Malcolm Tent
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Wish upon the Stars chapter 788
🕑 Added 2024-12-27 21:04:56 +0000 UTCWhen my eyes opened, I quickly realized nothing was different. That whole experience had happened between one blink and the next, too fast for even a C-ranker to notice. It was a little jarring, readjusting to the world so quickly, but I managed it in just a second or two, and was able to catch up as Echelon spat “Your pathetic poison won’t keep me from killing you and taking those items, boy.”
Remembering that I had been mocking him about his damaged eye, I picked the conversation back up where I’d left it. “Weirdly, I still seem to be alive. You waiting for some kind of celestial event? Maybe you decided to count down from a million?” He was clearly wary, unwilling to provoke me head on just yet, and I was fine with that.
While I waited, I prepared. Limbo roared to life inside me, smooth and easy, and with a second pull, Gluttony awakened in my gut. The strain was still there, especially with both of them, but it wasn’t nearly as debilitating. With Pride constantly weighing on the Ten Demons Tome, I knew I couldn’t keep this up forever, but I was pretty sure an hour wouldn’t strain me too badly. Granted, that might change as I pushed the domains further, but still, it was a massive improvement.
More than that, I realized something integral to this fight. Sammael was still active, and my base form was designed to amplify the physical capabilities of my body…which included how much energy my physical form could hold. Abomination Engine came to life inside me, revving up as it prepared to fuel my strength with the power of Gluttony, and I attacked.
Echelon, wary of me infecting more birds if he scattered, attacked head on, claws lashing out in some sort of quick, vicious martial art. The attacks reminded me of swooping birds, like a hawk descending to gouge its prey. With Mornax still active, my enhanced Impact for my rank, and my C-rank armor, I was able to deflect the blows, using limbo to eliminate the most dangerous attacks so the ones that landed were just glancing.
I could have focused entirely on dodging, of course, and probably avoided everything, but I wanted him to hit me. Every blow fed into Gluttony, revving the Abomination Engine higher, filling my body with unnatural strength.
My well of energy filled fast, the attacks of a C-ranker, even a very new one, almost too strong for my domain. Almost. I felt myself pass my previous limit, pass the level of strength I’d used even at my peak. The power built and built, and it never hit the limit I expected, never stopped enhancing me, until finally, I hit the wall at the peak of D-rank and couldn’t go any further.
A hundred thousand points, mostly in Might and Vitality. Despite the continued assault, my body couldn’t withstand the push to C-rank, and all the energy poured into the pit in my stomach and collected, creating a sort of reservoir that slowly filled, stockpiling strength for one big move later on. Which was perfect. With my power at peak D-rank, not to mention the buffs from Sammael, I was now matching Echelon blow for blow.
For the first time since reaching D-rank, I was well and TRULY capable of fighting up a rank. My armor was getting a little dinged up, since it was the same rank as my opponent and he could actually damage it, but the biggest problem was my weapon.
My staff whirled and struck like a cobra, but along the length of it, claw marks were scored into the wood, slashes from the C-rank claws of my enemy as he tried to tear into my flesh. I could feel the wood creaking, slowly coming apart. My weapon was dying, I could feel it, and it broke my heart because it had accompanied me through so much here.
This staff hadn’t been loud or flashy in its usefulness, and I’d been sparing with the use of its ability, but it was the pillar of support that had carried me through all the nonsense I’d encountered since I arrived on Rackham and even before that.
So I developed a plan. I triggered Dark Reflection on my staff, and False Fatality, my two skills for damage reflection, and then poured all that gathering power from Gluttony into the staff. After that, I used Afterburner on the whole thing. I felt the wood creak ominously, and I could see little flickers of green flame in the cracks, but it held together.
Then I started to let him get more hits in. A score to my arm, the side of my neck, blows that clearly convinced him he’s kill me soon, as his assault redoubled. I could see the psychotic glee on his face. C-rank wounds, even through my defenses and with all my enhancements, would take time to heal. He knew it too, he was planning to kill me like this, death by a thousand cuts, and I let him.
In my hands, the staff lay almost forgotten, not blocking, not deflecting, just shaking with suppressed power as all the energy from the damage I was taking poured into it. Gluttony was linked to the staff now, and all that power was brewing a hell of a storm.
Finally, I felt it reach the limits, and I dropped my guard completely, letting my head fall back, exposing my neck.
With a howl of savage victory, Echelon’s claws lashed out, burying themselves in my neck as he ripped out my throat…and the staff fucking EXPLODED. The energy of the domain, the two Skills, the staff’s nature, and the amplification of Afterburner all burst out with in a perfect hurricane of retribution.
In a moment, my body felt perfectly fine, all my wounds healed as the amplified power of the final gasps of my beloved staff mixed with my other abilities ripped away all concept of damage from my body and soul and slammed them into my enemy like a battering ram.
Wounds opened up all over his body, blood poured from his throat as it tore itself out, but more than that, the most devastating blow came from damage he wasn’t even doing to me. Because this particular attack was imbued with my most fervent wishes and all the power of my soul, it was a technique as much as anything, and even though I would never be able to use it on the same level without the sacrifice of my weapon and these perfect conditions, it was enough to form a new pseudo Domain.
“Fourth Circle of Hell,” I spat gleefully. “Retribution!” The soul strain of keeping up four pseudo Domains, not to mention Abomination Engine, Sammael, and Mornax, all slammed into him at the tail end of the attack, following the physical damage as one last gift from my devoted weapon.
I wasn’t at the peak of D-rank in reality, I wasn’t the Mightiest, didn’t have the most Vitality. But I could endure. I could withstand pressure and pain and damage that no one else could take. I could hold up under soul weight that would demolish lesser men, even ones of a higher rank than me. My soul was perfected two ranks higher, my Chronicle was designed to withstand the pressure. He didn’t have any of that going for him.
Echelon threw back his head and screamed, and for the first time in my memory, I watched the SOUL of another Ascendant SHATTER.
No resurrection, no secret moves, no healing. There was nothing that could fix it, nothing that could bring him back. The empty husk of the priest of Raxus fell to the ground, immobile and lifeless, even as his heart continued to beat, and I just stared.
My hands hurt. I dropped all the domains, all the power, and my body was aching all over from overstressing, but my hands hurt the most, the explosion of my staff having left slivers of wood in my joints where they’d been forced through the articulation in my armor. Blood seeped between the joints, and I fell to my knees, trying to collect the scattered remnants of my old friend.
We’d been through a lot together, my staff and I. It wasn’t the first weapon I’d lost, but it had served me well. Carried me through D-rank, through the siege, through my trials. It had been there with me, and even if it was a little stupid to anthropomorphize a hung of wood, it still felt right to express my grief for something that had done so much for me.
I slowly removed my gauntlets, picking out the splinters and adding them to the pile. At some point, Dom and Sable had come out, and they silently helped me track down all the splinters we could find, and the two metal end caps, and pile them all up in front of me.
In one final act of mourning, I put my hands over the pile, the black flames of Mephistopheles consuming the bloody scraps, and I blew the ashes out over the water, where the residual power of the Enshrining Darkness should keep them undisturbed for a long time. Then I flared Zagan, letting my hands heal, and slipped the gauntlets back on.
“Sorry,” I said quietly. “Needed to do that. You guys alright?”
They both nodded, seemingly unsure what to say. I imagine I looked stupid, cremating a stick, but I didn’t really care. Reaching into my ring, I manifested the wreath, holding it out. “You two decide who gets it. But I keep my bargains. An introduction to your elders might be useful if you’re up for that, but otherwise…you guys work for me now, right?”
Dom spoke up. “Intros are fine, I can manage that. And yeah, we’re on your team now. Contract is a contract. As for the wreath…” he looked over at Sable. “Give it to her. That golem protected us both, and I’d have been butchered in that fight without it. That was way beyond what I was capable of keeping up with.”
Truthfully, it was beyond me too. My tricks might have let me keep up with a C-ranker, but I wasn’t sure how I’d have managed to actually HURT him without my staff’s sacrifice. It reminded me a bit of Callen’s sword, and it reminded me there were more things in the world than just rank and stats. Ascendants were beings of stories and wonder, and symbolism could have real meaning. In some ways, my staff had given its own legend to save me, and I hoped I could honor that sacrifice in some way down the line.
Still, he was right to be grateful, and I respected the sentiment. I held the wreath out to Sable, who blinked at us both in shock. “That’s not…I mean…wow, thank you.” She took it gingerly, closing her eyes to try to feel its nature.
I don’t know how well she succeeded, but the attempt didn’t last long. She stashed it away in her own ring, nodding to us both again in gratitude.
“Well…” I said slowly. “I guess we still have a few more weeks in this place. Want to wander around and try to steal as much shit as possible?” I grinned at them from behind my mask, and they both brightened at the idea, especially Dom.
“Yeah, I bet there’s all sorts of valuable stuff around here,” he said gleefully. “Even if I can’t get the wreath, I can still make some money.” He didn’t mention the scythe, not that I’d have given it to him. I’d pass it to my grandmother to see if she had a way to help Callie use it. The ink stone would go to Black Sorrow, and my family would officially be free. As the thought settled into my mind, my heart soared. We still had months until the inheritance competition, and I had a very fast ship. Once I got out of here, it was time to start networking. I needed to build my faction if I was going to come through this in one piece.
Comments
Malcolm Tent
It's a purposeful thing. But he's not ready to do it yet. It'll add weight that he doesn't need. The higher your rank the less of an effect that has. That's why people fill the Chronicle at B-rank.
CringeWorthyStudios
I’m just kinda sad that he didn’t taunt Echelon with being the first event in his Chronicle. That said, how does that actually work? Is it subconscious? Does Shane now have to go and add “Obliterated the soul of a C ranker while less than a quarter of the way through D rank in single(ish) combat” to the weird soul book? I imagine this is significant enough to be one of the one hundred events, right? Thanks for the chapter!
Ramble
See, this is the bit that hasn't quite clicked for me. If an ascendant does something momentous but theres noone around to see it, do they get stats for it? Since there's no one around to witness and spread the story. And likewise, do you get more renown if there are more people?
Kevin McGuire
Welp Shane's stats are going to blow up after nor killing but shattering the soul of someone a rank higher.
