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Chapter 374. Blood Array
🕑 Added 2024-12-13 21:13:54 +0000 UTCMaria wasted no time. If Achemiss was in contact with a Regret practitioner as they feared and already knew she was coming, he’d naturally react if she was on the right track. She hoped he’d respond by attacking her.
As she approached the vulnerability and nothing changed, she wondered if she was up against another dead end. Ian had sent his mannequin constructs to flank her for this next stage of affairs.
Finally, she made it to the spot, the compass arrow swiveling in place. This was it.
I guess this doesn’t work, huh? she thought to Ian. He was being awfully quiet. Besides, if Maria was really going to destabilize the rift, she thought Ian might want to evacuate his pinnacle constructs.
That is yet to be determined, Ian said. You’ll see.
Breathing deeply, Maria empowered her leg with ascendant energy, concentrating a particularly potent razor-thin part into her foot. She kicked out with everything she had…
And nothing was different. She deflated, confused. Filled with a cold, simmering anger, she released a flurry of blows.
Wait, Ian said. Stop. Look at the compass.
What about it?
In a scenario, you get so pissed off you start shaking it. That’s when you notice what happens when you point it down.
Realization dawning, she snapped the compass open and angled it sideways. Her cold, nonexistent heart skipped a metaphorical beat as she beheld the arrow’s unwavering point.
How should I get down there? Maria asked.
With a little help, Ian said.
Not longer after, the first wave of Ian’s serpentine constructs began making their way over, joining the little smiling bone serpent. Many were coated in half-washed-away gore, making it clear that they’d fought their way over.
They tore into the sand, burrowing and digging rapidly.
And Achemiss is still doing nothing? Maria thought to herself, confused. As the excavation proceeded, Maria followed in the constructs’ wake, staring intently at the compass.
Oh, wow, Ian suddenly said. Maria, we’ve found it. In less than a minute, you’re going to find Achemiss’s lair.
And… he’s not there?
Not that we can see.
What do you think the chances are that he built his lair on top of the only veil vulnerability in this damned rift?
I agree with you that it’s obviously not a coincidence.
Ian, I really don’t like this. We shouldn’t be getting this close without provoking a reaction. He should have shown himself by now. She sighed. What happens when I try to tear the veil close to the veil vulnerability?
Nothing so far, he replied. Seems the same as before.
What am I trying, exactly?
You’re... I think just doing the same thing as before. Stabbing at the air, hoping for the veil to at least deform.
Maria frowned, pensive, as the sand continued to pile up on the sides, the way down revealed. She might just have to go down and see for herself.
When at last the tunnel was complete, Maria stared at the dusty edge and jumped down, brushing past the decemantic workers, who had pressed into the tunnel’s sides. Her undead body was still and calm as she dropped down into Achemiss’s workshop. Were she still human, she doubted she’d have been so collected.
Maria’s eyes ran over the space, her vital vision and heat sense confirming that nothing living–or even hot or cold–was within. Most light sources gave off some kind of limited heat, which suggested Achemiss’s lair lay in total darkness. Vital vision would allow the man to see, but it would never be a substitute for real sight. For most, it would have made for an uncomfortable stay.
For some reason, she doubted Achemiss was bothered by the dark.
There really wasn’t much within the room. The most conspicuous object was what could only be called a throne, for it was an elaborate working of wood, metal, and cloth. It looked outwardly normal, but Maria knew that wood was often a preferred substrate for necromancy. There were a few surfaces throughout the room, but all of them were empty and pristine as though they’d just been cleaned.
It feels like he’s escaped somewhere, Maria thought. Like he saw us coming, sent out his construct army as a distraction, and then fell back. All without revealing his End arrow.
Maria... you wouldn’t see his fate arrow if he escaped and you remained in the rift, right?
That’s right. But I don’t see how he could leave the rift without me seeing his End arrow. Besides, in a scenario we could easily test that. I could just kill myself and reappear next to you.
We didn’t test for that, though, Ian said. Eury said we just tried it now. You don’t see anything. There hasn’t been enough time for Achemiss to reach one of the neighboring rifts, so if he truly left, he shouldn’t have a way to obscure himself.
She approached the throne, the only object of obvious interest, and the compass’s arrow pointed forward. She stopped when she was just before it, her eyes taking in the detail of its make. It was exquisite.
And still, the compass pointed forward. She pushed her arm over the chair, adjusting the compass in her hand. Again, when she pointed it down, the arrow stiffened, locking onto the vulnerability.
Was it underneath the chair? Frowning, Maria hoisted it up, a feat only possible when she empowered her limbs with ascendant energy, and placed it to the side. She held out the compass again–
Only to realize that the arrow pointed to the left. She turned her head, not fully comprehending the significance.
Okay, you just found the vulnerability, right? Ian said.
Maria blinked. It’s on the throne?
Yeah. Except it’s not a veil vulnerability.
Then what is it? she asked, leaning over the chair.
I’m not sure. You still haven’t figured it out. Try tearing the veil–it won’t work.
Whatever this is, it’s clearly related to Achemiss, she replied, empowering her hand. She clawed the space above the throne, questing for a weak point, but like Ian said–nothing.
What if I just destroy the throne? Maria asked. Like, chop it in half?
Ian was silent for a spell. Apparently, doing that triggers a powerful soul attack. It kills you, and... Well, it knocks me unconscious, at minimum. Euryphel isn’t sure if it kills me.
Maria’s body tensed. What?
Achemiss must be hiding in a dilated space that’s anchored to the chair, Ian said. If you even try to move it out of the way, or cut the ground around it, the disturbance is enough to produce the same effect. The chair cannot be disturbed in any way.
Maria scoffed. That’s ridiculous. What is Achemiss going to do if I just camp outside of the chair, waiting? He’ll need to emerge eventually.
I have no idea, Ian said. Constructs are trying to get in from the outside, but my army is holding them off. I’ll send the mannequins down to accompany you.
Maria nodded, staring intently at the chair. So, she couldn’t disturb it... but what counted as a disturbance?
What about an End array? she asked. Does that affect anything?
Not that I can tell, Ian said. What are you thinking?
I’m thinking... that Achemiss is underestimating Ian Dunai’s lich, Maria said. Her eyes glowed as she leaned over the chair again, her smile eerily intense. We’ll see how he deals with all the soul fuckery I’ve picked up over the past years.
Maria’s rage had simmered for too long. Now, it boiled over, hot flames igniting into an inferno. Achemiss threatened to destroy their world. The only threat he recognized was Ian Dunai, but she would make him see the truth in the end.
It was Maria who would be his undoing.
She pulled a preserved corpse from a void storage–part of one of the half-living riftbeasts she’d killed just above. It fell on the clean floor, covering it in filth–sand, viscera, and a gritty, bloody sludge. Her smile refused to abate as she kneeled before it and withdrew a pen, plunging it into the dead flesh. When she retracted it, blood beaded at the tip.
She walked around the chair, thinking, considering.
Then, eyes glinting with malice, she pressed the pen to the floor and began to draw.
In Eternity, End was considered the weakest combat affinity. Nobody outright said it, but Maria wasn’t stupid. Anybody could weasel out of most powerful End bindings simply by committing suicide and waiting for Eternity to reform their body. She found creative ways to compensate for this weakness, but that only went so far.
Back in the real world, though? One where death mattered?
End was one of the most terrifying affinities of all.
Inexorable.
You may be a master of Death, Achemiss, Maria thought, the array unfurling out around the chair like a malevolent flower. But I’ll be the one to make sure yours is final.
If you don’t reveal yourself before I finish... there will be no escape.
She worked as fast as possible, her rage fueling a fugue state, one where the array practically drew itself. She couldn’t inscribe it in fire–that ran the risk of disturbing the chair–but this way was better, anyway.
Achemiss wouldn’t miss what she was doing if he had a way of observing his workshop, which she assumed he did. He would see her drawing in excruciating slowness through whatever dilation he was using.
He’d watch her write his death into the earth.
There’s no way he can resist leaving, Maria thought. He has to make a move. She kept a careful focus on the lich bond, prepared to reduce it to nothing at a moment’s notice. She didn’t think she’d be caught off guard with Euryphel’s Regret scenarios, but it was better to be prepared.
Her array was written with the assumption that it would have to take effect while incomplete. That was part of the beauty of it. That was one of the strategies she’d learned from Ancient Ash. If she engaged in fast-paced combat, she needed to create arrays that could put in work even if she couldn’t quite finish them. It was silly to complete 90% of an array, only for it to have no effect due to it being unfinished.
And with the blood coming from a Sun-aspected riftbeast, one tainted by Achemiss’s own hand... he’ll be in for a nasty shock.
Maria, Ian suddenly said over the bond, his thoughts filled with glee. You’ve done it. He’s coming out.
What happens?
Euryphel just said... He’s dealing with another emergency, but good luck, and well done. So I’m not sure.
What emergency could be more important than killing Achemiss?
No idea. But Achemiss is going to emerge in the next half minute or so. If you can kill him, definitely go for it. If you can’t, just knowing for certain that he’s in this rift is invaluable. One thing to be aware of—when he emerges, he has several constructs with him. According to Eury, one of them is probably functioning as his Regret practitioner. If you can identify which one, put them down.
I’ll do my best. I guess this means it’s time to sever the lich bond?
Yes. I’ll still be watching you from my mannequins, he said. The two mannequins in the room gave Maria small waves, and she rolled her eyes. But the ball is in your court now. I believe in you.
I know, she thought.
She mentally twisted the bond until it became thin and weak, tearing apart where it was pinched. It was so much easier now than before.
She knew that if she wanted, she was free. The bond was gone, unrecoverable, unless she went back to Ian and he restored it.
It was truly the ultimate sign of trust. It felt silly to think that way–wasn’t it a low bar to say that removing what was effectively a slave collar was a sign of trust? It just marked a return to how relations between normal people functioned.
No, it’s not that he removed it–it’s his thoughts around doing so. She could hear Ian’s thoughts, understand his emotions. The first time, he’d been nervous about severing the lich bond–both because it was something he’d never done before, and because he was sending her into danger while she held her own phylactery without any way to communicate with her.
Now, she felt his reluctance, and she understood where it came from. Still nervousness from losing his direct line of communication, but more than that... sadness that they wouldn’t be able to feel one another.
He would miss her, pure and simple.
She looked right in the eyes of one of the mannequins and smiled. She mouthed three words.
Soon after–earlier than anticipated–she felt her array activate, and the world exploded into inky, consuming darkness.
