Battleforged
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Chapter 484 - A Feral Greeting
🕑 Added 2024-12-16 04:00:02 +0000 UTCA/N - Intimate moments in the early part of the chapter.
By the time Eric came back to himself, his arms were filled with sweetness. He was humbled by just how strikingly beautiful the fey, sensual beauty wrapped up in his arms truly was. Natasha’s features were flawless, exquisite. She looked as innocent as any college freshman, and not like a centuries or millenia old titan who had been hiding her strength her on Earth, playing a long game of one sort or another… just as his mother had. Just as the goblins had. Just as so many factions clearly had.
His heart ached in his chest as the moonlight caressed his lover’s skin. A tiny corner of him felt guilty for all that he had lost, all those he had been unable to save.
But he had done what he could.
Over and over again, he had done what he could.
Even if that meant warping reality sufficient to bring an entire lost race of elves long since thought lost to a new home. A home where even the spirit of another woman he could have loved could rest easy. Her and her friends.
He had forged the desperate pleas of millions of souls into reality. Not once, but twice over.
Thrice over.
He had done what he could.
Now, he would do something for himself.
He couldn’t help himself, gently kissing those soft, rosebud lips, only for Natasha’s eyes to spring open as she wrapped him up in her arms, laughing like a schoolgirl.
“Thank you for the appetizer, my beautiful elven prince.” Her sultry gaze revealed a wicked hunger with her smile. “Now give me the main course.”
So he did.
Sharing sweetest rapture and shockingly intense bliss.
Without giving a single iota of his essence or more than a handful of experience points to this succubus queen.
Though he gave her plenty of other things… at that point paying no mind to long term consequences at all.
His goal was sweetest passion alone.
He was almost surprised to see her blushing so sweetly, like a demure schoolgirl, come first light, after everything they had done… Natasha looking so adorable when she bit her lip and presented him with a priceless golden key.
But not so gold that it didn’t instantly disappear in his ES space in the blink of an eye.
“Are you sure I can’t—” Natasha blinked. “You’re fast.”
Eric grinned. “And you’re incredible.”
She positively beamed at that, wrapping her arms around him with surprising tenderness.
“So, you like me then?”
“Hell yeah.”
She chuckled softly.
“Will my prince be back to claim his treasure?”
Eric answered with a soft kiss, humbled to see the vulnerability, the uncertainty in her gaze.
Which made absolutely no sense. She was a centuries old vampire queen who was both stunningly beautiful and shockingly powerful with her own little pocket realm! Why would she stress over what some hot-blooded young Contender did or didn’t do after a single night of mutually enjoyed passion?
He gently stroked her cheek. “I will.”
She squeezed his hand. “I hope you can do it, Eric. Claim all five keys.”
“So do I.”
Her eyes twinkled mischievously. “And then you can claim me.” She wrapped her arms around him once more. “I’m very good at organizing things. I’ll be the perfect administrator for your growing empire.”
Eric blinked at this. “My empire?”
She snorted, giving him a jaded look at odds with her luscious physique and adorable smile. But all she said was, “Word gets around.”
He flushed. “Oh.”
“Eric?”
“Yes?”
She squeezed him tightly. So very tightly. Silver-tier limbs of steel squeezing him so tight that he felt a sudden spike of alarm. Had she been holding back, earlier? But Eve thought the whole thing so deliciously comical that she had actually awarded him a level! He had claimed a portion of Natasha’s potency, and she had somehow grown stronger for the submission. For surrendering a portion of herself!
For claiming just a tiny bit of his potency.
And so very much of something else.
He felt his cheeks flushing as wickedly sensual, knowing eyes locked with his own.
Clearly, some serious succubus queen kink was in play.
Yet he felt no spike of danger sense.
Just the husky words whispered in his ear that sent shivers down his spine.
“Thank you for your forbearance. If you had revealed everything you’re being accused of in certain circles… I would fear greatly for my city.”
Eric winced. “Yeah. My Interface warned me about that. There were two ways to claim New York. One would be wondrous, and the other tragic. So I went the wondrous route.”
He kissed her once more. Soft, then fierce. “I’m glad I did.”
Her throaty laughter washed over him. “Let me show you wonder, my prince. It will soon be the perfect time for you to claim a certain Enigmatic key. But we still have a short while to savor sweetest—”
The door slammed open, and all the wards and enchantments Eric had sensed Natasha put into existence with a Silver-tier wave of her shockingly potent hand the night before, but hadn’t cared a bit, being so focused on other things… all of it faded as if her spells had never been cast at all.
Or perhaps… the intruding party had been deliberately excluded from the wards?
Quickness check: Critical success!
Your new lover isn’t the only one who was holding back!
“My Queen, we have a crisis!—Oh dear.”
Iado skill check: Success!
Finesse skill check: Success!
You have drawn your blade so fast not even your lover can see it!
You STOP an inch before your prey!
Stephan, impeccably dressed in a carmine vest with a high collard sky blue shirt of finest silk and earth-toned brown slacks over polished black boots, glanced down, past the shriekingly sharp blade crackling with Bloodfire, at Eric’s far less well clothed form.
“You poor thing.”
Eric stiffened, cheeks flushing, instantly knowing what the courtier was referring to. “It’s perfectly normal sized.”
Yet the look in Stephan’s eyes…
Eric’s cheeks were burning. This was Bullshit! Artillery shells fired from siege cannons would bounce off his fucking chest! He could laugh in the face of any mage who wasn’t Silver, and he had to be insecure about this!?
“I’m half-elf, okay? And it’s perfectly normal sized! All my girlfriends told me so!”
He turned to gaze at the strikingly beautiful succubus looking so demure in the middle of her silk sheet lined bed, whose flawless skin, ruby red lips, sultry eyes, voluptuous body, and knowing smile was enough to set any man’s passions aflame.
“Tell him!”
Natasha Thorn, elder succubus and vampire queen, solemnly dipped her head, silky soft tresses of midnight perfection cascading down her shoulders like an elegant waterfall washing over voluptuous peaks that begged for Eric’s exploration even then.
“He’s right, Stephan. He’s perfectly normal sized.”
Eric’s eyes lit with triumph. “See? I told you! Now why the fuck are you here!?”
“Eric?”
“Yes, Natasha?”
“Please don’t kill my favorite advisor.”
Eric flushed, his crackling blade blinking back into his ES space as he summoned shirt and pants.
Natasha turned to the still flustered Stephan, patting out the sizzling burns marring his otherwise perfect vest. “Report!”
“Your Grace! Baron Mord and his men are at the gates! He is demanding a meeting with you at once!”
Natasha paled. “Shit.” Her eyes glittered as brilliant sapphire light washed over her… and the sensual maiden had been replaced by a sensual queen dressed in form-fitting Elementium field plate armor absolutely crackling with arcane enchantments. Upon her hip was the hilt of a sword radiating a potency and hunger that felt surprisingly familiar, resonating with Eric's Bloodfire blade enhancement, though the force shield that looked more high tech than magical was a bit unexpected.
“Okay, now I feel seriously under-dressed,” Eric quipped, whistling at the deadly queen manifest before him.
She flashed cute dimples with her smile and curtsy, effortlessly flowing movements that her armor hindered not at all.
“How do I look?”
“Devastatingly pretty?”
“Good. Exactly what I was hoping for.” She furrowed her brow, tapping her armored chin with a fully articulated Elementium gauntlet. “And now… how best to present you?”
Eric stiffened, thoughts whirling in his mind as he briefly considered half a dozen approaches… before his eyes locked upon that which he would affect absolutely every decision he made.
The odd heatwave in the air. Or perhaps… a ripple. As if calm waters had been disturbed.
And it was right where his blade had flared, for a single heartbeat, with a tiny portion of his essence. Not even a full rank, for Bloodfire alone had flared across his blade.
“Natasha…”
“We’re pressed for time, darling,” she said, the first hint of impatience in her voice.
“Just how fragile is this pocket realm?”
She froze at his words.
“Sorry, what I mean to ask is… how safe is it to use Essence Abilities here?”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “You have access to… and you haven’t even formed a core!”
She shook her head, bemused smile showing the tightness of worry only in the tiny creases by her eyes… features that could so easily pass for 18 but were probably closer to a thousand gave a slow shake of her head.
“But of course you do. As I was shown quite thoroughly last night. Properly put in my place. But best you not use any other such talents at all, darling. I’m afraid this realm is far more fragile than you or I… save for entirely internal and deliciously consensual arts, of course,” she said with a knowing smile for a blushing Eric, subtly acknowledging how, exactly, he had bested her with his Burst of Strength.
Because no one was doubling over 1400 Strength without essences being involved in there somewhere, he was sure.
She then frowned at the ripple. “Stephan, dear?”
“Yes, my queen?”
“Please avoid that patch of air, right in front of you. In fact, best if you take a step back… no don’t go all pale and faint on me, I need you upright and focused! Show me your best, Stephan!”
The man flinched, eyes wide with horrified dismay as he took three steps back, right out the door, before saluting. “Yes, my queen!”
Eric scowled. “That wasn’t even an essence attack.”
This earned a snort. “Then I can only imagine how potent your crimson flame must be.”
Eric shrugged. “Sliced through a couple flying squid a ways back, so… whatever that equates to.”
Natasha froze. “You aren’t perhaps speaking of the air titans that have absolutely terrified all of Lord Song’s aerial scouts that don’t dare travel more than a single territory North, save for when Lord Song himself accompanies them?”
Eric grinned. “Well good for them, because they’ll encounter vorpal phasing bats and displeased dragons who are really, really not happy with Lord Song if they go too much further.” He held up a finger. “But that’s no longer the case.”
“No?”
Eric grinned. “I’ve been doing some renovating and I’m happy to say that the skies are much clearer, at least in some of those regions.”
His lover stared at him for long moments. “Because of the blade you put before my poor, fragile seneschal’s neck?”
He winced. “Yeah… but that’s different! Stephan saw me at my smallest. Four feet of soul-bound mithril. He didn’t experience my blade at full extension.”
“Which is…”
“Four hundred feet. Because it’s a grower, not a shower, just like me.” He glared at the trembling Stephan. “Perfectly normal sized!”
“Eric?”
“Yeah, beautiful?”
Natasha flashed a winsome smile, suddenly before him, crackling elemental gloves not hurting at all when she gently stroked his chin. “There’s only one blade that I wish to see at full extension within my kingdom, Eric. The one that you put to such brilliant use that I’m still breathless! It is my sincere hope that you will only use the other one when you’re proving to the world what a wonderfully daring boy you are… far, far away from my fragile kingdom, and the other realms whose fates are inextricably tied with my own.”
She bit her lip so fetchingly he just had to kiss it.
“Can you do that for me, darling?”
Eric swallowed the lump in his throat. So very hungry for the beautiful succubus that he wanted on that bed right now… but wise enough to be bound to no unnecessary oaths.
“I promise to do my best to avoid it at all costs… unless my life, or your own, or someone else I care about is in jeopardy. I’ll do my best to leave the cleaving for outside… I’m assuming Lord Song’s ‘layer,’ the topside version of New York, is bound to reality strong enough that I can go hog-wild there without any problems?”
Natasha’s eyes widened. Cheeks blushing. “So, I’m precious to you already?”
Eric flushed. “I mean, I was sort of holding you in my arms enjoying happy times with you for the entire night, and I love the way you feel when I’m just spooning you while you sleep so… yeah… maybe? Besides. You’re the mother of two of my closest friends and that feels so fucking odd to say, so I probably shouldn’t. The point is, Alice and Morlekai would never forgive me if I just let you die when I could have unsheathed my blade and just cut someone or something in half.”
He glared at the trembling Stephan once more. “Because I’m very GOOD with my sword!”
“Forgive me, Prince Silver!” Stephan said, falling to his knees.
Eric groaned. “Fuck. My cover is so, so blown. I hate that.”
Natasha chuckled softly. “I’m afraid so, darling. I’d be very surprised if you weren’t the talk of the town.” Her bemused smile hardened. “And now we really must be going.”
Eric nodded, thoughts racing as his thoughts clicked into place. “Alright, I know my role.”
This earned a raised brow.
He grinned. “I won’t hide my status. I’ll flaunt it. I’ll disavow the Ernest connection… no, even better, he escorted me to establish negotiations with New York, and why wouldn’t a once spoiled New York socialite, part of Hollywood royalty, want to get in with an incredibly hot succubus queen with the best nightlife I’ve seen anywhere so far?”
Natasha blinked, then smiled, showing off her adorable ivory white fangs biting a lip that she could use to such devastating effect. “I think that should work quite well, Eric. In which case, you’d best dress… ah!” Her eyes twinkled. “Your attire now looks the mirror image of poor shell-shocked Stephan. The perfect 19th century playboy. Shall we?”
Eric grinned. “Let’s.”
And together, the three proceeded up the elegantly appointed corridors, past any number of anxious looking courtiers done up in silk and lace and all the high fashion as well as grim-faced sentinels wearing the eternal classic of high grade tempered steel with poleaxes in their hands and arming swords at their hips.
In less than a minute the Dutchess had swept into the central courtyard, the portcullis raising with a single imperious wave of her hand, the courtyard looking nothing like it had the night before.
The crowd of socialites and up-and-comers was long gone. In their place, standing with ill patience upon courtyard flagstones and lawn were no less than a dozen powerfully built eight foot tall giants. All of them were sporting thick fur from between the two piece suits they wore. Their bowling caps were securely in place, wedged between massive, fur covered ears. Not a one lacked a sword cane in their hands and not a one wore boots or shoes or anything below the pant cuffs, save for their thickly padded hairy feet.
Eric furrowed his brow, more surprised than he wanted to admit to find that these were the farthest thing from low level NPCs or the equivalent. They were all sentient beings that he was quite certain would exist quite fine outside a delve, as he had been forced to accept was true of everyone within this layer of New York, that he was now sure was the farthest thing from a dungeon with the echoes of once living souls or beasts made out of wild planetary essence that could never leave a delve.
No. These were most definitely living, breathing, sentient beings, and the world could so easily be their oyster.
He could sense a coiled power trapped within each of their massive, hairy frames, and all but one of them had ascended all the way to Bronze.
The earth quaked as the largest of them all stepped forward, holding a groaning, battered and bleeding man who looked a single wheezing gasp of breath away from death.
Eric’s heart began to pound as his former lighthearted mood and demeanor instantly crystallized to predatory focus and lethal intent. For the largest man among them wasn’t Bronze, but Silver. And the dying man he held in a single powerful grip, as casually as another might hold a sack of trash, was none other than Jim.
And that wasn’t all.
The giant before him wasn’t just a Silver radiating the sheer savage power of a werewolf.
He was also a Contender.
The challenger flashed his killing aura.
Eric stiffened, Identify pinging with basic information that didn’t require any skill check at all, or give away his own ability to do so. And their challenger had cloaking arts besides… arts which he didn’t dare probe, when he sensed that they were all on the razor’s edge of explosive violence.
“Shit. Level 11 Silver Equivalent? He’s as strong as me!”
Words muttered under his breath, and they were a lie. Because there was a world of difference between basic stats, and he had no idea what his possible opponent’s actual attributes were, yet... and years of developing shockingly potent skills through Mastery of Bronze and unthinkably powerful Silver-tier skills.
Eric swallowed the lump in his throat as over a dozen armored soldiers crashed to the ground, more than one crying out with dismay.
He did not want to fuck with this creature without being 100% focused and prepared… and only if he could strike with everything he had without reservation. Before his foe could unleash whatever deadly trump cards he no doubt had.
The pack of predator’s before Eric and his partner sneered.
“You know why I’m here, Natasha.”
The man’s powerful voice echoed endlessly in the air.
Eric grit his teeth, sensing the echo resonate through the fragile ether far more than it should.
Even this monster’s roar might endanger a realm far more fragile than Eric had truly appreciated.
Until now.
The tension spiked as hot glaring eyes fixated upon the duchess, who only then gave an infinitesimal nod of her head. “I do.”
The giant casually held up Tim even now spurting blood from half a dozen gaping wounds, now sobbing uncontrollably. “I was content to give you until the new moon, until your toy dared to trespass upon our territory! This offense demands immediate recompense! Time is up, baroness! You will give us the key NOW, or I will tear out the throats of each and every worm that inhabits this pathetic excuse for a city!”
Lady Thorn’s eyes flashed with deadly heat. “Careful with your threats, Mord. If you push my realm to the breaking point, I will stop holding back. And Contender you might be, but there is a world of difference between a Half-Step Silver and one who completes her first cord.”
Mord’s eyes flared with fire of his own as his underlings growled. “You think a handful of Silver ranks beats a lifetime of slaughter? I have the potency of a Dozen Silver Ranks, foolish bitch!” He glared at the broken, sobbing Jim in his hand, his lips curling into a savage smile. “Power I earned by slaughtering young punks just like this fool.” His eyes flashed. “Now, unless you would like to watch me tear out his throat and drain him of blood before your pretty little eyes… you will give me the fucking key!”
Natasha stiffened, glaring at the whimpering Jim. “I have no quarrel with you, Mord. As to why this wayward former employee was in your domain? I have no idea. He was supposed to be reaching out to contacts on the surface!”
Mord flashed a savage smile. “So. You’re saying I’m free to do whatever I like with him? Excellent!”
Jim’s eyes widened in panic, the arrogant condescending demeanor of before stripped away to reveal a man broken and vulnerable, in awful pain and in terror of losing his life. “Please, my lady! I was simply taking the back way through the realms! I did naught but step upon his territory for seconds!”
“Long enough for us to smell you, fool,” growled a nearby underling with a savage, toothy grin.
“Long enough for us to catch the trespasser and make him pay his pound of flesh!”
The air filled with the brutal men’s cold laughter as Jim whimpered in despair.
“Don’t let him kill me! I beg of you!”
Natasha’s nostrils flared with displeasure. “Forcing my hand, forcing me to lose face? So be it, Mord.” She crossed her arms. “I will tell you what you most want to know about the key you seek.”
Mord’s eyes flared with pleased vindication that soon became furious suspicion. “What are you saying, Natasha? No games!”
“I but ask that you adhere to the original terms of our agreement. And to leave that fool in you arms alive and in my care while you retreat from my territory until the new moon.”
Mord ground his powerful jaws, lip curling in a snarl. His hands tightened. The ankle in his hand cracked and Jim screamed.
Before being dropped in a heap upon the ground.
“Speak! If the key is upon you, then I will hold to our original accord… and ignore the trespassing of this fool. If the key is no more…” He clenched his jaw. “Then you will reveal EVERYTHING! So long as you do not lie, you and your city will be allowed to exist when I take over the five realms… though your people will be paying me and mine a bounty in flesh to go along with your quota of blood!”
Natasha held his glare for long seconds before dipping her head. “Acceptable.” She then closed her eyes and spread open her arms, the courtyard filling with a golden light and Eric felt a cold chill, sensing how utterly vulnerable Natasha was in that moment. Utterly naked, spiritually, before the entire world… her soul bare before them all.
Mord hissed and roared. “You have already surrendered your key!?”
Natasha, looking suddenly tired and drained, though no less exquisite and beautiful than she had just seconds ago, sighed and bowed her head. “It is true.”
“Who?”
Natasha swallowed and Eric understood what she was about to say and do, and why.
And he didn’t blame her one bit.
He even forgave her when she stilled her tongue with the gentlest squeeze of his hand against her arm.
Eric cleared his throat and respectfully bowed. “You might want to take a quick look on the surface layer, Baron Mord. Lord Song’s demense, to be precise.”
The giant snarled. “How dare you—“ His eyes widened in recognition and mockery. “Ah. I see! Already sending out feelers to the other factions, Natasha? That certain you would rule as queen?” He snorted. “I recognize this one. Eric Silver. Twin brother of Elonia Silver who shares pillow talk with Lord Caliban, the pair claiming multiple choice territories near Lake Erie.”
Eric calmed his racing heart, forcing a smile. “I fear you have the best of me, Lord Mord. Though it is true that I’ve arrived in New York, ultimately, to facilitate some fantastic trade opportunities, I find myself in the unique position to savor all of this city’s glorious… potential.”
Mord actually flashed a cold smile. “You mean the bedroom of a succubus queen.”
Eric winked. “Damn right I do.” He then mined a shiver. “Even if I did not expect to witness my beautiful partner for the evening being wrestled to submission by one of the deadliest Contenders I’ve ever seen. A Contender who forced the most intimate of concessions from my beautiful companion before claiming what I think might have been a real treasure.”
Eric gave the now crestfallen Natasha a gentle smile. “It’s alright. There wasn’t much you could do. I’m just glad you survived in one piece and that I survived, even being forced to watch while trapped in the same room!”
Mord stiffened, locking gazes with Eric.
“You’re a Contender as well, boy. You stink of power!”
Eric forced a chuckled. “The economic kind, perhaps. If power means having powerful friends who are more than capable of escorting their favorite sibling hundreds of miles in wild territory with enough Bronze revenants to be declared a Dread Lord… then yes. That’s power of a sort, I suppose.”
Eric carefully hid his smile at the way both Mord and Natasha blanched.
“But since we’re both Contenders… you know I’m not lying when I give you my oath that Natasha, my lover, was bested before my very eyes. She surrendered her key to the mercy of another. The other party eventually left the chamber of her defeat. Of course Natasha took what comfort she could from me, after being bested by her martial master.”
Eric’s solemn countenance met Mord’s own. “Every word I said was true. This I do swear. And if you should manage to come out on top of whatever game you New Yorkers are playing, I can assure you that Freetown and New Arcadia would both be very interested in establishing trade relations with—”
“Enough!” Mord raised his fist. Eric instantly silenced himself.
The giant glared for long moments before spitting on the sobbing Jim before turning around the way he had come. Only to spin around one more time, jabbing a finger at Natasha and Eric both. “You will reveal to no outsider our discussion, or warn Lord Song of what’s coming to him! To do so violates our… non-aggression oath. Are we understood?”
Natasha slowly nodded her head. “Yes we are, Lord Mord,” she assured.
Mord snorted and left without another word.
It was long moments before a haunted looking Natasha turned back around, her eyes filled with gratitude… and regret. “Eric, I—”
He cut her words off with a tender kiss. “It’s okay,” he winked, before whispering in her ear. “You can make it up to me later.”
She swallowed at that. “I will, Eric, I promise… Eric?”
But Eric was already darting forward, gazing down at the gasping body of a doomed Contender who’s pale features looked up at Eric with pain-filled despair, even as he tried desperately to hold together his own spurting wounds.
“I guess you get that easy kill--- ai!!”
“Seal!” Eric whispered in his softest voice. For Jim’s ears alone, so that no echoes would effect the fragile ether around them.
Yet it was enough.
Miraculously, it was enough as Jim’s eyes bulged as every wound upon his body puckered itself shut.
Eric frowned, sensing that Jim was about to crash despite Eric cutting off external blood loss, eyes about to role in the back of his head. “Give me permission.”
Jim took a wheezing gasp. “What?”
Eric sighed. “Permission to heal you. It will be much easier that way. Less chance of me fucking it up.”
The curly haired man whimpered, before jerking a nod. “Yes, Yes, thank you… oh god that hurts!”
But Eric paid no more heed to his words, commanding the man’s blood flood back the way it had come. Every last drop, flowing in reverse from the courtyard tiles back into the body from which it had come, Eric’s command permitting only the blood to heed the call of its master, leaving all the dirt and muck behind.
He took a meditative breath as blood volume was rapidly restored, silently bidding the formation of fibrin clotting factors to seal up countless wounds and injuries great and small, only paying attention to the interface messages flickering across his mind’s eye once the worst of the injuries, including the bleeding in Jim’s lungs and the brain hemorrhage had been stabilized.
Dominion’s Command (whisper) successfully compels your target’s blood to stop flowing out of far too many gaping wounds… without disturbing the fragile local ether!
Congratulations! Dominion’s Command is now Rank 9!
You have gained full consent from your target. Blood Mastery penalties have been mitigated!
Blood mastery skill check: Critical success! Rank 37 Blood Mastery allows you to reclaim all lost blood (inside the courtyard), seal all internal injuries, and stabilize your patient just as well as anyone who actually possesses healing gifts!
Eric sighed. Now all the man had to do was stay still for an hour, and being as they were both first generation classers… he’d be fully restored. Probably far quicker, assuming his Vitality was anything above 20.
But still… Jim was a fool for moving at all. Raising a trembling hand to touch Eric’s own.
Eyes filled with painful gratitude met his own.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now please just rest. You know about the hour reset.”
“You… you could have so easily claimed my life, and all my hopes and dreams would have been just ashes in the wind.”
Eric winced. “Yeah, well, us killing each other off just plays into our enemies hands. I’d far rather take on that asshole of a werewolf. Because we both totally know that that’s what he was.”
He sighed at the anxious look this earned him. “Look. Obviously our first impressions of each other sucked. So what? Back when life was sane, that would have resulted in snarky IM comments or a fight after school at most. But now we have swords and unchecked power and it’s not like anyone is locking us up for anything we do, and life has become so cheap and I’m fucking sick of it. So yes. Second chances for all of us, you know?”
Eric smirked at the strange look Jim was giving him, an odd mixture of wonder and horror. Strangely, not even his Social Perception could make heads or tales. Which wasn’t really surprising, because Contenders broke all the rules and Jim was a Contender whose gifts touched the social realm.
“As far as I’m concerned, a single shouting match between us doesn’t mean shit. Hell. It never even happened. Now get some rest, Jim.”
“Eric.”
Eric frowned at the desperate anxiety in the only slightly older man’s voice.
“What’s up?”
Jim closed his eyes tightly shut, tears mixing with the dirt and mud on his cheeks. “I fucked up.”
Eric’s gut clenched at those words. “Explain.”
Jim anxiously licked his lips, before groaning when seizing muscles cramped him as he desperately strove to stay still.
“Explain!”
“Morlekai, Alice, the others… they… we were ambushed by Lord Song’s men. I… I wasn’t fast enough to save them. I fucked up. I didn’t make my Perception check!”
Comments
Goldfish2
Also when the bell Eric can get more essences? Dam be the golden pheonix deciding others unworried. I recall systemio looking forward to other golden tier creations of Eric. So bro should be able to find a way to get more essences! Frankly the sharpness concept would blend well with his hot-cold ice-fire strike.
Goldfish2
Jim has indeed fucked up. I’m surprise it was mistake and not treachery but ok. Also is it cause the queen bared her soul which is most intimate for the werewolf to judge and see or was there wonky time shenanigans where the werewolf soul searched and scrambled the queen soul? Definitely ground of a death duel but neither Eric nor the queen desires destroying the realm and decided to bear the humiliation. Frankly morn is gonna regret that choice. Also seconds? How the Fck? We’re they always watching their borders hoping to take advantage of such a scenario? Probably powerful and capable enough underlings to stall champions for morn to then beat down.
