar lay convulsing in the rubble.
“I have upgraded my weapon, using a new mechanism to allow for greater velocity in its projectiles. As you can all see, it is extremely effective. Galukar most likely has several broken ribs as a result of its killing power. Do let me know if he seems to be at risk of dying.” Without another word, she turned and headed off. To where, or to do what, Arion could only guess.
He turned his eyes from Silenos, and the disturbing cocktail of emotion sight of her brought, and towards the prisoners. There was no shortage of them—the battle had ended in a single instant and with the bulk of both sides’ forces swearing fealty to the same figure. What was left of Aoakanis’ occupiers, mostly magi, had been swiftly restrained.
But it was only now that Arion recognised one of the faces among them, frowning as he did.
“Julius?” The boy’s face turned to his instantly, snapping to alertness as if the sound of his own name were a death curse.
He stared back, frowning, blinking. Gasping.
“...Arion?”
Arion made his way over, seeing the man more clearly now. He looked somewhat the worse for wear. Thinner, exhausted. Arion remembered the way he’d felt after his first serious fight, his first brush with death. He could empathise on that account at least.
“You…You’re alive.” Julius whispered. Arion felt a stab of something he couldn’t identify.
“I am.” He replied quickly. “I’m glad you are too.” Before his fellow magus could continue, Arion took his leave. He didn’t want to dwell on his life, and certainly not on his death. He wanted…
Fuck. He wanted something to eat.
***
Silenos lowered herself down into the chambers beneath Mortascia’s castle, feeling the mechanisms of her subterranean laboratory growl and pur as they carried her low. Not much longer now, she knew, and her hastily-reformed body would be a moot point. Not much longer now, and her research in the New World would all pay off.
The primitive elevator halted, shuddering to a stop. Silenos sighed out her exasperation. It truly was a simple mechanism, built in a hurry and with limited resources. By her estimates, she was already three quarters of the way down to her destination. Not worth the effort of fixing her lift. Not when she had a quicker way.
Blowing out the bottom, Silenos dropped the remaining few hundred metres and entered the chamber awaiting her. The Vessel was safely stored within.
Her trip back up could have been made by elevator, for most of its length. Silenos found herself eager to test the prowess of her new body instead. She had exerted a great deal of effort to adopt it, after all. Carefully Fleshcrafting her own musculature to remove her cerebrum and graft it into the empty cranium of the Vessel, then repair all the incisions which had been needed to do so. Already, she could feel the difference.
She squatted down, felt the painstakingly-grown musculature of her new vessel’s legs, and leapt. The ground exploded beneath her, such was the force, and Silenos heard her own tunnel collapsing in her wake as she shot upwards, burst through the elevator without the slightest damage to herself and continued several dozen metres more before her momentum was finally spent. She dangled in the air for a moment, considering the extent of her new strength.
It was within five percent of estimations, acceptable. Silenos reached out just as gravity got its hold of her, digging her fingers into the wall. Solid bone, all of it. Ultra-dense and able to withstand gunfire, but not the pinch-grip of her new form. It surrendered easily, letting her hang there for a single moment. Then she dragged herself upwards, flying another fifty metres before repeating the process.
Reaching the top did take her a considerable time, or at least a considerable number of actions. But she made all of them in less than ten seconds. Her body and mind now operated exponentially faster than even her previous war-form had, after all.
Silenos erupted from the elevator shaft like volcanic debris, feeling a strong wind against her face as she emerged and landing hard. The ground surrendered easily to her heels. Instantly, she was swarmed by a multitude of faces. Some with weapons raised, others recognising her more quickly and staring. It was Galukar, apparently not injured to any crippling extent by the cannon, who approached her first.
“You…Silenos, is that you?” His face was creased with concern. No doubt, even he could recognise her glorious new form’s power.
“It is.” She confirmed. Galukar’s frown deepened.
“Why do you look like my daughter?”
“What you see before you now,” Silenos announced, “Is the pinnacle of biomantic knowledge. A body made of tissues replicated with the Godblade’s magical effects, merged with the purestrain vampiric prowess of Lilia’s own lineage, perfected in a hundred other, smaller optimizations and designed for perfect efficiency. I am, now, the single most potent being in the history of this planet.”
Silenos had expected even Galukar to be surprised by that, to be impressed and awed. Surely even he would understand something as basic as what she had just explained. But he merely stared at her, eyes dull, shaking his head and frowning.
“But why my daughter?” He asked.
Silenos rolled her eyes. She likely looked similar to Felicia due to having used the tissue of her father—Galukar—in creating this body. But she could not be bothered to explain as much. Silenos simply moved on without a word.
“You are back, caster.” Silenos took a moment to realise it was the hybrid’s head speaking to her once more. “Now kill me.”
Silenos took it out, eying it. “I will do no such thing, you are far too valuable.” A deep, sullen moan escaped the head. Then she felt its magic coiling.
***
Silenos Shaiagrazni just disappeared, in a flash of light. Collin stared at the spot she’d just been occupying, waiting for her to come back. She didn’t. He looked around, locked eyes with all the other, equally stunned subordinates she’d spent the last hour yelling at, and groaned.
“Fuuuuuuuuck! Not again!”
