Malcolm Tent
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Wish upon the Stars chapter 847
🕑 Added 2025-03-20 22:54:13 +0000 UTCVeldran was able to find me the location of one of the C-rankers pretty quickly, mostly because they were already in Bonehook. After he gave us the name, I learned from Dayna that the C-ranker in question was a peak disciple of Verdyn named Argaunt, a master Archer who had perfected a technique that allowed him to charge up arrows basically as long as he wanted.
The technique scaled the shot for as long as he held out, but it also put a huge burden on the soul, so he had a ceiling on the peak explosive power of his shots. It was an interesting ability, and it sounded VERY familiar.
Namely, I was pretty sure that this was the archer who tried to snipe us back on the island. I was pretty positive he hadn’t been C-rank when he shot at us, mostly because I was pretty sure one of us would be dead. I could only assume he’d been on the way to break through and had stopped for a potshot.
I wasn’t too upset about it. He hadn’t actually hit any of us, just killed a Pale Man. As an Ascendant, one of the first lessons I’d learned was that today’s enemies are tomorrows allies. A backstabber like Travis was one thing, but Argaunt and I were established enemies, so what was a little attempted assassination?
It was something the mortal version of me would have been flabbergasted about, and it was odd to really think about how alien my current mindset was to the one I used to have. I was calm for most of the morning leading up to the meeting, stockpiling my scrolls after waking up and then spending time with my wife rather than worry about the upcoming talks.
Because Bonehook was an independent city, we were able to move around without too much worry, but due to the delicacy of the meeting, Argaunt refused to allow me to bring everyone along. Carmichael was allowed to come, as insurance, but other than him and Dayna, I was on my own for this little powwow.
We did not, however, meet at a bar as was usually the custom. Rather, we decided to meet at the Ghost Bone Tower. The tower was neutral ground, guaranteed by the boss of Silent Sorrow, and Veldran ws nearby if we needed to lie low. I could survive an attack from a C-ranker long enough to retreat, and Carmichael was adamant that trying to kill Veldran in his own house was basically impossible without a rank advantage.
Much like Callen’s sword nurturing and Gabe’s Adamant Path, Veldran practiced an incredibly limited form of cultivation, adding restrictions to his abilities to maximize the recursion and feedback to the areas he needed. I suspected now, with a better understanding of cultivation, that mythology had something to do with why this worked, but that was just a theory.
Veldran, however, wasn’t as limited as Gabe was. He COULD move to a new place, he would just be scrapping a lot of accumulated power and effort. My friend, meanwhile, had needed to meet extremely strict conditions to reach his current rank.
Fortunately, Gabe had told us recently that he’d managed to create his Solid Path. Now that he’d crafted a stable Skill from it, he no longer needed to worry about losing and having his cultivation destroyed. It would still be a pretty bad backlash, but it wouldn’t directly cripple him, just cause some painful injuries that would take a while to recover.
Argaunt arranged to meet us at around two in the afternoon the next day, alone. I was surprised that he chose not to bring someone, since ‘d been allowed to bring Carmichael, but I guessed he had reason to be confident. Thinking back, I wasn’t sure he had a Chronicle already before reaching C-rank, but he had SOMETHING. Maybe an item like the mask Zeke had made me to help withstand soul strain. There were a few possibilities.
Whatever the case though, at D-rank he’d been able to output one of the most devastating single target attacks I’d ever seen, and with a fifty percent bump in Impact going up to the next rank, I was pretty sure he could turn me into a greasy smudge on the wall without much effort.
We were meeting in a small conference room on the second floor of the tower, and we arrived first, getting a good seat with our backs to a wall. I wasn’t sure it would do any good, but it couldn’t hurt not to have our backs exposed.
Still, while we waited, I finally got a chance to talk to Dayna. “So…I’ve been meaning to ask. What’s a Heaven Murder Elf?”
She turned to regard me solemnly. “About what it sounds like. Certain species of elf and spirit have natural inclinations towards certain types of power. Dryads are good with trees, high elves specialize in forest magic, which is different in that extends to all plants but is less powerful. Naiads are abnormally skilled at using water abilities and techniques, because of their nature and because of recursion.
“Heaven Murder Elves are naturally inclined toward violence. If you can kill someone by performing an action, we excel at it,” her expression was blank, like she was talking about the weather. “We make exceptional assassins, but because of our penchant for deadly arts, our bloodline is considered something of a danger by most factions. Heaven Murder Elves are often killed on sight, and families have been known to be wiped out to prevent the trait spreading through natural reproduction.”
I flinched. “They kill your KIDS? Just because you might be dangerous later? That’s fucking heinous. What about the Fairieland? Surely the Queen doesn’t approve of literal genocide, can’t you go to her for help?”
“The Queen doesn’t care what anyone below S-rank does,” Dayna said flatly. “There are so many variants of elf she can’t be bothered. The high elves are some of her closest supporters, but the minor offshoots like my people…gods don’t become gods by being selfless and benevolent. They do it by being self obsessed narcissists who believe they have an inherent right to rule over everything, especially gods whose entire divine identity is based on authority.”
That honestly tracked with what I’d seen from the gods so far. The determination and charisma needed to become a god seemed to be a far beyond what normal people could manage, even S-rankers. Knowing what I did about the process of advancing through the levels, that didn’t surprise me.
Genius, drive, there were a lot of things that seemed necessary to become a deity, but almost any given S-ranker had to have those things to get as far as they did, and of the hundred or so active S-rankers in the five faction alliance, only a few of them had become gods.
It would be easy to look at the fact that there were six deities and a hundred S-rankers and assume there was a six percent chance of breaking through, but that was ignoring far too many factors. Age, for one thing. The three strongest gods, the Queen, the Emperor, and the Wishmaster, were all ANCIENT. Who knew how many generations of S-rankers had lived through their tenures as gods?
I wasn’t sure how old Black Sorrow and the Red Revenant were, but they weren’t considered baby gods like the Unity was, so I was guessing probably at least older than the current generation of S-rankers.
Anyone below Demigod was looking at a lifespan of less than fifty thousand years. As far as I could tell, once you passed the thousand point watershed, lifespan ceased to be an issue at all, or at least if it was it was a LOT less of one than it was for S-rankers. I’d never heard of a god dying from old age, not even in stories.
My train of thought was cut off by the door opening. I looked up sharply to find a tall man in a voluminous cloak entering, his narrow chin the only part of his face visible in the shadow of the hood. I hadn’t even been able to see that much at a distance, so I assume he had some sort of disguise or camouflage technique, but if so, he wasn’t using it to the same extent now. I stood, nodding to the archer. “Argaunt, I presume?”
His head turned, obviously focusing on Dayna. “Junior Sister,” he rumbled. “You seem to have lost your way.”
Dayna looked unruffled. “Lord Verdyn’s path is the path of the hunter, and to hunt one must abide by the rules of the sport. To butcher with no thought to gamesmanship or honor isn’t a hunt, but butchery. There is a place for such things in the Blood Wood, but those are the actions of a beast, and a beast will never rule where hunters dare to tread.”
“Your words are wise,” he admitted. “For the sake of the hunt, no methods are proscribed.”
I didn’t bother interrupting. Dayna clearly had somewhere she was going with this. “The hunt is sacred,” she intoned. Then she paused. “And yet, it is in danger.”
He cocked his head. “Danger? What could endanger the Wild Hunt?”
“Trickery,” she said bluntly. “Deceit. Raxus misled us. We knew that entry might result in some of us being stranded. You, Senior Brother, made that sacrifice. But this was predicated on the purity of the hunt. Plans for chaos and disorder are immaterial, but the duration of the hunt is a sacred time. But our hunt will soon be interrupted. The collusion with the void is deeper than expected. You saw the rain?”
He nodded. “Otherwise? Would I treat with prey in such a manner had I not noticed a flaw in this world? But while frustrating, this news changes nothing. The choice has been made. I have already reached my apex, and will never again improve. In such a scenario, neverending Void Children as prey is hardly the most unfortunate outcome.”
“But what if you could have more?” she asked intensely, eyes shining with fanaticism. “What if you could leave this place, join a NEW hunt. A better hunt. Where your prey would be the most powerful that the main universe has to offer. Would your honor as a hunter not demand you take up such a pursuit?”
He hummed with interest, then stepped forward and pulled out a chair. “It might,” he conceded as he sat. “Is there such a hunt?”
“Um, sorry to interrupt,” I said wryly. “But this seems like it’s skipping a big issue. You’d have to betray your god. Not to shoot myself in the foot, but that seems like it would be a bigger decision than you’re making it out to be?”
It was probably stupid to bring it up, but Verdyn and the Lady both struck me as not so bad as far as gods went. I had gotten a lot of help from the Lady, and I felt like I owed her…something. Verdyn wasn’t her, but he was on the same side. Dayna, to my surprise, didn’t seem bothered, more amused.
“Lord Verdyn doesn’t indulge in base sentiment,” she assured me. “As hunters, we are expected to use any means to subdue our prey. Do traps not use bait?: Even our fellow disciples are potential enticements for enemies. As I said, gods do not become gods by being benevolent. Lord Verdyn would sacrifice us without compunction to achieve his goals. Argaunt knows this, as he has experienced it first hand.”
He nodded. “She’s right, of course. Just as Lord Verdyn was willing to sacrifice me to this place, so too will I sever ties to pursue a greater hunt.” His lips peeled back in a wolfish grin. “And if defection gives me a more fearsome reputation, all the better.”
I paused. I’d forgotten about that. Switching sides was common for Ascendants, because defecting could seriously boost your profile. My dad had done something similar when becoming a devil. Blowing out a breath, I tried to ignore my discomfort with that idea. I’d just need to make the contract a bit more solid. “Well then, let’s talk about your terms.” I had a feeling this negotiation was far from over.
Comments
Malcolm Tent
nah it was a typo, that's supposed to say of lmao.
thaughton2
"our bloodline is considered something [] or a danger" [] = rotten? corrupt? malignant? evil? odious?
