Wish upon the Stars (Original Superhero cultivation sci fi litrpg)

[Malcolm Tent]

Standing at the bottom of an empty sea bed as dark water poured from the sky was a bit surreal. I'd expected to be coated and submerged in moments, but the downpour didn't seem to be touching the ground. There was a strange effect where the drops were hitting the air itself. Not like there was a platform or an invisible wall, but like every piece of sky was solid until struck and then returned to being normal air.


It created a stilted, jagged visual distortion that gave me a headache to look at, but it was pretty clear what we were watching.


"This is the void corrupting the dungeon. It's still pretty high up, probably because it's spread across the sky, but it's dropping reasonably fast. I'd give it a day or two at that speed," I took the risk of flexing Dantalion, and while it couldn't extend enough to map what was happening, I was able to use its calculating powers to do a quick timing check.


"They probably used the void shattering that ejected us into the Shallow to trigger this," Callie said grimly. "Creating a negative pressure on the other side of the Dungeon's dimensional barrier to attract the void energy in the ocean even through the barrier. It's like when an explosion displaces as air and it all rushes back in to fill the hole."


"Shit," I cursed. I turned to Dayna. "How will the other godchildren react to this? Some of them are stuck in here, they can't be ok with the Void doing this while they're still inside. C-rank void army or not."


She shrugged. "I wouldn't be. Nor would most of Lord Verdyn's flock. The Wild Hunt is sacred, not to be disturbed. Raxus and Hatescream are another matter. Stralthrem, the god of Dread Fabrication, is fairly mercenary, and will work with anyone that benefits him. If any of the gods were involved it would be those three."


I grimaced. I'd had very little contact with Stralthrem's worshippers, but none of it had been good. From what I'd seen, the Vanished Gods were mostly remote and kind of dickish. Delthrys and the Lady seemed like they might be decent, and I hadn't seen much of Verdyn, but he seemed like he might be tolerable. Hatescream and Raxus were huge assholes who deserved to die, and Stralthrem was apparently a divine sociopath, joy.


We didn't have time to worry about that though. I reached into my ring, pulling out the mirror, but my attempt to use it fell flat. With the void distortion around us, we had no contact methods. I grimaced and turned to Callie, whose current unsettling void connection was our only source of information.


"What do we do?" I asked her directly. "I don't know enough about this situation to make a plan. I need some kind of heading, some semblance of a clue for how we get out of this. Do you have any ideas?"


She frowned, pressing her fingers to her temples to rub them, and I stepped closer anxiously, worried I was pushing her to hurt herself. She realized what she was doing and jerked her hands away, shooting me a wince that I was sure was supposed to be a reassuring smile. "Use Piece of Mind," I told her worriedly. "A few parallels will help process. It's too much, right? Lots of diffuse information and its hitting you all at once?" I could feel a bit of what she was experiencing through the bond.


Nodding, she closed her eyes and I felt her trigger Piece of Mind twice. With three active versions of her brain processing the pressure seemed to ease. Her soul was under a bit of strain, but at our level, two parallels was child's play.


After she triggered the skill, she took a minute to sort it out. "We came in sideways," she eventually said. "Used a portal Celia made. But there should be an exit. An actual departure point. If I had to guess, it'll be in the main city, under the control of Skartaris the Weeper. Skartaris who has literally a hundred C-rankers working for him."


I cursed. I'd been afraid of that. I scoured my mind for any details that might be important, anything we could use to escape. Any reason I could find not to give in to the thought that I'd just doomed everyone I love to becoming void snacks. Finally I remembered something. I turned to look at Carmichael. "Why were you fighting the Abyssal Lord? Skartaris puts on a front, but he seems like he's well aware of the Void's influence here. Why fight with them? You weren't a City Lord right?"


He shot me a sharp look, studying my mask, but since it was blank wood he didn't see anything, and he eventually shook his head. "No. I don't work for Skartaris. I work for Silent Sorrow."


Dezcarta gasped. "The Resistance? Dad what the fuck? Do you know what they would have done to use if they found out? How the hell are we alive right now? And how did you know?" Her tone was demanding as she spun on me. "You didn't seem surprised he said that."


"This place fucking sucks," I said bluntly. "It's a literal misery factory. I'd have bet my left arm that someone here was trying to stand up for the people Skartaris is torturing. But I also had a bit of a hint. The Ghost Bone Tranquility Tower. The tower master helped us, despite being ostensibly on Skartaris's side. We were actively working against the void, even if we didn't really know it yet. The Tower is a front for your group, isn't it?"


Carmichael grinned. "Smart boy. Normally I'd have had to kill you for figuring that out, but given the circumstances I think I can let it go."


It hadn't been me, really. Or not entirely. Dantalion had been active multiple times during this trip. Even when I didn't come to direct conclusions, I still internalized the data gathered, and the form helped me process data I'd already had. It had been hampered by the void energy and the fact that I couldn't use it much given the distortion, but it had still been plugging away at little details and problems I hadn't even realized I was thinking about.


He turned back to his daughter. "As for how you're alive, I imagine the boss swept my involvement under the rug. C-rankers are hard to come by here, and ones like me outside the general system are even harder to find. It DOES happen, even if it's rare, and he used me for a lot of sensitive missions. It would be just like him to watch your back after I was gone. I'm guessing your appointment to City Lord was much smoother than most others. You're young for a CL."


She frowned, presumably at the idea that she didn't earn her position, and he waved a hand. "Not saying you got a handout. C-rank isn't something everyone can do. Solid Paths are a pain in the ass. I'm just saying he might've put a thumb on the scale."


"So…we need to head to the tower?" I asked, getting him back on track. "You made it sound like external C-rankers aren't the only ones on the payroll. How many of the generals does Silent Sorrow have access to." I was starting to come up with a plan, but I needed to know if it was doable.


"Not enough," he said bluntly. "Maybe thirty. Could have fluctuated a bit in either direction, I've been gone a while, but the protocols for flipping a C-ranker or turning a potential are exhaustive. If Skartaris got word of what the boss is doing, a lot of people would die."


I noted that despite the tower being confirmed as a hub, Carmichael had never actually said the NAME of the tower master. In fact, I hadn't heard it anywhere. I'd heard that he was Skartaris's right hand, but it was possible they meant he was part of some kind of inner circle. Maybe they didn't even KNOW who was in charge.


But thirty C-rankers, while substantial, wouldn't be enough to take down sixty. At least not NORMAL C-rankers. I grimaced, considering my options. "I think we need to find the godchildren." I said after a minute of reflection.


"You want to flip them," Callie said skeptically. "You really think we can?"


"I think asking them all to spend their lives in here and asking them all to lock themselves in with an army of void creatures are different things," I said with a shrug. "I get the feeling Raxus didn't exactly share the immediacy of his plans with them. At least not all of them."


Chelsea cut in. "Ok, but why would they help us? They can't leave. If they do, they'll die, so if they side with us they're risking turning the central authority here against them, not to mention pissing off the Void Child and its spawn." She was right. We were operating on incomplete information. We didn't know what was going to happen when the Shallow consumed the dungeon. Maybe they would be welcomed by the Abyssal Lords and the incoming Void Children as the army grew.


Hell the C-rank Void Children would need to be able to escape, so maybe the Shallow would stabilize to let them out. But we had another card to play. Several S-rankers waiting outside for a big fight. If they came out with the Void Children they were risking death.


I reached into my ring and pulled out a scroll. "Yes, leaving here is impossible," I said smugly. "Or at least, it should be. We've seen powerful Ascendants drop and then regain Impact before. I can't trade Impact unless the other person has an excess, but I bet I can suppress it. We give them a way out. A clean exit and a job working for us. They won't be able to double cross us if they use their employment as payment. Two birds, one stone."


She froze, staring at the scroll, and her face lit up. "That's brilliant! I didn't even think of that. It also solves your recruiting problem in the same stroke. We still need a sizable chunk of C-rankers for the succession war. Thirty to forty should be MORE than enough. With all your A-rank slots filled we just need to find some more B-rankers."


"We can help with that," Sable said. "If you have that many C-rankers on the payroll, my grandmother will definitely sign up."


Dom nodded. "My ancestor too. And he might even commit a few other high ranking clan members. Plus you still have your intro with the popsicles. This actually might turn out to be a lucky break. Getting enough people in a short time would have been tough. You might get as big a bump off pulling this off as you would killing that C-ranker."


I had to make some time to leak that information, actually. The Ghost Bone Tranquility Tower could probably help with that. I hadn't gotten an influx of points in a while, and I was betting all this would net me some serious income. I was going to need it. I had almost given up hope of breaking through to C-rank during this mess, but I could still prepare to do it during the succession war.


"So, I guess we need to head for the nearest Ghost Bone Tower then," I said as I looked around. "I do have one question though. Does anyone know where the actual fuck we are? Because this whole area used to be ocean, and I have no clue how to get a heading here."


Everyone looked around in helpless confusion, and I sighed heavily. "Yeah, I was afraid of that. Let's head for the tallest nearby landmark, hopefully we can find something tall enough to catch site of the shore." And hopefully we didn't run into any horrible Abyssal sea creatures waiting out in the sands. Desert and ocean all in one, lovely.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The sea bed was…unsettling. The sand was black and crystalline, with strange purple flickers dancing across the surface of the grains when we looked closer. When we first emerged, the plants and coral around us had just seemed like normal sea bed stuff, but the longer we looked, the more upsetting it became. The coral twisted into unnatural shapes and the plants twitched and jerked when they sensed they weren't being looked at.

Among the forest of rocks sound echoed strangely, skittering and scratching bouncing off the walls of the formerly undersea canyon as THINGS darted just past the edge of our vision.

To keep us all safe, I triggered Murmur, covering the whole group, and as I did, I hung back to check in on Elena, Vesper, Ray, Desria, Chess, and Cavallo. It had been nonstop chaos since the rescue, and I hadn't had time to make sure everyone was alright. Bella had stayed with them, and they all seemed to have calmed down a lot on the walk, which was frankly astounding considering the shit that had been going on.

"Hey guys," I nodded as I fell into step with them. "How are you all doing? Sorry it took so long?"

Elena shook her head. "No. Don't apologize. This whole mess is our fault. I can't believe you came here to rescue us. I mean, we're friends, and we went through some things together, but this is above and beyond."

I shrugged. "You guys would do the same for me. And if you wouldn't don't tell me about it, that would bum me out." They all laughed, and some of the tension drained away. I was glad. Keeping score wasn't for friends, it was for business partners. That mercenary 'everything for benefits' attitude was part and parcel of the WCP, but that wasn't me. "How are you guys? It didn't exactly look like a picnic down there."

"No, though there were ants at one point," said Ray dryly. "I'm pretty frustrated by the whole thing, but we do appreciate the help. Seems like every time you get pulled into my business we end up butting heads with Raxus's people."

"Well, he's a dick," I said with a shrug. "I wouldn't worry too much. He's gotten on the bad side of some scary people. Let them deal with him. Des, Cavallo, how about you two? I know Chess has been too busy flirting with my apprentice to dwell," I turned my head slowly to regard Chester, making it clear I was watching him.

Bella sputtered. "Master! It's not like that! We're just friends, and you need to stop butting into my romantic life."

"You realize that you just contradicted yourself?" I pointed out helpfully.

She glared at me. "You realize shut up?"

I snickered, but my face went serious as I sensed something. "Stop!" I snapped loudly, and everyone came to a halt. Murmur was a combination Dantalion and Bael, but it was condensed and geared more toward the physical. The void static in the air didn't interfere too much with pure stealth, and even less now that most of it was raining down from the sky. Because of that, I could actually detect physical signs in the area through my domain.

Something was coming, something big. I kept my hand up, waiting and listening. The shake of the ground, the ripple of sound off rock, I was erasing all the signs of our passing, so detecting the signs of something else was doable.

It was coming from the left, and I looked over, as a greyscale form slithered past a rock, emerging from behind the stone in a sickly, twitchy, serpentine jerk that hurt to look at. The first thing I noticed was the size. The monster was C-rank, and HUGE. It was a disgusting slimy grey, with wet looking skin clinging tightly to an emaciated body that had WAY too many bones. It was build like a person in terms of shape, but the number of bones reminded me more of a centipede.

Despite all the bone, the skeleton seemed to warp and contract as it moved, allowing the limbs (too long and with eight clawed fingers each) to writhe and jerk in nonlinear ways. Its face was a nest of disgusting tentacles, all of varying widths and lengths, and a pair of burning red eyes glared out from inside, hidden in the darkness of the tentacle nest.

It slid along the ground toward us, swerving as it went like it was a dog trying to find a scent. Everyone tensed and Abel clenched a first, but I cleared my throat. "Stop," I told him again. "It's fine. Carmichael, if it notices us can you take it out?"

He shook his head. "That thing is peak C-rank," he said in an urgent whisper. "It'll butcher us. Unless you think your….giant rock monster thing can stall it."

"Not this time," I said with a sigh. "The godchild was newly ranked up. We can't take a peak C-ranker." Not yet at least. Once we were somewhere safe and had leaked the C-ranker kill, I needed to check my points. Hopefully all this chaos had gotten me a nice bump. "But that's not the issue. This thing is easy enough to avoid, it won't see through Murmur, not a bit of time for it to sink in. But why is it here? How did it find us?"

Callie cursed. "You think they alerted the Abyssal Lords. They contacted all the sea creatures still down here to have them look for us, didn't they?"

"It's what I would do," I nodded. "But that's going to make escaping tough. If that's an Abyssal Lord, there might be more. If one of them trips over us we're fucked. We need to move SLOWLY and methodically. I want everyone to follow me, don't deviate at all. Just do exactly as I do." I gestured for them to come after me, heading around the side of the monster.

It loomed over us, face jerking back and forth, sometimes coming within a foot of one of use, tentacles snapping so close we could feel the wind on our skins. I just ignored it, leading my people around and out of the canyon. I used Murmur to check the environment as we went, and soon enough I managed to find a path we could use to get up on top of a nearby rock formation.
I didn't know if that rock was going to be high enough to see the shore, but since the rainline above us was dropping slightly every minute we waited, I knew we didn't have time to be picky.

We reached the edge of a plateau, and had gone about halfway around when I stopped and palmed my face. "I'm an idiot," I announced loudly, turning to look at my friends. They all came to a stop, waiting for whatever crucial detail I'd missed.

"Well we knew that," said Abel. "But refresh our memory, what specific idiotic thing are you thinking of right now, there have been so many."

I flipped him off, then triggered Agares. Reaching out with the energy, I dissolved a few feet of rock off the plateau and reshaped them into a crude staircase. I rehardened them and then mounted the staircase, gesturing for the others to follow. I appreciated their attempts not to laugh as they climbed up behind me…mostly.

When we reached the top, I narrowed my eyes, gazing out across the sea of black sand and twisted rocks. Off in the distance I could see a line of hill that clearly ended at the top of a slope that I was sure was the shore. I tried to estimate the distance based on the height of the plateau and winced. "Alright, it looks like we're about a hundred miles out." In between the stones, I could see whipping, jerking shadows. Abyssal Lords searching for us.

I grimaced, trying to think of some way to get there fast. We didn't have time for this. The longer we stayed out here the closer this place came to being consumed. I was pretty convinced we had no chance to stop it, but escape was on the table if we could hurry up, but the C-rankers would make quick movement through the distance impossible, and by the time we got out we'd be screwed.

C-rankers couldn't enter this place, just like they couldn't leave, but once the Shallow consumed the dungeon, the latter would cease to be the case, and I was pretty sure the former would stop being an issue too. Not only would that mean we'd be stuck in here with a void army, it would mean we'd lose our leverage to flip any of the godchildren.

Abel stepped up beside me, shading his eyes with a hand. "I think I might be able to get us over there," he said after eyeballing the distance.

"What? How?" I asked excitedly.

He shrugged. "The Ragam Blood Body is the secret technique I created to optimize the Infinite Blood Sea, but it's not the only way to use it. I do paths of spatial lubrication all the time. I could use the blood sea for the same thing. I just need a little help actually creating the path. Also concealing it. Can you help with that?"

"The second one, yes," I nodded. "I can use Beelzebub to send some of my clones out as relays to connect a long form version of Murmur. With just a path to cover, it should be doable, if somewhat exhausting. But I can't help with structuring it, and if I'm going to cover it with my domain it needs to be homogenous." I glanced over my shoulder. "Bethy, you think you're up to helping with this? I know you got injured."

She snorted, taking her place next to us. "Pshaw, I'm fine. But we gotta work quick, ok?" We both smiled at her, and she grabbed Abel's hand. "Alright, everyone hold hands!" Abel tried to protest but she pouted at him and he rolled his eyes. I think he still appreciated the save from Sebastian. He sighed, then grabbed my hand, and I chuckled as I focused on the task at hand.

There was a ripple, and a red path began to manifest, a flat distortion of blood in the air. I triggered Beelzebub, then sent a clone with a parallel ahead to jump up onto the read path as it began to extend further out of the bubble of Murmur. Shaping it along the path as opposed to in a bubble was tough, and I tried to cover the surrounding area to allow us to remain concealed.

Bethy focused, imbuing her Domain into the path, helping to shape it and keep it straight as it extended. Abel bumped my shoulder. "Don't bother cloaking more than the path itself," he advised. "It's spatial lubrication. Once we step onto it we'll be flung down the length of it like a slingshot and be out of this sea before any of them can react. Getting it in place is the hard part."

I nodded, then sent another clone down the path, amused as I saw it whip past the first one and reach the edge, about ten miles out. He started to extend his own Murmur field along the length of the path, only using a bit to cover himself, and I beamed as we started to make progress. Finally, the path reached the shore, and we stepped back, gesturing for the others to climb on.

Chelsea was first up, and she hopped onto the red spatial distortion and rocketed off into the distance, slipstreaming through the space like a speeding shuttle. Then Callie, then the rest of my friends. Bethy went third to last, then me, and Abel hopped on behind me right after. I whooped with joy as we shot across the intervening space, bypassing the C-rankers as we flew over their heads. We landed safely on the shore, and I dismissed my clones as we let the path fade. It was nice to have a win with so much going wrong.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

It was a relief to be back on land. Or…well, back on normal land? The ocean was gone, but the area where it had been was twisted and creepy, even without all the monsters trying to hunt us down like dogs. "Alright, so, you two have any idea where we are?" I asked, glancing at Dez and Carmichael.


Carmichael frowned, then fished out a small red stone from a pocket. He squeezed it tightly, and I saw it glow a bit. He moved his hand around, and the glow strengthened and then waned, modulated by some unknown variable (though I assumed it was some kind of compass). Eventually, he settled on a direction and pointed. "Nearest Ghost Bone Tower is that way. We can contact Silent Sorrow there. They should be able to point you toward your targets."


I nodded, then turned to Dayna. "Do you have a method to contact any of your old companions? If you have a C-ranker we can get in touch with you might save their life."


The Heaven Murder Elf (and I STILL didn't know what that was) shook her head. "My honor required me to enter Bethany's service, but I still owed my master and the other initiates. To ensure I wouldn't be used as a weapon against my people, I informed them of my defection and destroyed all methods of communication to sever ties."


I shot her an impressed look. "That's shockingly upright of you. A bit inconvenient, but damned impressive. Would they give you a chance to speak on my behalf if we track them down through other means?"


She shrugged. "It depends which C-ranker we encounter. Each god sent three different representatives. Finding people at the peak of D-rank who haven't ranked up if they're capable is difficult. There's no real reason to remain at the peak of D if you don't have to." I nodded, I'd already figured that one out.


Three times six was eighteen, and we'd already killed one, so that was seventeen potential C-rankers, plus the thirty or more locals. Forty seven, almost fifty C-rankers. So we'd be down between ten and fifteen in terms of numbers versus the locals even in the absolute most ideal circumstances, which we definitely wouldn't get. The numbers disparity would probably be much worse.


I shook that off. We'd play the hand we were dealt. We had some nasty surprises, and I wasn't afraid of fighting a few myself to help even things out.


We followed Carmicheal across the island, moving much faster without fear of the Abyssal Lords hunting us. I wasn't sure if they COULDN'T leave the ocean or just hadn't noticed us escaping and were determined to box us in, but whatever the case, none of them seemed to have followed us, thank the gods for small miracles.


After about an hour we reached a city. We'd run across a few nasty sea creatures who HAD crawled up on land, but nothing too scary, and we'd put them down without much fuss. Still, it had delayed our trip, and the water line in the sky had already dropped a few inches. It wasn't much in the grand scheme of things, but operating under what was basically an hourglass of death wasn't pleasant.


When we reached the new town, Carmichael pulled us to a stop outside, and we all scoped out the location to see if it was safe to enter. Honestly, I wasn't sure, because the place was REALLY ominous looking, seeing as it was made out of bone.


The whole city we'd stumbled on was carved out of a giant skeleton. It wasn't humanoid, more…snakelike? Lots of ribs down the length, and each one had been hollowed out and turned into a building. The skeleton had been curled into a circle, so there was a literal wall of guard towers facing out from around city limits. The inward facing ribs formed the basic infrastructure of a network of towers connected by walkways, and there were woven metal cables covered in barbed hooks strung between the guard towers on the outside, forming a wall of jagged metal around the entire perimeter.


"Well that looks friendly," said Abel dryly. "What a cheerful and inviting place. Clearly the person who designed it was in a great place mentally and wasn't even slightly insane."


"Hold on," I said with amusement. "Let me guess the name. I think I've gotten used to the way they do them here, and I bet I can figure it out. Is it…Ribwall?" I couldn't resist a jab at the naming conventions.


Dez snorted. "Bonehook, actually," she said with a chuckle. "But you were closer than I'd like. At least I think it's Bonehook. I've heard stories, and it's pretty distinctive."


"It is," Carmichael nodded. "Bonehook is one of the oldest cities in the Shoals. It predates Skartaris's reign by quite a while. The city lord of Bonehook is…well, not independent, but in a much better position to protest orders he doesn't like. Even Skartaris steps carefully around Maxos. Those non general C-rankers I mentioned? Several of them live in Bonehook."


"So he's a friend of the resistance?" I asked excitedly. "We got lucky?"


He shook his head. "We didn't get UNlucky. Maxos is a mercenary at heart. He might work with us, but you definitely shouldn't trust him. Keep your eyes open. We need to get to the tower. It's in the inner ring so we'll need to take the bone bridge."


I was confused by what that meant, but it became clear pretty fast. All the ribs of the snake skeleton were towers, with the outside making up the guard towers and wall and the inside being part of the city infrastructure. The skeleton was so huge that the spin the ribs connected to formed its own road that ran the length of the inside of the city. Once we got closer I could see the bone bridge through the jagged wall, but we needed to enter before we could actually access it.


The only entrances were small gates latched into the weave at the base of the wall of hooks. They were about ten feet tall and there were only four of them, one at each cardinal direction, so guarding the gate was easy enough.


We had zero chance of bullying our way past, so we let Carmichael go first, since he didn't seem worried about entering. When he reached the gate, he waved to the guards cheerfully.


"Hello, I'm here to visit an old friend, is Chandra still living in the city?" As he spoke, he tossed the glowing stone up into the air and caught it. The motion was casual, like he was just a bored guy fidgeting with a stone, but I saw the guards eyes lock on the token.


The one on the left (they were literally identical, and I couldn't tell them apart outside of position) nodded slowly. "Lord Chandra resides within. Do you seek his aid?"


Rolling his eyes, the other one sighed. "Sorry, Dave is trying to get promoted. Our watch commander is really into the old style noble speech, and he thinks having us all talk like we're a thousand adds gravitas. Yeah, Chandra is still running the Brawldom Butchery in the east district. Normally we'd charge for that info, but we have a standing order not to hold up anyone with a Ghost Bone Stone." He glared at his partner when he said that last part, and the identical man bristled.


"I wasn't HOLDING HIM UP," Dave protested. "I was fishing for information. Commander Jace will be curious, and yes, I do want to get promoted. SOME of us actually have ambition, Kyle. This is why mom likes me better."


Kyle snorted. "Mom likes you better because you're a suck up. Now stop delaying these nice people. Sorry about the wait, friends." He slammed his elbow back into the gate. "We've got a party entering!" He called up over his shoulder. "GBS holder here for Chandra." I chose not to point out that he'd just passed on our business like his brother had wanted to, right after criticizing him for the same thing.


The gates swung open with a metallic screech, and we were gestured in. The wall of hooks had very small gaps through which we could see the bone bridge, but they weren't wide enough to get a good look. Stepping through the gate was a much different experience, and the sight of colossal spine we would be walking down was breathtaking.


While it wasn't visible from inside or even really above, there was a flat stone wall on the opposite side of the gate that blocked off the interior of the city. We could still enter through the inner ring, though, and each of the interior towers had access points at the base, leading up to the network of walkways crisscrossing the city proper, spiderwebbing between the buildings as they towered above us.


This was the inner ring, whereas the guard towers were the outer ring. We circled the bone bridge for about ten miles before finding the right tower. "What was the deal with the guy you asked about? Chandra?"


Carmichael shrugged. "Chandra is a local C-ranker. One of the three bosses under Maxos. East, West, and South. Maxos himself lives in the North, but he's not the type to micromanage. Chandra is the Eastern Marshall of Bonehook. He's a Butcher by trade and by Job, and he's EXTREMELY scary. We knew each other growing up, and he had a bit of a soft spot for me, though who knows if he still does. I wasn't sure if the stone was still good, so I decided to hedge my bets."


We stopped at the base of a tower. While all of the towers were made from hollowed out snake ribs, they were also all very different aside from their basic shape. Carvings, paint, metal inlays, each tower had its own unique style and design.


The one we had stopped at had a series murals depicting specters and skeletons perched in peaceful repose, meditating under a brilliant moon.


Holding up the stone, Carmichael touched it to the plate of the nearest door. The black metal set into the dark wood started to glow cherry red, as if it was turning molten. There was a click and the door popped open, revealing a thin sliver of darkness past the entrance. Carmichael grabbed the door handle, which had returned to its normal color, and pulled it open, stepping over the threshold first with the stone palmed like it would ward off danger.


When nothing happened, he waved us inside. "Close the door behind you. We're not supposed to be able to enter without an invite."


Ray was the last person in, and he pulled the door shut, pulling and pushing a few times to make sure it anchored. The mechanism was completely silent, so it was hard to tell at a glance if it was actually closed.


Once we confirmed that, we all turned to look around the tower. The design was very different than the previous tower. This one was all one large open chamber, with a pair of stairways leading up the sides in a spiral. About twenty feet up there was a vaulted ceiling, and I got the impression this place was spatially expanded on top of its enormous size. How many floors did they have here?


Rather than approach the stairs, Carmichael carried the stone to the center of the room where a circular desk was built into the ground. He dropped it on the surface and the whole desk began to glow…and then dropped. As we watched, the desk descended into the floor, segmenting as it lowered into a set of spiral stairs.


Carmichael grinned. "See, secret organizations always have the coolest stuff," he gestured for me to take the lead. "Now, lets go talk to the boss, and see what we can do to get us all out of this. Personally, I'm just as eager to get the hell out of this dungeon." I'd never agreed with any sentiment more.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The underside of the Ghost Bone Tower was surprisingly homey. I'd expected yet another huge chamber with a grand sweeping design aesthetic, but it was pretty cozy. The hallways were small but not cramped, painted in warm colors, and there was a thick cushy carpet along the length of the corridor.


Rather than the secret base of a powerful organization, it reminded me of a finished basement at someone's grandmother's house. I half expected to see finger painting artwork framed and hanging on the wall.


I didn't, obviously, though there was some nice vases with fresh cut flowers in them, sitting on worn but well cared for wooden tables. Paintings DID hang along the length of the hallways, watercolors and soothing landscapes, but they were clearly professional artwork, and I was impressed by the taste of the person who picked them out.


"This isn't what I expected," Dez said to her dad as we followed him deeper into the complex. I could understand her confusion, the design choices clashed heavily with the bleak aesthetic of the Shoals as we'd seen them, but that made sense. I hadn't been in anyone's house really, just creepy places. Not everyone was going to want to live in some kind of edgelord fantasy novel, and despite the base level of society following certain trends, this place wasn't too far behind the Empire tech wise.


Carmichael chuckled. "The tower master here is a bit eclectic in his tastes, at least assuming it's the same guy. The cloaks run the upstairs, but Silent Sorrow has its own case officers. Bonehook is Veldran's place, and he's not exactly your average Ascendant. He practices a type of formation ability mixed with interior decorating. This place might look pleasant, but it's basically a fortress."


I blinked at him. "I don't sense any of that, Chelsea?" My sister had a decent grasp on formations.


She frowned, looking around. "I…I think that warmth is a formation. But only a surface level one. Some kind of comfort and relaxation formation layered on top of whatever defensive formations are here, to disguise them. I wouldn't have even noticed it if you hadn't brought it up."


"Yup, this place is pretty secure," said Carmichael. "I've only been once or twice, since this isn't exactly my territory, but it's pretty memorable."


We continued down the corridor, and I studied the paintings, carpet, and decorations as we went, trying to find traces of the formation. I could spot some faint patterns in the layout, at least. Something was definitely deliberate about the placement, even if it didn't look like more than that to me. I even considered activating Dantalion, but I was worried there might be some kind of detection formation under the one we could see that would alert the guy in charge.


We took a few turns, eventually coming to an unassuming wooden door. Carmichael knocked, and there was a slight pause. "Come in?" said an uncertain voice.


Pushing the door open, the C-ranker walked into the room, the rest of us fanning out behind him. The new room was still just as homey. A small pit in the floor created a recessed surface in the center of the room, and inside of it a large couch, curved into a half circle, sat facing the door. A guy sat on it, young looking and wearing a short sleeved shirt and a pair of casual linen pants. His feet were covered in sandals, and he had a book in his hand, a well worn paperback.


It looked…weird. Not because there was anything abnormal, but because there WASN'T. This dungeon was so old fashioned and grim, seeing a normal guy in a t-shirt reading a paperback was strange. I knew they had connections to the outside, so it wasn't like I hadn't considered the possibility of seeing more modern items around, but it was still strange.


At the very least, they weren't MODERN modern. Whoever had been trading with them given them antiques or something. The video playback device sitting in the wooden cabinet off to one side of the room was a PHYSICAL screen, and I hadn't even ever seen one of those. It wasn't even the old fashioned glass faced holofilm displays some of the really old mortals on Callus still used. It was a glass screen set into a wide backed black box, connected to some sort of hole in the wall via wire.


The layout of the place was surprisingly roomy, given the design of the hallways. Aside from the main chamber with the recessed floor, there was a wood paneled side hall that led off to a bathroom and an office, and in the other direction, a second room with a built in bar. There were also doors set in multiple places, though I couldn't see where they went.


The guy on the couch, a red haired lanky looking man with freckles, loose curls, and a goatee, smiled at us all as we looked around. "Visitors! How wonderful. I don't recognize most of you, but you're carrying a GBS, so you'd be welcome either way. I do know at least one of you though. Carmichael, I thought you were dead."


"Yeah, that's going around," the older man said wryly. "The place still looks the same as ever, I see."


Veldran looked appalled. "It is NOT," he said firmly. "The carpet is a hundredth of an inch taller, a shade darker, and the ply is about ten percent thicker. I also painted the walls, replaced some of the paintings, and shifted everything about a quarter of a tenth of a half inch lower on the walls to account for slight fluctuations in the spatial warping. Combined with a few other tweaks, my power output on the defensive formations here is up forty percent."


Carmichael snickered. "Impressive. I'm guessing that you've made some progress with your ability?"


"Well, it's not like I can rank it up," Veldran said sourly. "Though my base formation Skill IS up to Grandmaster. Not much else to do down here except experiment and read. Well, and watch the occasional movie. I have a fascinating collection of these chips I bought through the Tower, you insert them into a small device that plugs into that viewing box."


I doubted I'd recognize any of the movies he had to watch, so I was momentarily tempted, but I shook it off quick. That relaxation formation was a bit more insidious than I had expected, because that definitely didn't seem like me.


"Where is everyone?" Carmichael asked, glancing around. "This place being empty is fine, but the tower was pretty much deserted."


Veldran shrugged. "There's people around, but mainly on higher floors. The cloak tries to discourage people from loitering in the entry chamber, just in case they notice the entrance to this place. So, since you're alive, what is it that you're looking for?"


"We're not looking for anything," said Carmichael with a grin. "Or at least, we're not looking to buy. We ARE interested in doing some trading. For instance, how would you like to get out of the Shoals?"


The red haired man's eyes snapped up to Carmichael's face. "What did you just say?" he demanded. "Because it sounds like you just offered to help me LEAVE this fucking place. Which we both know is impossible. We're C-rankers, the exit trip would kill us. And not gently either. Soul shattering, the kind you can't recover from. People have been trying for millennia. It's not possible."


I flicked my wrist, grabbing a scroll from my ring, and tossed it to him. He caught it, and when he saw what it was, his eyes widened in shock. "Where did you GET this?" His voice was shaking. "I've heard of these, but I've never seen one. They're supposed to be crazy famous in the outside world but one of the larger factions has a monopoly."


What I found interesting was that he knew what it was at all. Clearly the Ghost Bone Tranquility Tower's connections with the outside world were more extensive than I had anticipated. Still, that was nothing but a benefit to me.


"He got it from me," I said as I stepped forward. "If you know what it is, I assume you know how it works, so I'm not worried about you trying to coerce me. I can only grant wishes for fair compensation. I CAN take you out of the Shoals, and I WILL, if you agree to work for me for…" I paused, considering the value. "A hundred years. That shouldn't be too big a chunk of your lifespan."


C-rank lifespan was over fifteen thousand years as a base, so a century for what I assumed was several thousand years of freedom was a pretty solid deal. I honestly could have done less, but I felt like it might be useful to have a personal force of C-rankers WITH me when I went to the WCP. Assuming I won, but I was admittedly already counting those chickens pre-hatch. If I lost, I'd deal with it then, but making plans for victory seemed like the smartest move.


He looked conflicted. I could understand why. He wanted to leave, but he'd been with Silent Sorrow for a while, presumably. Based on what Carmichael said, getting to C-rank outside of Skartaris's inner circle was rare and difficult. An organization like Silent Sorrow would undoubtedly be a huge help for something like that. Reaching D-rank seemed to be simple enough here, given how many of them there were, but C-rankers were rare.


Finally, he glanced at Carmichael. "What do you think? You were always pretty ferocious about the cause. Should we really do this?"


"Have you seen the rain?" Carmichael asked gently. At his nod, he shrugged. "According to my friends here, that means this place is about to turn into hell. I for one don't want to be here when it happens. One of the things I plan to have you do if you join up is send someone to fetch my wife and daughter. I don't see it as abandoning the cause, only doing what we need to do to make sure there's a cause left when this is over."


That still rankled me. We had a plan, but the plan was to escape. There was no winning here. The Void Child had been preparing for a long time, and this plan WAS happening. We were just trying to get gone before things broke down.


Leaving so many people behind was unconscionable, but I knew my grandparents wouldn't ignore something like a void incursion. I had to trust them to try to help, because a whole void beachhead full of C-rank Void Children was so far out of my league we might as well be playing different games.


Veldran looked pensive, but finally, he nodded. "I'm in, assuming this offer will be extended to the rest of Silent Sorrowe?"


"The more the merrier," I nodded emphatically. "We're going to need as much firepower as we can to get out. I can give you the ability to leave, but actually using it will mean punching our way through the exit to the Shoals."


He winced. "Yeah, I was afraid you were going to say that. Sneaking a few of us out might be doable for the boss, but a large scale exodus will mean a fight."


"Exactly," Callie beamed, cutting. "And now we can count on you. Now, we need you to help me locate some people once you finish with that. Also, I wanted to talk to you about a potential decorating job after we finish up a few quick errands. I think you could really help make our future house into something special."


I grinned at her, not that the others could see it behind my mask. I'd had a similar thought, but I'd gotten distracted. My wife knew what she wanted, and she wasn't afraid to dive right in. I was a pretty lucky guy.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Veldran 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.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

I got seventy five years of service out of Argaunt, as well as several clauses and addenda promising his action in very specific circumstances outside of the succession war and his capacity as a direct employee of the WCP assuming I didn't win. He'd been insistent on that second part, because the odds were pretty stacked against me, which I couldn't blame him for.


One of the biggest concessions though was that I got him to agree to approach some of the other C-rankers on my behalf. Especially the ones from Verdyn's faction. There were still two more of them (the one we killed was one of Raxus's apparently, which wasn't much of a loss) and they were more likely to listen to him than me. It also freed me up to begin some real work on my research for Callie's new racial trait.


Which brought me to our current activity. Namely, a deep dive into Serah and Holly's racial traits. "Alright," I told the two angels as we all sat in the side room of Veldran's complex. "In order to work on Callie's trait, I need to learn more about yours. You good with that?" Veldran had offered us a room while we were in Bonehook, and since this was probably the safest place in town according to Carmichael, it seemed like an ideal spot to begin work.


"I mean, sure," said Holly casually. "But didn't you already DO that?"


I shook my head. "Not even close. I got a brief look at them with Eye of Revelation, and then I basically copied part of the architecture directly and plugged in a new power source. I didn't learn the material on the test, I brought a cheat sheet."


"And this time you need to understand what you're looking at," she finished as understanding dawned. "Because you're going to be doing much more detailed work."


"Exactly," I agreed excitedly. "In order to create a racial trait that can adapt and balance out Callie's void corruption, I need to understand every bit of what I'm doing. That means a deep dive into how your powers work. Luckily, I had an advantage here, because unlike last time, I have access to Dantalion. With you two opening up your souls for me, I can study and deconstruct them, gathering as much data as I need. The longer I work, the more data I get."


Beyond that, the data that I didn't actually consciously pick up would still stockpile in the back of my brain. The more of it I could accrue, the more Wisdom of Solomon would have to work with when I finally started iterating the racial trait with it.


The only reason I was even remotely confident in doing this at all was that Callie could now come into the library with me at any time and interact with the tomes. Our bond would let me directly adjust the trait as I went, mapping out her reactions and how it worked with her current Solid Path.


Essentially, this was similar to my creation of Sammael, in that I was sure that I had no chance of actually mastering the complexities of a racial trait enough to make one from scratch. With all the unique advantages I had in the process though, the impossible became possible, and I was excited to see what I could make. Even if this wouldn't let me just create racial traits willy nilly, it should elevate my understanding of the construction of Skills to a much higher level, enough to allow me to thoroughly improve my forms with the Ten Demons Tree at a much faster rate.


"And what about us?" Chelsea asked. My sister, Bethy, Archie, and Dayna were all here with us, watching with fascination as I arranged everyone in specific but probably meaningless formations try to get the best spread of Dantalion without compromising physical comfort.


"Well, Bethy and Dayna are racial trait holders from birth." I informed her solemnly. "Bethy in particular has two of them merged together, which is priceless research value for what I'm trying to do here. It would be even better if I had Lark or another pure Vampire for reference, but even my luck has limits. Dayna's combat abilities might be helpful to integrate too, if I can narrow them down."


She rolled her eyes. "Yes, brother dear, I understand how LOGIC works. I'm asking why I'M here,"


"Purification," I said simply. "Archie has it integrated into his being. I'm not sure if I even CAN study how a beast integrates energy like that, but if I can, having yours to compare it to will be helpful. I won't be able to use Zagan here, because Dantalion will be taking up all my energy. So on top of providing reference material, you can help me purify and Abyssal influences I can't get myself, or rather, help Archie."


My companion trilled in irritation, and I grimaced. "I know you've been stuck in Bethy's Domain. I'm sorry, but this place is a shithole, and I'm worried you'll exhaust yourself to death by accident trying to passively purify all this void taint. The complex is a different story, because Veldran's defenses filter out the nasty stuff."


Formations were about energy, and Veldran's were even more sensitive. The flow of power down here was modified infinitesimally by literally every molecule and its placement, so the abyssal power had been thoroughly ground down as it entered, refined into a much purer and friendlier form of energy before being fed into the formations. Much like Dantalion, Veldran focused on deepening his understanding of this one location to an absurd degree, maximizing how well he could exploit the area.


Moravian, the Grandmaster back on Callus, had done the same, but his formation covered the whole planet. Veldran had focused even more deeply, and he'd been a Grandmaster much longer, as well as being a C-ranker. It was a different direction of study, but no less impressive.


Because of that, Archie could safely be out and about in here, and I'd wasted no time letting him out, even if his constant whining was starting to grate. I couldn't blame him after being cooped up for so long, especially stuck in there with the cats and my sister's psychopathic rabbit.


Having distracted myself more than enough, I sat down, closing my eyes as I focused on Dantalion. It didn't take much, my form unfolded without any real effort, and the field of deduction overlaid the area around me instantly, covering everyone without any trouble. Of course, knowing how these things worked, covering them all initially wasn't enough. To maximize my deduction ability, I needed Dantalion as dense as possible.


That was where the placements came in. They were as close as possible so I could condense Dantalion down to the smallest possible area, at least without everyone here being mashed against my side invading my personal space.


As Dantalion unfolded, I had Holly and Serah ignite their flames, gold and bronze respectively, as I allowed myself to sink into the deduction.


FIrst was the physical. Racial traits were a transformation at a base level, altering the physical properties of a being. While that wasn't exactly the AIM of the ability, it was a big part of the process, and so it needed to be managed carefully. With the two girls there, I had three angelic forms for reference, including my own (which I was obviously using to boost Dantalion).


While the forms were mainly standardized (I based mine on theirs) I did note a few small alterations I assumed to be caused by the energy types. It took me a while to find those, actually, because they were only evident on a cellular level. My Perception at this point was higher than Callie's so that kind of examination was doable for me, but it took time for Dantalion to slowly acclimate to the environment.


Which was another problem. The environment. Namely, Dantalion was trying to deduce the formations surrounding us, and it was slowing down my information gathering efforts in other areas.


Still, I maintained my efforts, I just triggered Piece of Mind, splitting off a bunch of parallels to support me in my deductions. Callie lent me her own soul for the task too, and between the two of us, I was able to split off SIX other versions of my mind to help catalogue and sort data. The more of it I understood, the less I'd need to rely on accumulation from my subconscious and the more I could guide the process when it came time to form the trait.


One of my minds studied the angelic forms, while two of them were applied to Bethy, studying both of her heritages and how they affected her, even as two more studied Archie, looking for similarities between him and the angels, studying possible ways to synergize energy with the physical form.


The more I studied, the more sure I was of something very interesting. Racial traits weren't natural, and more than that, they were BASED on beasts. Not specifically, like Jessie's was, but in the abstract. Someone had studied bestial integration of Paths and tried to recreate it in a human form. Presumably they had studied human form beasts themselves, hoping to create some sort of method to combine Paths with people.


I almost went down a rabbit hole there, but I forced myself to get back to the matter at hand. That was fascinating info and could be explored later, but I needed more specific information. My last two parallels, one of them studied Dayna and one of them processed extra data. I had briefly considered asking Daysia to sit in too, but I was concerned that Dryads were too removed from human after the tree bond, and I didn't want to go down a blind alley.


After about three hours, I finally managed to get past the physical examination stage. With souls open to my inspection, and my own experience interacting with the souls of people like Bella and Callie, I was able to catch sight of the internal workings of their powers.


My original glances at their racial traits had been…woefully inadequate. If this was trying to free hand trace a design so I could alter some details, the last attempt had been more like sketching it from memory. Ten years after the fact. While drunk. It was a genuine miracle that Sammael actually functioned, and I was pretty sure it wouldn't have if my soul hadn't been strong enough to bully it into behaving how I wanted it to.


The deeper I got into techniques and Skill creation, the more I realized how little I knew. I'd see the results of my training, become certain I was slowly perfecting my craft, then I'd trip into some new way of looking at things and realize my previous efforts only looked good while squinting at them in low light.


I spent eight hours down there, internalizing the power and the details as best I could, and letting Dantalion soak up anything I couldn't for later use. Even MY soul was becoming strained by the constant effort, and my brain was mush after hours of seven times maximum input from a form designed to essentially BE information overload. Finally, I let the field drop, thumping backwards into a sprawl as I groaned and gripped my head.


A pair of soft hands reached down, slim fingers pressing against my temples as they did their best to gently massage the tension out. My wife pulled my head into her lap as she massaged it, humming gently to soothe my pain as best she could.


In the end, I just let myself drift off to sleep. My parallels faded away as I fell into blissful unconsciousness. My brain could process the excess data in dreams and I would hopefully wake up feeling refreshed. Tomorrow, I could begin work on Callie's new racial trait, assuming the Wisdom of Solomon was ready, if not I would wait. Either way, this wasn't going to be a one day endeavor. I was planning to work on this one for a while.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

I woke up feeling pretty good. I'd worked through a lot of the excess data, and I set a parallel to work on the form while I took a much needed break. I'd been overclocking myself non stop since we got to the dungeon, and with everyone safe and nearby, I finally felt comfortable taking a bit of a breather before we got involved in whatever horrible mess awaited us before we could get OUT of this place.


In that vein, I decided to do something I hadn't done in far too long. I decided to cook dinner for my wife. I stockpiled my scrolls when I woke up (three for emergencies and twenty eight on hand after subtracting the one I'd used to lock Argaunt into his contract) and then ordered a few things for the meal before telling Callie to clear her schedule. I was planning to spend all day getting ready.


The look on her face when I told her what we were doing warmed my heart. It wasn't hunger or anything as base as that. Callie loved my cooking, but more than that, i could feel through the bond that she missed me. We didn't spend as much time together since the wedding, and it was far from ideal. The last real date night we'd had like this was the night I proposed to her, and that had been months ago and seemed like even longer.


I changed out of my armor and into a nice suit (though I did put an apron over it so I didn't get anything on it while cooking) and got started on dinner. I decided I was going to make braised short ribs in a red wine sauce with mashed potatoes and asparagus.


It was nothing fancy, but I thought she would appreciate the effort. I also decided to make puff pastry for dessert, and I hand rolled the dough, layering it as many times as possible to create a buttery delight. Once everything was either cooked or in to cook, I got rid of my apron and set the table to prepare for Callie's arrival.


My mask was in my ring, and my face wouldn't stop smiling as I felt her nervousness at the thought of a night with just the two of us. Not bad nervousness, but the kind of excited, fluttery feeling I could feel echoed in my own gut, and one that I'd heard a lot of people lost after getting married. It felt…right. The two us together, enjoying an evening between the bombshells, it felt like how things were supposed to be.


It was funny, I'd thought the lack of time together would erode our relationship. It did with some people. But Callie and I were connected on a deeper level than most. We always felt what the other was feeling, caught every little instance every day where the other person was thinking of us. Those little reminders or flashes of fondness that most people never say aloud or draw attention to, we got in surround sound.


Neither of us were ever alone, ever absent from the other's life. So these moments we got to just BE together between the craziness, they were built on the foundation of a million little affectionate thoughts and reminders of how much we cared.


I finished setting out the plates, then retrieved the ribs from the kitchen and served them, setting the sauce to the side to be used as gravy for the potatoes if she felt like doing so. Then I served the asparagus and sat down across from the empty chair where her plate was waiting and took a few deep breaths.


This was where I found peace. No matter how insane things got, not matter how dangerous or painful or violent. This was where my heart lived. That single moment of stillness between beats where all the pain and hurt just melted away. It felt strange, letting go of all the stress and exhaustion I'd been carrying for so long. I'd gotten so used to it that the loss left me genuinely reeling and off balance, but in a good way.


Which left me completely unprepared for seeing my wife walk into the room in her new dress. It was long and black, clinging to her form while still giving her room to move. Her mask was gone, just like mine, and her wine red lips were quirked up in a smile, her bright blue eyes shimmering like sunlight through a mountain spring below cascading, gently curling hair the consistency of black silk.


She stared back at me, her eyes locked with mine, and I felt an echo of the unrelenting adoration that swirled inside my chest every day as I remembered how grateful I was to have found the love of my life so early on. She glided across the room, sitting across from me gracefully, and my mouth went dry, my tongue fumbling over itself just like it did when we were first starting out. All this time, all these adventures, and I was still poleaxed by how breathtaking she was.


"Love you too, handsome," she said warmly. "And you were right. I needed this. I didn't even realize how fucking exhausted I was. The changes we go through, the shifts in mindset, it's easy to forget we're still people at our core. At least for now."


I chuckled. "I want a refund. I was promised implacable inhuman resolve. My resolve is totally placable, and it's like…human plus, at best."


She giggled, cutting a piece of short rib and popping it in her mouth. Her face brightened even more. "Oh damn, that's really good. I mean, the meat is great, but where did you get the wine for the sauce?"


"It was some super old bottle I found in the wine cellar," I shrugged. "Want a glass? I think it's supposed to be really expensive or something. Veldran DID say I could use whatever I wanted."


I summoned the bottle, pouring a glass for each of us. I didn't drink much, but a glass of wine with my wife at dinner wasn't going to be enough to do much to me. She picked hers up, sniffed deeply, and then closed her eyes with a happy groan. "Oh wow, that smells amazing."


"It's the tannins," I said wisely. "It has…more of them. Or less. Or they're stronger. Or weaker. I don't know anything about wine. I just heard that word somewhere. I'd ask Veldran, but I'm like…90% sure that this is an absurdly expensive bottle of wine and I just used it to cook beef, so I'm kind of afraid to run into him right now."


She smiled, taking a sip, then set down her glass. "So…you're really not worried about all this? At all?"


"No shop talk," I groaned exaggeratedly. "And no. Don't forget, I still have that defensive token. You'll be fine, even if I have to burn a god level protection technique to make sure of it. I'm not going to let the void take you, and neither will my grandparents. You're family, and that might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but it comes with some security. Nobody messes with a Wyndham."


Her eyes moistened, but she blinked away the tears, sniffing loudly. "See, how do you always know what to say to make me feel better? That's half the reason I married you, you know."


She leaned over the table, going up on her tip toes to peck me on the lips lightly before sitting back down. I shrugged. "I figure given all the dumb shit I do, you deserve a guy who can at least be supportive."


"You've gotten a lot better about doing dumb shit," she reassured me. Then she paused, frowning slightly. "Or I've gotten a lot worse at noticing when you're doing dumb shit. I honestly can't tell at this point. It's highly possible that you've just got me so acclimated to your nonsense it seems normal now."


I shrugged. "Close enough. I trust you to know when something is TOO dumb."


"I used to worry about that, you know," she sighed. "How upset and worried I got. I was afraid you'd resent me for calling you on things I thought were a bad idea."


"Resented it?" I asked incredulously. "I counted on it. I can't tell which way is up most of the time through my recursion. You're my litmus test for when something is Shane crazy or just regular crazy. Besides, you're connected to me so deeply. Of course it would hurt you if my soul is injured or if my mind is about to collapse from pain. The last thing I want to do is hurt you."


She shrugged self-consciously. "I know that. But it's a hard line to walk. Knowing when to call you on something I think is dangerous and when that crosses the line into not being supportive enough. At least before I had the luxury of knowing I was stronger than you and could help protect you if things got bad. Now…well, let's just say I can't wait for this new racial trait. It's terrifying being married to you and feeling like you're leaving me behind."


I reached out and grabbed her hand across the table, squeezing it tightly. "Never," I told her emphatically. "I will NEVER leave you behind. Even if I became a god tomorrow, I would only be a little bit ahead. I'd make sure you caught up eventually, no matter what I had to do. We're going to see the top of the mountain, and we're going to do it together. I don't care if I have to carve domain seeds out of every Vanished God and stack them all up to help you reach divinity."


She scoffed, her lips twitching as she tried to hide a smile. "Please, everyone knows I'm the talent in this family. I'll definitely become a god first, and then I'll help YOU reach divinity."


I beamed at her, and we went back to our meal. We didn't speak anymore, just ate in comfortable silence. When you can feel someone in your soul, you don't need words to fill the moments. Just being together and enjoying each other's company was more than enough.


When we finished, I cleared the dishes and went to get the puff pastry, which had finished cooling. I'd piped apple filling inside and sprinkled it with small crystals of rock sugar, and Callie lit up like a supernova when she bit into it. She pulled me in for another kiss, this one tasting of apples, and we just smiled at each other for a moment before we returned to eating, savoring the soft, flaky pastry.


After dinner, we went for a walk outside. Without my mask or hers, we just looked like a regular couple. No one on this planet knew my real face beyond a very dead abyssal priest. But just in case, we walked under Bael, the stealth form hiding us from view as we strolled through Bonehook hand in hand.


It was late, and the city was gloomy, but the green flame lamps on the light poles released a warm and comforting light, giving everything a sad, otherworldly air rather than the morbidity one would expect from such a dark world.


Beyond that, people were just people. Walking the streets, talking, buying, selling, screaming, laughing. It was a riot of humanity, and it further solidified the feeling of relaxation and peace as I returned to my roots. I felt…whole. Like I was finally catching my breath after years of non stop running.


It wasn't exactly what I'd expected, but it was a small taste of the honeymoon we hadn't gotten, and would hopefully still make time for, and it was priceless to me. When we returned to the complex, we retired to our room, and the two of us curled up together, peaceful and happy, and drifted off to sleep. It had been an amazing day.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The next day I decided it was time. It had been a while since my last points drop, and I was going to need them for what came next. We'd spread the news of me killing that C-ranker (I was getting the credit for the kill this time, since we decided having more wish capability was the best use of the renown). I stockpiled the days scrolls, bringing my personal stash to thirty six, which I then passed on to the others with specific stat requests for payment.


Because I was so low on the stat from my renown, I asked that they put those eighteen hundred stat points into Creation. While I couldn't tell people what to wish for usually because I needed fair compensation, stat swaps were a one to one exchange, so I could be a bit more direct there. On top of that, I was asking for payment not telling them where to spend the points they wished for, so I was in the clear.


Aside from that…I had a LOT of points incoming. Not nearly enough to rank up, obviously, but I'd gotten a little over a hundred thousand. Between stories about me having the artifacts, my great-grandmother talking me up as her most powerful descendant (an obvious way to feed into her trap, whatever it was) and killing that C-ranker, I'd been swimming in renown lately.


I understood how Callie felt after that godslayer incident now, because the sheer income here was staggering. It gave me a clear understanding of why the WCP participated in the Unlucky 13 and consistently changed the current Wishmaster. I was only vaguely famous for my level right now, and it was pushing me through D-rank at a pretty decent clip. If I won the succession war, the regular income from being the Wishmaster would help me sail through C, B, and even A-rank at this rate.


A majority of my points came in the form of Might, clocking in at twenty five thousand six hundred and nine. After that I got twenty two thousand five hundred Vitality, nineteen thousand forty six Focus, fourteen thousand five hundred and eight Perception, and sixteen thousand ninety seven Fantasy. On top of the nine thousand eight hundred Creation, counting the points from the scrolls) I was sitting at almost one hundred and ten thousand points of income since my last power boost.


Wishmaster candidate status. D-rank. Ability: Master Wish- Eight times a day grant a Master wish in return for proper compensation. Wish must be feasibly achievable by the candidate's own efforts within a three day period with current statistics.


Master Path of the Doom Sovereign- A Solid Path toward a great destiny.


Might-121,619


Impact-105


Fantasy-69,703


Vitality-62,854


Focus-66,766


Perception-67,014


Creation-28,122


Progress to next rank:416,180/1,000,000


Soul strength- Amethyst Soul Body


Chronicle: Ten Demons Tome


wish scrolls stockpiled: 36 (3 in the possession of friends to be used over time)


Bonded compantion: Archimedes (Life Nova Phoenix)


Weapon: Ten Demons Tree (reincarnation tree staff that lets him simulate alternate lives to perfect his forms, and when combined with the library lets him simulate and deduce techniques in a process called the "Wisdom of Solomon")


Stored:7 shadow attacks, 10 shadow jump (seven in reserve), 10 Stealth charges, 0 fire attacks, 10 triple strength tranq blows (ten in reserve), 0 triple strength density shifted attacks. 10 spider leg attacks (ten in reserve), 0 heal bursts (0 reserve), 3 gravity attacks, 1 shadow clone, 18 scan heals (I-rank ability so Shane can hold more)


Pet- Wolf named Jin


Financial resources: 42 D-ranked(worth 100 E-ranked, past master rank is a watershed)


I was blown away. Not just by the growth, but by the fact that I wasn't even halfway to C-rank yet. I'd been hoping to make it to C before I reached the competition, but at this rate I had no chance. I might make it there DURING the competition, depending on exactly what we were doing, but for now I decided to let go of the dream of ranking up before the succession war. It was better to focus on shoring up the abilities I already had and making them as deadly as possible.


Even if I couldn't BE a C-ranker, I could still fight one with enough prep. I needed someone else to land the final blow, but that was why I had friends. Despite that, I did have another possible avenue of power. A way to categorically raise my power and enable me to land the final blow on higher ranked enemies. Namely, my staff.


The Ten Demons Tree was a powerful peak C-rank item, and if I could rank it up to B-rank, I would still be able to use it (weapons could be used within two ranks, usually. Past D-rank that got tougher but with my Chronicle I was strong enough to make it work). Not to mention the secondary capabilities like Wisdom of Solomon and the life simulation that let me evolve my forms would both be strengthened, leading to a qualitative shift in my power.


So I decided to check in with the one person on this trip who would know how to go about that little rank up. Daysia.


My sunflower haired dryad friend was in the compound as well, though she'd retired to an indoor track I hadn't realized was there and was playing with Archie. My phoenix had been thrilled to finally get out of Bethy's Domain, and having someone to play with was even more exciting for him. When I found them, she was chucking acorns the length of the room and Archie was flying in specific patters to try to catch several of them in a row.


"Interesting game," I laughed as I sat down next to Daysia. She turned to look at me and almost jumped out of her skin. "S-Solomon?"


I raised an eyebrow…and then realized why she was so shocked. Namely, the fact that my face was exposed. I'd never put my mask back on since I was still in the complex, protected by Veldran's formations. I grinned sheepishly. "Ah yeah, sorry about that. Hope I didn't freak you out."


She shook her head, a little dazed. "Not at all. It's just…I thought you were older. Which saying it out loud is really dumb, because we're Ascendants, but you must have gotten high ranked FAST, because you look like eighteen. Most of the higher rankers I know look like they're in their early to mid twenties. The age thing doesn't kick in until you finish growing, but if you don't hit a decent rank before then you get a few years before it starts." She paused. "Maybe slow growth is a Dryad thing though, who can say. Still, you look young."


I shrugged. "I have a bit of a baby face for a guy my size, I think. Part of why I wear the mask. Gives me an air of legitimacy."


"It's also super intimidating," she noted bluntly, and I couldn't help but laugh.


"Yeah, that too," I agreed. "So, I came to ask you about something. My staff. I want to know how to help it rank up. It IS technically a tree, and even a living one, so I figured who better to ask about what to feed it than you. All I know about it is that it's a soul attribute tree. But that doesn't tell me much about helping it break through."


She lit up. "Oh, I can help with that! Here, take it out, and I can help you communicate. I know you're connected to it, but some things a tree will only say to a Tree Singer."


I shrugged, then called my staff out from my soul and placed it butt down on the ground in front of me. The sapsteel tracing the body glowed dimly in the low light, and Daysia knelt down, closing her eyes before she started to whistle. I'd seen her use her powers before, but not like this. This was more…visceral. The high pitched whine of her whistle reminded me of nothing so much as wind between leaves, and as soon as it started, the staff began to tremble.


As it shook, I heard a rustle I hadn't heard before. While I could communicate with the staff, it was more emotions and impressions than anything, but judging by her expression, Daysia could actually UNDERSTAND my weapon. I was damned glad we'd brought her along.


After a few minutes back and forth, she furrowed her brows and hummed contemplatively. "It's not sure. It says that it thinks 'the bitey one' can help."


I chuckled. "I probably should have figured that. Consuming life force is Bethy's whole thing." I glanced to Archie. "Go get Bethy for me?" He trilled back insolently and I rolled my eyes. "No, you don't have to get back in the Domain yet, I just need to talk to her."


To my surprise, my companion literally rolled his eyes (someone was teaching him bad habits) and then flashed off. He came back within five minutes alone, and I threw my hands up in exasperation. "Well, where is she?" He glared at me, chirped once, and then flew up into the air, spreading his wings in an explosion of green flame.


"BETHY!" Boomed a familiar voice as my vampire friend manifested from out of the flames. I was pretty sure she'd just been in stealth up to this point waiting, but I still laughed as she appeared from the fire, arms thrown out and head flung back in triumph.


I stared at her dryly. "Really? Fireworks entrance? That doesn't seem a little ironic to you?"


She pouted at me sulkily. "You guys are getting too used to my grand entrances. I need to start mixing it up. Bring a little pizzazz back to my hellos!"


"Bethy, I think of all the things I can imagine you needing more of, pizzazz is literally the last one," I told her with a laugh.


"That's so sweet," she said cheerfully. "But I think I can do better. Now, what's up, birdy said you needed to talk? He also complained a lot about my kitties, apparently they're mean to him inside the Domain, and he wants me to make them be nice next time he's in there." That explained why he'd helped with her entrance.


I held up my staff. "Daysia and I are trying to help my staff upgrade. It's at the peak of C-rank, so it should be close…ish. I just don't know what it needs. It's connected to my Chronicle, so it shouldn't be that, which means we need to like…water it. Or whatever. We need to feed it life force, or soul force, or whatever. Your Domain can do that right?"


"Probably," she said with a hum. "But it might become a vampire. Do you want a vampire tree?"


I shook my head. "I'm gonna say no. Is there a way to do it WITHOUT turning my tree into a bloodthirsty undead?"


"Hey," she said with a pout. "That's not nice. I'm not bloodthirsty! Actually, I'm feeling kind of peckish, I should find Dayna after this. Anyway, there is another way, but it's kind of dangerous. I could water it with wine. I can make really good wine, especially if there's blood in it. I don't do that often because it usually makes me go a little crazy, and until now, I was worried about tapping into my bloodline that deep. But with your purification we could cleanse the wine so it wouldn't drive the tree into a frenzy, plus Daysia could help us guide it!"


That sounded…interesting. "I…guess we could try that. What do we need to get started?" Bethy squealed in excitement, bouncing up and down and clapping her hands. Then she made a list of necessary ingredients for the wine she was going to make. It sounded like an involved process, but I was still pretty excited for the possible results. I couldn't wait to see what I could do with a B-ranked version of my staff.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

"So, you can make wine that makes people stronger?" Chelsea asked Bethy with interest. "How come we haven't heard about this before?" Due to her purification powers, my sister had decided to join in the winemaking, along with me, Daysia, Dayna, Bethy, and Archie.


Behty shook her head. "Because it's not good for people to drink. Maenad wine is famously dangerous. My mom taught me how to brew it on one of my visits, but it drives people crazy. Turns them into cannibals, and MAKING it wakes up my Maenad blood, which is categorically bad. But since Shane helped calm down my bloodline, I should be able to manage a small batch without TOO many side effects."


"And trees don't go crazy," I pointed out with interest.


She shook her head. "No, the tree would absolutely go crazy. That's why you need to purify the wine. It'll take MORE of it to drive a tree crazy, but Maenad wine is conceptual madness. Anything that ingests it will go bat shit insane."


I'd rarely seen Bethy quite this serious. She had a solemn look on her face as she gestured to one side. "Did you get the grapes I asked for? Red grapes only, the darker the better. And seeds are fine." I nodded, and had Daysia deposit the grapes in the giant wooden tub we'd found. It was made of dark wood slats and was about ten feet around and two feet tall. Once we deposited it, Bethy made a pleased sound. "Excellent, now we smash the grapes. LUGGAGE! Hammer mode!"


She flicked her wrist and a stick appeared in her hand. With a flicker of her Domain, Luggage leapt from behind her hopping up and locking his teeth on the stick before curling his body around.


And…that was it. "Um…what is he doing?" I asked cautiously.


She beamed. "This is Lugagge's hammer mode! I invented it after you got your staff. Having a living weapon is super cool. Luggage is a hellhound, and he's super durable. He's the BEST hammer, aren't you good boy?"


The dog on the stick rumbled, and she cooed happily at him. "Bethy, that's not a hammer. He's just clinging to it."


"Nuh-uh!" she argued waspishly. "Watch." She raised the stick and slammed the dog down into the middle of the tub. Grapes splattered everywhere. Bethy cheered, swinging he "hammer" over and over again, faster and faster, with red juice and pulp flying everywhere.


Finally, after about five minutes, she set the dog down and he dropped the stick, shaking himself out violently, flinging juice all over the rest of the room.


We all glared at her, covered in grape, but before we could react, Bethy opened her mouth, exposing her fangs, and there was a ripple in the air. Much like the eyes that had manifested back when she hypnotized Dayna, a large MOUTH manifested in the air, delicate fangs exposed. Then the lips pursed, and there was a slurping sound, and all the grapes juice and pulp was sucked up into the illusory mouth, which then spit it all back into the tub.


Bethy ignored the odd looks, then walked over to the tub and bit her wrist deeply. I winced as I heard the teeth tear flesh, then she held out her wrist over the grape juice and blood began to drip in.


Where the blood made contact, the dark purple juice began to shift into a glowing ruby pool. The smell of grapes became overpowering, then started to shift, turning more alcoholic and dense. Almost like a vapor was flooding the room. I started feeling lightheaded, swaying a bit as a burning need to RAGE bubbled in my stomach.


I felt like my blood was on fire, like I was about to explode out of my skin and tear the walls down as my bones gave way under the sheer power of my shredding muscles.


Which…wasn't exactly a sane thought. I triggered Leviathan, the flames of my purification power and soul body washing away the impression. I sighed in relief as my blood stopped boiling. The others eyes all began to glow as they triggered their own Soul Bodies, reinforcing their consciousness to resist the fog of bloody wine.


Bethy took a deep sniff, then frowned. "It's too deep," she turned to Archie. "Birdy! Light the wine on fire!"


Archie trilled in excitement, then flung out his wings and cawed, exploding in a nova of green flame as he flapped once, sending a torrent of fire hurtling into the wine tub. There was an explosion of purple light as the red energy mixed with the flames. "Chelsea, you're up!" Bethy cheered, and my sister joined in, sending her own blast of purifying power.


As the power of the flames imbued the wine, red vapor exploded up above the tub like a cloud of smoke off a volcano. In the mist, crimson figures danced and leaped before falling on each other and tearing flesh with razor sharp teeth. In the background, I could hear the wine SCREAMING.


Finally, it was my turn. Extra energy from Archie, purification from Chelsea, and now I was going to be putting down a double helping of both with Leviathan. Stepping up, I triggered a burst of green flame in the form of an Extinction Event and infused it into the wine.


The previously red liquid began to shift again, taking on a brilliant swirling purple color, infused with flecks of green and white shimmer from the fire being mixed in. I kept that up until it had all swirled together into one big soup of complicated colors.


"Plant the tree!" Bethy announced portentously. I chuckled, then slammed the butt of the staff into the ground, punching it in and leaving it there. "Now, Daysia, begin the watering!"


Our Dryad friend, looking excited, scurried forward and lifted the tub easily. Being a D-ranker, that kind of weight was nothing to her. She stepped closer to the staff, and then tipped it, letting some of the swirling liquid spill out over the surface of the wood.


There was a hum of excitement and the traceries of metal on the staff began to blaze. The wood pulsed, color shifting to a darker hue as it drank down the wine. And drank. And drank. Daysia began to sing, her voice warping the air, and the sound and light of the wine was captured, wrapping itself around the staff like a blanket as it was woven into complex patterns.


I could feel it through my connection to the Ten Demons Tree. Feel the flex and groan. Inside my soul, I could see the staff floating above the tome despite seeing it right in front of me. As I watched, the illusory staff over the Chronicle began to sprout, growing branches and leaves as it grew.


This wasn't the physical tree. It was its SOUL, the same way my soul was inside the library. The more it grew, the heavier it became. I felt it pressing down on me, as if I was suffocating, but I ignored it. The majority of the weight was slowly offset by the Chronicle as it shifted into a position to bear the strain.


I knew why I'd never seen a D-ranker using a B-ranked weapon. Because without my Chronicle to bear the weight, this would have almost definitely killed me. More than that, I could feel the tree itself adjusting, changing to suit the tome better so it could soak up even more of the strain. My weapon was a living being, an organism and a partner, and it was actively helping me acclimate to the strain, or even with a Chronicle this would have been ROUGH.


Finally, it finished growing. The phantasm of a colossal tree loomed across my library, shading the tome and the rest of the shelves, and I could see the leaves glowing with a pulsing light that reminded me of the wine, the vessels carrying energy throughout the circulatory system of the tree itself.


From the branches, a shimmering mist drifted, and I recognized it as the energy that I'd been using for the Wisdom of Solomon. There was a lot more of it now, which was good, because I was going to need it.


Before I could start exploring that though, I felt something shift. My eyes flew open wide as I retreated to the real world, and I watched in awe as my staff started to change. The pulsing increased in tempo, becoming a rapid shaking. The surface began to shine as the wine started glowing, and steam poured off as half of it evaporated and half was absorbed.


Then there was a loud cracking as fractures began, running down the staff as the surface between the sapsteel started to flake and drop off, revealing white new tree heart underneath, all inscribed with symbols.


All the writing on the staff body glowed the sapsteel tracery tightened, biting into the flesh of the tree as it solidified again, the caps doing the same thing. There was a brief pause, a sort of lull in the air like the world was holding its breath, and then an explosion of force rippled over us, driving us all to our knees.


Impact. Pure and simple. B-ranked Impact driving the breath from our bodies as the staff was elevated, pushed up a rank to stand among the giants near the peak. I could feel the power inside, like my soul was a balloon stretched around a giant lead weight. But as I let it sink in, the excess weight slowly lessened, and that feeling receded as my Chronicle acclimated to its final state.


I let the staff blink back to my soul and then called it to my hand, grinning at the feel of the thing as I whirled it between mm palms. It felt…natural. Right.


There was no way I could just smite a C-ranker with this thing, obviously. There was still a sizable gap between us. But if I stockpiled enough power to put behind a blow, this would hold up under the strain and could POTENTIALLY do real damage. Combined with the utility for helping me complete Callie's project this staff was the only thing that could seriously turn the tables in the current situation for me.


I turned to Bethy, my smile fading when I saw how pale she looked. I glanced at Dayna, who nodded and stepped up next to Bethy, offering up a wrist. As a thrall, Dayne could feed Bethy without agonizing physical pain. Despite her obvious hunger, Bethy refused to eat in front of us, and Chelsea had to grab both of them and drag them away to find a private place for Bethy to get a bite.


After waving off my calls of thanks, they vanished down the hall, and I called Archie to my side. He swooped down, landing on my shoulder, and I scritched him on the back of his neck, which he loved.


Then I headed out to find my wife. I wanted to show her the new weapon, but more importantly, I wanted to get her help. It was time to finally complete her racial trait.


After that, I'd double down on gathering more C-rankers, and we'd spend a week or two preparing before finally making our trip to the capital. Skartaris the Weeper had the key to leaving this place, and it was about time we got a copy.


With my new B-rank staff, all the new stats, and a slew of powerful allies, I felt more prepared for what was to come than I had in a long time. This was just a pit stop on the road to the succession war. Once I got there, the real obstacles would appear. Whatever happened, we would get through it the same way we always had. Together. My friends and I would come out on top, and this time next year, I would be the Wishmaster of the Wish Curse Palace.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The next day we headed to the capital. Veldran got in touch with the Ghost Bone Tower Boss and arranged for our passage. Across the Shoals, the call went out to all the C-rankers we could reach, as well as all the D-rank members of Silent Sorrow, all of us gathering for a conclave at the central Tower to prepare to make a break for the exit.


I was worried about being in the city where Skartaris was based, but I was assured that the Tower Master had the capability to keep us from being discovered. While Skartaris WAS in charge, the Ghost Bone Tower was basically a state within a state, and operated at a similar scale. Silent Sorrow had established themselves deeply within the capital and knew all the right palms to grease to get us in without notice.


I was a bit worried about the trip, but Veldran was insistent it was safe. "You won't run into any problems with Carmichael there," he assured me as he saw us off. "He's one of the Tower's strongest."


That brought me up short. "Wait…he is? But back in the shallow he pretty much broke even with that ice lady."


He blinked at me. "Ice…you mean DIRE FROST? One of the most terrifying servants of the Abyssal Lords? A peak C-ranker with a high level racial trait? Yeah, drawing with her is terrifying. She's almost impossible to pin down in a fight."


Come to think of it, that made a lot of sense. Racial traits were often OP. I'd gotten so used to being around Bethy I had started to think of them as normal. "Well, what makes him so strong?"


"He has a Legendary Boxing Skill," he said bluntly. "Makes him almost unstoppable."


That surprised me. I hadn't heard of anyone who focused enough on a secondary Skill to rank it up ahead past D-rank. It just wasn't a decent use of time when you could be raising a Skill that could become part of your Path or Chronicle. Thinking about it though, a place like the Shoals was EXACTLY the kind of place people would feel driven to do something like that.


Apparently it was difficult to manage though, if Carmichael was famous for being just one rank up.


The man in question arrived next to me. "Alright, I've gotten in touch with Chandra, and he's agreed to lend us one of his candle buggies. It should make the trip much smoother. Dawnrend is a bit of a trip." I noticed Dez was gone, joining her mother and Caldewen in Bonehook. Carmichael had insisted she stay behind to protect her family, and despite her obvious anger at being left back, she couldn't really argue with the necessity. Dez had a scroll with her still, from our earlier deal, so she was her mother and sister's ticket out if the void break happened early.


I glanced around, spotting one of those old fashioned looking cars with the anti mist candles on them. I'd seen a few candles since we got back, and they'd all been flaring up about five inches into the air, looking more like a torch than a candle flame. At the reminder, I glanced up at the slowly descending line of black water. The rain had dropped even closer, infecting the world as it approached. At this rate, we were looking at maybe a week. It seemed to have slowed down as it got lower, but not enough to be a hopeful sign.


We all filed into the car, the inside of which was a spatially expanded room with a bunch of cozy couches, the walls covered with red silk drapes. I turned to Argaunt. "So, how goes the recruiting? The other two Verdyn godchildren onboard?"


He sighed. "Darwen agreed, but Selvara is holding out. I think she wants to get you in a room to try to squeeze you for better terms. She's always been kind of cagey. Dayna would be a better choice to convince her, they grew up together."


Dayna sighed. "Vara is stubborn. Losing and swearing fealty to Lady Bethy would be unforgivable to her. Bringing me up will make you LESS likely to sway her. Not more."


"She's pigheaded, not stupid," Argaunt corrected. "And she was PISSED about being hung out to dry. She was supposed to be a seed for Temple Daughter. One of the strongest of all of us for her rank. Being forced to act as disposable cannon fodder on a mission like this was a massive insult to her. Delenda arranged it, I think."


Dayna grimaced, then noticed our blank expressions. "Peak D-rankers sent here were considered disposable. Too many things could go wrong and leave them stranded. It's why you have a chance to turn some of them. Some of them were sent because they're weak, but some were sent because of politics. The various godchildren all have different positions and duties. The Temple Children are considered the right hand of their god, the ones who pass on their divine decrees. It's an extremely relaxed position, and very sought after. Only the strongest can earn the right to commune with their deity regularly."


"Exactly," said Argaunt. "And Selvara was in the running for that position. But Selvara and Dayna are both orphans from rare species, while Delenda has a powerful family backing her. Delenda pulled some shady shit and got Selvara assigned to sacrificial duty. I don't think anyone expected the void break to come this soon. Raxus is double dealing behind everyone's back, which is admittedly no surprise."


From the look of it, I wasn't even sure Dayna had been warned about the void break at all, or maybe she just found the whole thing distasteful. I couldn't remember what she'd said about the whole thing, and my head was starting to hurt trying to keep track of all the labyrinthine plots.


I pushed it aside. I needed to focus on my OWN plots. What the gods were doing and why was too far above my level to bother with. I needed to stay alive and worry about that shit later.


Callie slumped down into the seat next to me, leaning over against my side. "You're overthinking everything again. Just take a breath and focus on the next step. We need to get to Dawnrend and head to the main Ghost Bone Tower. One thing at a time. Speaking of, it might be nice to know where we're going when we arrive. Do any of you have a map or anything? We've been flying blind for a while now."


Carmichael nodded. "Veldran assumed you'd want one. So I borrowed a mirror map."


Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a mirror. "I have to give this one back, so be careful." He set it down on a coffee table between the couches, and there was a low flash and then…a city was there. It was a hologram, projected from the mirror to float in front of us like a scale model of the gaudiest collection of buildings I'd ever laid eyes on.


Dawnrend was made of gold. All of it. The whole place looked like a normal city that someone had dumped molten metal across, coating the buildings with the stuff. No windows, few doors.


I whistled. "That's…pretty hideous. Did Skartaris build that?"


Carmichael waggled a hand. "Kind of? He took an existing ruin and plated it with the most durable metal he could find. Abyssal Gold. That's a C-rank metal mined from the depths of the ocean, and one of the sturdiest. Despite the ugly appearance, it's never been successfully sieged. And people have tried. We think that the agreement to supply that gold was one of the earliest cooperations between Skartaris and the Abyssal Lords."


He pointed to a spire on the left hand side of the projection, then to a gate beyond it. "This is the Ghost Bone Tower. We'll be entering the city through the undergate. For every entrance, there's a matching access point below ground. The boss had them installed to enable some of the smuggling operations that both sides benefit from, though we get more use out of them. The undergate will be guarded by Silent Sorrow personnel, so your entry will go unremarked."


"I don't think I'm going to be in TOO much danger," I said thoughtfully. "While the godchildren are looking for me, I think half the reason they moved up the void break was so they could just send some C-rankers in en masse to shake me down. I'm sure they'd still kill me if they could, but I doubt I'm a priority, even for them.


"Skartaris, meanwhile, has even less reason to care about me," I grimaced at how over my head I was, thinking about the local monarch. "My scrolls are valuable, so I'm not a non-entity, but I doubt I'm a focus with so much going on. Especially not if Silent Sorrow are making their move."


Carmichael nodded. "The boss has always been a problem for him. But the layers of secrecy and compartmentalization in place makes discovering which of his inner circle is in charge untenable, and peak C-rankers can't be so easily replaced. The council are the strongest Ascendants in the shoals, so just getting rid of them all is off the table. With the boss ready to come out of the shadows, even with backup inbound once the void break happens, he must be floundering."


I tried to decide if that was an ocean pun, but ignored it to focus on his comments. "That means the conclave itself will be a huge danger, doesn't it? Like what if they catch us and lay siege to the Tower?"


"Won't work," said Argaunt, cutting in. "You're thinking too logically. Skartaris is a despot. The whole reason the Tower Master managed to put together this force is because people are sick of his shit. If he brings the fight out into the open, he's immediately calling due every debt and contract, assuming that things will shake out on his side. Any of his people who were on the fence will be forced to pick a side, and they might not pick his."


Carmichael made a noise of agreement. "Exactly. As long as he lets it drag out, no one draws a line in the sand. Then, when the Void Children show up, all the hedgers will see the way the wind is blowing and fall in line. Lets him maintain his forces at maximum capacity when the Void Children arrive. He's not an idiot, so he doesn't TRUST them, and he'll want as many of his C-rankers as possible to try to smooth over the transition of power.


"After that, he'll probably just LEAVE, since C-rankers won't be sealed here, and as a peak C-ranker, he can break through as soon as he's out, as can many of his people," he grimaced at the mental image. "An army of B-rankers would be a welcome force in many factions, I would assume."


I nodded. "Definitely. The five faction alliance might raise a fuss about the void, but, the vanished gods won't. Hell they were INVOLVED. I'd be shocked if one or more of the godchildren isn't courting them in expectation of that breakthrough."


Which meant the connection between them might be deeper than expected. That was a scary thought.


We discussed our entrance, going over a few contingencies in case we were noticed. Just because I didn't expect trouble didn't mean I shouldn't prepare for it. After an hour, we had it all settled, and Carmichael put away the map, obviously relieved by the fact that it wasn't at risk anymore. I wondered if he also borrowed that from Chandra. If so, that guy must be pretty scary.


With the planning done, all that was left was to wait. I closed my eyes, entering my library to resume work on Callie's new racial trait. I still had a ways to go, but I was hoping to finish it before everything went wrong. I wanted her to be as safe as possible for what was coming.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

I was pulled out of my work when the car stopped. Despite the interior dimension being mostly detached from the sensations of travel (thankfully), braking seemed to make an obvious impact on our trip. We emerged into a cavern of indeterminate size. The whole place was so massive I had trouble seeing the edges, although admittedly all the light came from crystals erupting from the ceiling in the center.


We'd stopped in the middle of a big open space, in front of a large spiral staircase leading up into the dark. Carmichael stared at it as we stopped. "Been a long time since I've been back here," he admitted heavily. "I'd forgotten how much presence the city has."


I recognized his complicated tone. "Are you from here?"


"I am," he nodded. "Dez was actually born here. We left shortly after her birth. That's how I ended up being recruited by the Tower. One of the members owns a boxing gym. Chandra and I used to go there when we were kids. I showed some talent, so Old Ramsey took me under his wing, and the rest, as they say, is history."


"Do you want to go see the gym?" I asked him after a minute. "Between Callie and I, we can walk you right up to the place without anyone noticing."


He shook his head. "I wouldn't count on that. Your stealth is good, but there are detection specialists in Dawnrend I would advise against underestimating. Safer to stick to the Tower and the surrounding areas. Nobody spies on the boss. Not if they want to live to tell about it."


My sister cut in. "Good. The surrounding area thing. We need a break. Not like, downtime in the complex, but an actual few days moving around in a normal town. We've been either hiding or reacting since we got here. You and Callie might be fine holing up underground for date night, brother mine, but the rest of us aren't lame old married people." She stopped, turning to glance at Mel and Abel. "Well, most of us."


Abel rolled his eyes. "Yes, because your social life is so rich and fulfilling."


Holly snorted, and Chelsea shot her a betrayed look. The angel shrugged. "What, he's not wrong. You're just as big a loner as your brother. You still have us though. And Gabe and Bethy. And I guess Dayna now, since she kind of comes as a package deal with Bethy."


"We could use some downtime too," Bella spoke up. "We've been on the run since we freed the others. Elena wants to call her son and check on him. That IS safe, right?"


"That might need to wait, unfortunately," I told her with a sigh. I turned to Elena, who was grouped up with Ray, Desria, Cavallo, Chess, and Daysia. They'd also sort of adopted Dom and Sable, from what I could tell, splitting the group into two separate camps. "How are you doing? I know you said you aren't mad about being sucked into this, but I know you haven't seen Simon in a while. How was he when you left?"


Despite the circumstances, she beamed at me. "He's doing great. Which is worth a bit of hassle. Don't worry about me. I'm gathering some souvenirs to bring him when I head home, and I have plenty of amazing stories. I don't need to call him right away."


"Yeah, our connection to the outside is pretty much nonexistent," I said apologetically. "Otherwise we'd be able to get in touch with my grandparents."


I turned to Argaunt, who was mostly keeping to himself. "Can you get in touch with some of the other godchildren? Not sure how you reached out to yours, but I'm sure some of them are in Dawnrend. You might be the best person to make the offer for me. Although I would avoid Raxus's remaining two. I just don't trust anything to do with that guy."


"Probably smart," he admitted. "Raxus worshippers are notoriously sadistic. His constant mind games tend to twist them pretty badly. That leaves us at fifteen total for the C-rankers, if we get all the others."


I nodded. "Forty five most likely, including the thirty from the tower. I might see id the Tower can use the scrolls to flip some of the others." I glanced at my wife. "Do you know how long it'll take for the C-rankers to be able to leave once the Shallow expands to the whole dungeon? Like is it going to be instant?"


She frowned, closing her eyes and concentrating. "I think…no. Once the Shallow is complete, the void break will start, but it won't be immediate. The dungeon will absorb the shielding around itself to fuel the conversion, and it'll take six months or so to settle. Of course, the void connection will become active immediately. C-rankers from the void will start filing in as soon as the water reaches the ground."


"Then we can probably turn some of them," I nodded. "We might even be able to snag some of the peak C-rankers for ourselves and let them break through after leaving. I'm awfully short on B-rankers going into the succession war."


Carmichael brightened. "That's a good idea. It won't be many. Condensing a Chronicle is HARD, and most C-rankers can't manage. I've got mine, I had to before I could rank up my boxing to Legendary, but it's not common. I can probably break through once I'm out, to be honest. And I'd be willing to work for you, assuming you can get my wife and daughters out when we leave."


That perked me right up. "I'd be happy to. We can talk to the Tower Master about bringing them here when we have a chance. Speaking of, when am I going to meet him, exactly?"


"Not soon," Carmichael grimaced. "The boss's position is a bit delicate. Most of the Tower's operations are supported by his anonymity. The inner circle has a wide range of duties and responsibilities, and the Tower intersects with most of them. By remaining in the shadows, the boss prevents Skartaris from acting directly against the Tower."


I cocked my head. "How so?"


"Basically, any serious attempt to uproot the tower would require the involvement of several inner circle members," he clarified. "Skartaris isn't a general. He doesn't DO leadership. He delegates. The boss's position didn't become clear until the system had been in place for a while, and Skartaris had already distributed his power too widely."


"Oh," I said as I figured out where he was going with that. "So he needs to use the inner council members to tap into the resources he would have to use to uproot the Tower. And if he picks the wrong one…"


He nodded. "And not just one. The boss has more than just himself on his side. Like I said before, if he forces them to pick a side and they don't pick his, all the masks come off. And he doesn't know what's behind those masks. He's a paranoid sadist, and while he DOES have people loyal to him, he doesn't REALLY trust them. The boss has turned his entire power structure into a trap that he can't get out of."


"But it only works if there are shadows for him to jump at," I nodded. "So the boss has to stay hidden until the last second, otherwise all the deterrence is gone. How is he going to leave with us then?"


"I assume he'll request one of your scrolls," he said with a shrug. "Do you get any sort of name or identity information when you grant wishes?"


I paused. "I…don't, actually. I never really noticed that. I know who makes a wish because I know who I gave the scrolls to. He could make a wish, and I would be able to grant it. But it would preclude negotiation if he wanted to remain hidden. I don't know who makes a wish, but I know the terms. He would need to arrange for several of his people to agree to identical terms to disguise who he was."


"I'm sure he'll figure something out," he assured me. "The boss is a genius, otherwise he couldn't have built this empire within Skartaris's corrupt system."


We had all mounted the spiral stairs and were heading up, talking as we walked. Callie seemed distracted, and I took her hand in mine, interlacing our fingers. She squeezed my hand, shooting me a warm smile as she felt the support I was pushing through the bond. "Speaking of the corrupt system, why don't you fill us in on who we're up against, especially the inner circle."


"That might be a decent idea," he said with a grimace. "You'll be running into them eventually. But this isn't the place. Too many ears. Wait until we get to the tower and I'll fill you in." We both nodded, and then focused more on our surroundings as we rose up from the ground.


The spiral staircase we'd ascended came out into a warehouse, but once we emerged, we were in for a pretty strange sight. Dawnrend looked weird from the outside, but from the inside it was actually surprisingly nice. While the gold plated buildings were still odd, the streets were set with shiny black tiles that had traceries of gold designs swirling through them. Up close, I could see that the plating had settled into complicated designs and engravings on the ruins underneath the gold.


The swirling designs in the street tiles blended seamlessly into the building patterns, creating a strange panoramic effect that blended the street and buildings into an almost two dimensional image. The resulting effect was basically the opposite of the gimmick in movies where someone paints a really realistic picture on a wall or on the ground and someone thinks it's a hole or tunnel.


Walking around in it was incredibly surreal, but we got used to it pretty fast, and Carmichael pointed out variations in the street patterns that he told us were designed to help you navigate. Different symbols showed us where we were and where we were going. It was pretty impressive to me that they'd managed to work that into the designs while also keeping them perfectly in balance with the ones on the buildings, which didn't seem to have the same features.


Finally, we arrived at the spire. "Alright, we'll all be staying here," Carmichael told us as we came to a stop. "Like I said, you're good to move around within range of the tower. Basically, make sure you don't leave the section of the city where the streets have this pattern on them." He pointed to a strange recursive loop that had worked itself into the street patterns about ten miles back.


"This is the pattern for the tower district, and nobody starts anything here," he assured us. "The tower guard patrol the streets, and causing issues isn't worth the trouble. Even Skartaris's people don't have that much time to waste." He reached into a pocket, pulling out a small cloth bag. "These are tower tokens. Bone coins aren't allowed in Dawnrend, which honestly should have been a red flag from the moment I heard it, but growing up it was just the way things were done.


"These should be enough spending money to amuse yourselves for the next few days while everyone gathers," he turned to Argaunt. "You can come with me. We need to check in with the cloak to get the information you need about your targets. The rest of you…enjoy your downtime. Oh, and here." He tossed me something, and I caught it reflexively, only noticing after I opened my hand that it was his ghost bone stone.


I furrowed my brow. "You sure I should have this?"


"I'll get another," he assured me. "This will let you access the tower and give you more say over where you stay. I'll take Argaunt up to check in. Get settled in and we can talk later." And with that, he turned and headed off through the tower door. Staring at the others, I shrugged and followed, though I turned off toward the front desk instead of following him up a set of stairs. Guess we needed to pick our rooms.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Carmichael took a bit to get Argaunt settled in, and in the meantime, we were all given rooms to stay in. The rooms were BIG. Like, each individual one was an apartment sized chamber. Callie and I were given a huge two story condo looking space with an open concept kitchen. We could see the second floor balcony from the mostly empty living room, and the wall opposite that was made of windows, exposing a view of the rest of Dawnrend, and even the island beyond it.


Most of the view was hidden by the slowly descending clouds, the entire sky a mass of black water, but the city was still a sight, even if it was fairly ugly at first glance.


The more we looked, the more interesting and complex the building designs looked, and the more we could spot the traceries of patterns across the surfaces, even from this distance. I walked over and settled on a stylish but comfortable couch with a sigh.


I had to admire the apartment. They'd really gone all out. Dark marble floors, they'd laid down a thick area rug in the center of the couches. Between the den area and the window, a pair of glass sheets rose from the ground, connecting to a sort of water enclosure, with the water flowing down one sheet and back up the other. Fish swam in the enclosure, which appeared to be floating above the floor. Normal fish, not terrifying evil fish.


We were the last ones to get a room, and it had taken long enough that there was a sharp knock at the door within minutes of me sitting down. I'd taken off my mask, and I shot my wife a pleading look as I groaned in dissatisfaction at the idea of getting up.


"You're so dramatic," she sighed in amusement as she rolled her eyes. "You're lucky you're cute and can cook."


I smirked at her as she headed to the door, checking through the peephole before pulling it open. "Carmichael, hey. Come on in. Guessing you're here to fill us in on the inner circle?" We'd been waiting for this conversation, so his arrival wasn't much of a surprise.


"I am," he nodded. "I introduced Argaunt to a guide, set him up with a meeting with the cloak to get some more detailed information, and then headed here. You'll need to know what you're going up against before things go bad. Best case scenario is that we can make a deal to get to the exit, but I wouldn't count on it. Skartaris is pretty much hitching his whole wagon to the void at this point, and letting you go would be stupid."


I shrugged. "Nothing is ever that easy. We've been preparing for a fight since we showed up. We're looking at around two to one odds, and there are steps we can take to counter that. Mostly I'm feeling rushed to get the hell out of this place before that water touches the ground. I can't imagine that'll be something we want to be here for."


"Confirmed," Callie said bluntly. "We absolutely do NOT want that. Actually, I think establishing my racial trait before we leave would be best. My connection with the void…it worries me. Even if we won't be here when the shallow is complete, I want to eliminate it as quickly as possible."


I nodded. "I'm almost done. I've been working on it the whole time, and I'm putting a lot into it. The staff evolving was enough to completely overhaul the whole project, so I had to start over, but it's worth it. You'll see. For now, let's focus on what we need to know. Alright Carmichael, give us the details."


He nodded. "The inner circle are the ten most powerful generals under Skartaris," he said after a brief pause. It seemed like he was thinking about the best order to do things in. "They have wildly varying abilities, skills, and temperaments. Each of them deals with some major aspect of the Shoals."


"Waylon Dreft is the Master of Currency. The minting of the scales and presumably the bone coins are his domain." He grimaced. "It's safe to say he's involved with the void. I can't imagine how he could have avoided that interaction, given his duties, and he's a DEEPLY unpleasant person. More accurately, he's a deeply unpleasant DRAGON, albeit a relatively weak variant."


I blinked at him. "Wait…he's a dragon? Like…a transformed beast? That's super rare though, isn't it? Most beasts become a more powerful version of their animal form when they rank up, don't they?"


"Yes," he agreed. "And dragons are even less likely to assume human form. They're incredibly prideful and powerful creatures. Waylon isn't a purebred dragon though. More accurately, he's a dragon ANT. Don't ask me why that's a thing, I couldn't say. Regardless, he maintains racial advantages after taking human shape, and he's dangerous.


"Next we have Alanna Rein, the current Mistress of Inquiry," he looked uneasy. "She's scary. She's got a Legendary Sword Skill. She's in charge of the Mistwardens as a whole. She MIGHT not be a Skartaris sympathizer. I've never been able to pin down exactly who she works for, but she's a very dangerous combatant and a highly respected military officer. If we can get her on our side it would be a HUGE win."


I was impressed, and said so. "How many people with Legendary Skills do you think there are in here?" Anyone who had a Legendary Skill, according to Carmichael, had a Chronicle, though the inverse was obviously not true.


"No more than two or three," he assured me. "If it wasn't rare, I wouldn't be considered so dangerous. I don't have confirmation of anyone else. Alanna is just extremely open about her sword proficiency. Third is Crell Preost. He's the Master of Ceremonies, responsible for any large gatherings, INCLUDING the court. His ability is called Doubt."


I blinked at him. "What…what does that do?"


"Basically, he can convince people their abilities don't work," he said with a grimace. "He uses flawed logic to point out holes in your techniques and Skills, and if you buy into it, they stop working."


"That's…so fucking broken," I said in an appaled voice. Most techniques were based on stories people told themselves. If you could take them apart by poking holes, especially if you had some way to SEE what those stories were, you could disable most Ascendants. Granted, my case would probably be an exception. The existence of my Library means that my techniques are recorded and perfected. Assuming he could FIND a flaw, I still wouldn't question my tome, because I had perfected and engraved it in my mind.


The issue there was that I was a D-ranker, and this guy was a C-ranker. Which meant that we'd need one of our C-rankers to counter him. He was at the peak of his rank, not someone I'd be able to keep up with even if I used all my tricks. I might be able to finish him off if they pinned him down, but since I wasn't sure they COULD with a power like that.


It was one of those abilities like moment chop that was just extremely well suited to dealing with ninety nine percent of people and luckily not me. One of the benefits of spreading myself so wide, I had counters for most things.


"I'm guessing you're introducing them in order of importance. Do you know if there are any we DON'T need to worry about?" He couldn't confirm whether those three were on our side, but some of the inner circle had to be demonstrably in the tower's corner, otherwise they wouldn't have the influence they did.


He nodded. "Master of Martial Force Carmine Zevka and Mistress of Soothing Whispers Delilah Scorz. Alanna is in control of the military, and Carmine runs the arenas and duelling houses, as well as controlling the mercenary guilds. Delilah is the tower's spy mistress. She's better informed than anyone in the Shoals. The Master of Medicine, Zellman Drexel, is neutral, and will help anyone he thinks needs it. We can probably count on him for this, considering what's coming."


He listed the other five, and they all had different jobs. Stuff like logistics, sewage, and a bunch of other pretty underwhelming sounding stuff. When he finished, he sighed. "We don't know which of them is the boss, like I said. A lot of people assume it's one of the big three. Carmine and Delilah are unlikely because they're so up front about their allegiance to the tower. But it might be a double bluff. Or the boss could be Drevan Swull, the Master of City Planning for all we know."


Despite that last statement, he didn't sound convinced by that one. I got the impression he agreed with the assumption that the boss was probably one of the top three. Or rather, one of the latter two. The Dragon Ant seemed unlikely, based on what he'd said about him.


Speaking of whom, I was really interested in meeting him. Not to fight, but because I didn't think I'd ever met a human form beast before. I knew that racial traits were somehow related to them, at least based on my own calculations, and Carmichael's comment about advantages reaffirmed that, but if I could meet one, it might help with my research.


"Are there any other human form beasts in the Shoals?" I asked him after a minute. "Like…ones who are on our side?"


He nodded. "One of the tower C-rankers used to be an bull, why?"


"Can I meet him?" I was getting excited now. If I could study a humanized beast I was sure Callie's racial trait would take huge leaps forward. Racial traits, at least the ones I'd seen, started human and then added the nature of monsters or other entities. I had assumed, based on my experience with the Wendigos, that they added recursion too, but knowing what I did now, I suspected the Wendigo spring had actually been pouring Wendigo MYTHOLOGY into people.


He shrugged. "I mean, Farren isn't exactly a people person, but sure, I don't see why not. I can set that up. He's here for the conclave anyway, which starts in a few days, by the way. He's probably here early, so I'll reach out."


"Thanks," I told him gratefully. "How are Dez, Caladwen, and your wife? Did you get in touch with them?"


He smiled gratefully. "They're on the way now. I had them tag along with a friend who was heading here, so they're safe until they arrive. I can't thank you enough for helping Dez. I don't want my family stuck in this hellscape."


I grimaced. "I'd rather not leave anyone, but at this point, I'm more worried about surviving. I'm hoping that once the gods find out about the Shallow they'll send someone in to clean it out and hopefully help the locals. I assume that Skartaris won't let the Void Children just massacre all of them right away?"


He shook his head. "Not likely. The population are his source of income and the foundation of his rule. He wouldn't sign off on killing them until the last minute, when he's ready to leave."


That tracked with what I knew of Ascendants too. He'd probably stage some grand sacrifice so he could harvest all the renown. We continued talking for a while, Carmichael filling us in on some of the inner workings of the city, before he finally said his goodbyes and left.


After that, Callie stood up, grabbed my hand, and pulled me to my feet. "Now, with that out of the way, I believe I'm owed some alone time." She pulled me in for a kiss, and I relaxed as I held her against me. Tomorrow we could start our planning. For now, I just wanted some peace and quiet.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The next day, after making my scrolls, I met with Dirk, the humanized Bull. I had to admit, I was pretty excited. I'd met plenty of beasts, but none of them had taken human form. I'd been told that most animals had no interest in assuming a human shape on rank up, and it could only happen after D-rank. Theoretically, it could happen ANY time after D-rank, but when an animal spent its whole life ranking up into a higher level form of beast, it took a big mental shift for it to change its spots, so to speak.


I was excited to see a human for beast, which I guessed was an ancestor to things like racial traits. Lucky for us, Dirk didn't seem to mind taking a meeting for Carmichael. They weren't friends or anything, but Carmichael was famous in Silent Sorrow.


Callie came with me, but we left the others to their relaxation as we made our way to a conference room on the fifth floor. When we arrived, we knocked loudly, and after a minute, a muffled voice called "C'min!" I glanced at my wife, who shrugged, and I pushed the door open, Mornax ready just in case.


I was back in my mask and armor, of course, and I was the sturdier of the two of us. I didn't expect trouble, but that was usually when it showed up, so better safe than sorry.


When we stepped inside, I was surprised to see that there was only one person at the table. Specifically, one very LARGE person with food piled high in front of him. The man was colossal, at least seven feet tall and carved from pure muscle. He had a healthy tan and brown eyes, and his hair was long and wild.


In front of him, the table was laden with dishes covered with every kind of food imaginable. Chicken, fish, fruit, vegetables, baked goods. It was a veritable buffet, and Dirk's dinner plate sized hands were grabbing up a large chunk of food with every breath, stuffing it into his mouth as he swallowed, sometimes chopping through the bone in his haste to eat. He looked ravenously hungry, and his eyes barely twitched off the smorgasbord in front of him.


"Dirk?" I asked after a full minute of nonstop devouring. He froze, blinking at us.


"Oh, right," he said with a mouth full of turkey. "You. You want some?" He pushed a huge plate of honey baked ham toward us.


I shook my head. "We're good, we ate earlier. We can come back if you're busy."


He shook his head. "Nah, this is just my midday snack." At our shocked look, he swallowed everything and laughed. "Yeah, people are usually pretty shocked. When a beast transforms into a human, it usually keeps some of its animalistic traits. I was a Heaven Swallowing Bull in D-rank, so when I transformed, I brought my tough hide, my strong legs, and my appetite."


I sat down across from him, intrigued. "So, your appetite is kind of like one of the modifiers on a racial trait? Is it just hunger, or does it give you some ability?"


He hummed, pausing to think. "I mean, I heal pretty quick. And I always get extra hungry when I'm hurt. I dislocated my shoulder in a fight earlier, so my snack is a bit bigger than usual. Is that what you mean?"


It was. "Do you mind if I use an ability on you?" I asked. "Nothing TOO intrusive, just a detection power."


I didn't know Dirk well enough to inspect his soul. But I also didn't necessarily NEED to. Dantalion was optimized for body investigation. While I could do soul checks, I needed permission and assistance. But bodies were much easier. Coincidentally, beasts integrated their stats into their bodies directly.


That thought made me pause. From what I knew, the soul and body merged at S-rank, with the Saga acting as a medium. Paths created a bridge between physical and spiritual, letting the soul merge with the flesh.


But animals integrated stats into their bodies and not their souls. Was that why they didn't need a Path? Or did they have Paths we weren't aware of? I'd never seen an S-rank beast, not had I HEARD of anything higher. I knew god beasts existed, but I'd never heard anyone talk about one directly.


Far from being a non sequitur, this line of thought was integral to how I created Callie's racial trait. I triggered Dantalion after he agreed and sat there for the next twenty minutes while he ate, investigating what I found.


It was…fascinating. First was the stats. They did make up the body, not just metaphysically, but they were used to create a solid mass. In humans, the stats affect the soul, which spills over to alter the body, but in this case, they had been combined into something similar to a Skill construct, but more tangible. It took me a bit to recognize where I knew it from. Specifically, it reminded me of a Chronicle.


In fact, looking at it that way, the entire concept of a Chronicle and subsequently a Saga merging with the body might have been a method to try to mimic this effect. I wondered if early cultivation was based entirely off beasts. Not just racial traits, but all cultivation. Paths, Skills, Chronicles.


Studying Dirk, I learned a few things. First, I couldn't create a physical construct body for Callie. I had no mechanism to do it. Chronicles were complicated soul bullshit, and while I'd MADE one, I had no clue how it worked.


Even if I'd been able to design a physical reformation like that, I wouldn't know how to apply it. Racial traits were applied to the soul, and changed the body that way. It was a natural mechanism and the body did half the work. Second, because of the way the stats integrated with the flesh, Dirk's body made more…sense. It was more grounded. Vitality where his heart and stomach were, Might where the muscles were, Perception in the eyes. It was more linear, more logical. This was what I would imagine a person looked like if they were made out of stats.


From what I could tell, even though racial traits mimicked this effect, the results were more irrational. The soul wasn't a physical thing, so it didn't obey physical rules. A racial trait body was different than a normal person, changed, but the mechanism of that change was kind of abstruse. It didn't follow any specific rules.


Which meant I needed to be very careful with my design. The soul wasn't as restricted in the changes it made, and the changes that DID apply weren't always ones you could understand or guess at. I'd been having trouble decoding racial traits that I'd been studying, and this seemed to be the main reason. Some of the things they did, they SHOULDN'T do.


With Callie's trait, I had a baseline. Angels of multiple types to use as a template, and Sammel to experiment with. If I stuck to that, I'd be safe enough.


But a lot of the theoretical changes and exciting new mechanics I'd been daydreaming about had to be scrapped. I wanted Callie to be strong, and she would be, but field testing that trait in the way I'd planned on doing would be way too dangerous. Anything could happen, and I had no intention of risking my wife.


It ALSO explained some things about racial traits I'd known but hadn't understood. Ones that I needed to know. Namely, it explained why it wasn't possible to make a racial trait out of a Skill that wasn't the primary. The main Skill for job users or the ability for heroic cultivators. It was because that Skill was already connected to the soul and had a direct influence on the body through that. It was the same reason you couldn't rank your main Skill up past your current rank. It was part of you.


Normally, this would mean that I was functionally incapable of making Callie a different species. We were waiting to merge the Path skill with the racial trait until she ranked up, making sure that it had been refined and perfected as best as possible before combining them, so it could suppress the Abyssal influence.


This would have meant waiting until she was at the peak of D-rank to apply the racial trait…under normal circumstances. But Callie had another option. Namely, she had another Skill connected to her soul, and one that I could directly influence. Master Paired Duelling.


If I used the bond as the anchor for her racial trait, not only would I be able to apply it early, I could also help her keep it stable. She could access Sammael through the bond to bolster it if her Path skill got overwhelming, and she could access the library and the staff and consistently refine and upgrade it like I did my forms, laying the foundation for the merge when she broke through to C-rank.


Callie had been silently watching as I worked through all this, but at my burst of enthusiasm her eyes lit up, and I put my arm around her, pulling her tight against me in a side hug. "Hey Dirk, I think I'm good. You need anything else?"


The bull Ascendant shrugged. "Not really," he said, swallowing the last of his current mouthful. "You don't need to like…talk a bunch? I kind of figured I'd have to talk a bunch. Humans talk way too much."


I laughed, shaking my head. "We're good. You can get back to your snack. We appreciate the help."


"Whatever," he said with a shrug, effectively dismissing us from his presence as he began actively ignoring us. I had to hide a smile as we left. He reminded me a bit of Callie when she was really in the zone digging through loot.


"So, what did you figure out?" my wife asked me as we left.


I grinned. "Everything. That was the last piece that I needed to finish. Tonight I'm going to complete the final form of your racial trait, and we can finally apply it. The way I have it set up, it should act as a filter for the influence from your Path Skill, at least until it can evolve enough to directly counter it."


Connecting it to the bond was genius, if I did say so myself. It would allow her to use the Ten Demons Tree to evolve it consistently without needing me to actively work on it. Which was good, because I was not even remotely confident now that I could properly make a racial trait from scratch.


The uncertainty and irregularity of the soul method of body modification meant any new things I tried could have almost any effect. The unpredictability made heavy experimentation completely untenable. I had some ideas for how to make sure the trait would still be powerful and counteract the Abyssal influence, but it would be based on energy construction, not on the actual design. That would be close to the boilerplate angel design.


Still, Callie looked so relieved it broke my heart. I knew from the bond how unsettled she was by the experience of knowing things out of nowhere. The Path was convenient for us right now, but it scared my wife, she was terrified it was changing her in ways recursion didn't, and that she might never be able to change back.


It wasn't, of course, I'd have noticed, but I was glad I could give her peace of mind. With that out of the way, we headed back to our rooms. This time, we didn't call anyone for the process. This was going to be just the two of us. The bond being part of this made it deeply personal. Still, I couldn't wait. By this time tomorrow, Callie would officially be safe from the Abyss. At least for now.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

When we got back to the room, Callie and I called everyone, letting them know not to disturb us, and then settled in to begin the real work. Deciding the best place to do said work was the library, we sat in the living room together, linked hands, closed our eyes, and then I pulled her through the bond into my inner world.


We arrived in the library without much fanfare. Callie blinked in shock as she looked at the Ten Demons Tome. Namely, at the giant ass spectral TREE that now floated above it. "Well…that's new."


I forgot that she hadn't been in here since the staff ranked up. "Yeah, that happened when the Ten Demons Tree hit B-rank. I have no idea why, but it seems to make using it way easier. That vapor shaking from the leaves is the stuff that Wisdom of Solomon runs on. So I can use it way more often."


"So, let's get started," I said excitedly, clapping my hands. I pulled her to a table, where I dropped a dozen books. "So, these are the tomes for your racial trait. Or rather, they're the tomes that recorded all the data I was able to dig up from the others. After what I learned from Dirk, I'm going to pull these two." I snagged the Vampire and Heaven Murder Elf tome, and tossed them on a shelf. "These two are the angel tomes, and this one is Sammael."


I picked up a fourth. "This one is Chelsea's ability. This is where we're going to get the secret sauce. I'm designing your ability specifically to offset the problems with your Path. Now Sammael is imbued with Enshrining Darkness, which is powerful, but it has some sort of connection to the Abyss. Which means it's not optimal for your form."


Flipping through the book, I grinned. "BUT, that doesn't mean we can't use it. Chelsea's ability, or rather, her ABILITIES, allow her to balance the two different energy types she inherited from my grandparents."


"One of these is Enshrining Darkness itself, and the other is the flame of purification." I flipped through the angel books, studying the construction of the racial traits as best I could, and comparing them to the construct I used for Sammael. Based on my observations, Sammael…shouldn't work. It was deeply flawed. My soul picked up the slack, self correcting the form, but it needed lots of work.


This was less of an issue than it might have been, though. I'd had a parallel down here researching for a while, and a large portion of that had been running Sammael through the Ten Demons Tree, experiencing it deeply and slowly evolving it, accumulating lots of data about the deeper mechanics and the mythology of the form.


I COULD have used the Wisdom of Solomon to iterate it to perfection, but I didn't want it to be perfect yet. Room for improvement meant I could incorporate new elements.


And I did mean elements. As in, plural. "Alright, so here's the plan. I want your feedback here, because this is your racial trait, and you'll be stuck with it for the rest of your life. Probably. I can't design a new species. I know WAY less than I thought I did, and the complexity is so far beyond me it isn't funny. But that doesn't mean I can't do anything useful. Angels have base elements, concepts that define them. The flames the girls use, Enshrining Darkness, and so on.


"What I want to do is use CHelsea's ability interaction, specifically her Path, which bridges the gap, to create a dual element angelic trait." I spun the book to show her. "Now, by balancing the two improperly, I can make room for you to integrate the Abyssal Path into your trait before you rank up."


She hummed with interest. "Ok, but correct me if I'm wrong, wouldn't that just make me imbalanced in the OTHER direction? That's bad too, right?"


"Depends what we use," I shrugged. "I'm planning to use Leviathan as a base. It's a domain, not a form, but they're still related. It should work. Leviathan has a soul strengthening method built INTO it, and Zagan's purification and lifeforce enhancement aspects are nothing but positive. I'll use Enshrining Darkness to offset, like Chelsea has. Because Leviathan is so heavily altered and upgraded, Enshrining Darkness should be substantially weaker."


The Enshrining Darkness ability was divine. It was SCARY. But it was ultimately just a normal ability. It wasn't a Domain, at least not the version I was using. It was Chelsea's inherited version. Strong and laden with mythology, but still just a high tier power.


It should mix PERFECTLY with the Abyss when Callie was ready, and the power from Leviathan would balance the combination. Especially with Callie's connection to my own soul. When we did this, we'd be upgrading the bond itself, so our connection would get even deeper. I was pretty sure Sammael might actually mutate due to the connection, though I wasn't positive.


She studied the books, flipping around, reading the stories, and missing the underlying construction. The tomes weren't really designed for the average joe to read. The stats that were used in their creation were sort of in two states, stat and construct, and it took a certain processing ability to sort through them. She could still read the stories they told though, and that gave her some basic idea of how things worked.


Finally, she nodded. "Alright. If you think you can do it. Can you integrate Chelsea's Path into this? Between that, the Enshrining Darkness, and Leviathan, this seems…busy."


"I have a LOT of juice to run the Wisdom of Solomon," I shrugged. "I can afford to be ambitious. Since I can't alter the template much, I need to make sure your energy is leagues beyond any other angel. Altering the conceptual makeup is the best I can do for you. This will give you the best possible starting point. Once you finish integrating the Abyss, you should be a top tier racial trait user. Maybe not BETHY, but who is?"


After I got her permission, I started my work. Closing my eyes, I reached out to the tree. This was my first time using the Wisdom of Solomon since my staff had ranked up. Rather than just treat it like a machine, I decided to lean into the tree theme. Symbolism and stories were important aspects of technique creation, and forms were very similar. I was going about this racial trait thing from my strong points, so I needed to go all out.


Luckily, I had a good idea how to proceed. First I grabbed all the books that I was planning to use and carried them to the pedestal. Lifting them up, I speared them through with the roots, letting them float in the air as the ethereal appendages of the illusory tree held them pinned in the air like a butterfly on a card.


Closing my eyes, I reached out through the tree, feeling the tomes at the ends of the roots. The staff, consciousness still pretty murky, was there in the background, eager to help, so I allowed it to assist as I pulled through the roots, drawing the water vapor floating around the leaves into the roots. The energy, that unquantifiable substance that allowed this mechanism (I suspected now that it was some form of mythology), soaked into the books, then was sucked out by the roots, drawing the latent information inside them up into the tree.


Having absorbed the information, the concepts began to mix, iterations coming forth, but instead of playing out in my head like a computer, fruits began to grow on the branches. Because of the connection between my soul and the tree, a glance at the fruit told me everything I needed to know about it.


One fruit was round and dark, and that one was just pure Enshrining Darkness, one had slight swirls of green, and that was clearly Zagan. The tree was concocting the fruits based on all of the elements. Not just the ones I wanted, it was starting with single aspects and then mixing them. The lowest level of the canopy held more simple single color fruits, but as it climbed they began to shift and mix, introducing strange patterns and unusual side effects.


It was dizzying. Even sticking to the main template, the changes I was making to the racial trait kept mutating it into strange variants. Three winged angels, tree angels, angels made of pure darkness. The more information it gathered though, the more perfected they became. Not just from the books but from previous instances, I was able to see the improvement as the fruits climbed the tree.


Sadly, that wasn't all I could see. The vapor was draining away FAST. I'd had way more of it than the last time I'd used this ability, and I was already almost out. I focused on a few of the most promising fruits and urged the tree to concentrate in those directions, splitting off a series of parallels to help it sort through the data.


Finally, right before I ran out of vapor, the process finished. At the top of the tree, situated in the same place the fruit had been back when it had just been a sapling, sat a single lustrous fruit. It was round and shiny, with mixed swirls of black through its mostly green and gold surface, creating strange swirling patterns that made me dizzy to look at. Reaching up, I beckoned to the fruit and it plucked itself, falling in a parabolic arc to smack casually into my palm. As soon as it was picked, the other fruits withered and dissolved, leaving the tree empty, though looking a little wilted.


I held up the fruit to my wife triumphantly, passing it over so she could examine it. "Ok," she said slowly. "So…is this the catalyst? Like is this a real fruit? Because you need a catalyst for a racial trait, don't you?"


"Not for this one," I said with a shake of my head. "Racial traits use catalysts to trigger changes in Skills through the connection to the body, changing the soul by the transitive property. It's kind of wonky, because it works the OPPOSITE of the way the traits function in the first place, but it's only a spark and it uses qualities and aspects of the soul to initiate the process. We're skipping that for you, because I'm connected DIRECTLY to your soul. I can make changes to the bond directly through our connection."


She frowned, looking concerned. "Does that mean the bond will go away? Will we lose it when it changes?"


"Nah, it'll just be altered," I pulled her in for a hug. "I'm going to use Sammael to anchor my end, so it'll just turn into something new. Still a bond, but it'll become a completely unique Skill that I'll have, while your side of it will turn into your racial trait. It's the only way I could think of to make this work without waiting until your rank up and integrating it into your main ability."


Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "Alright, I get you. So…how do we do this? Do I need a book or something?"


I tossed the fruit at her, and she caught it clumsily, raising an eyebrow at me. "Nope. It's a fruit. Just eat it. Make sure you're ready though, it's going to be a doozy, so don't just bite-" sadly, I hadn't talked fast enough. Following my instruction to just eat the fruit, my wife had reflexively bitten into it, her eyes widening as she heard the rest of my sentence, one turning pitch black and one flashing bright green, then they rolled up in her head.


Cursing, I opened my eyes in the real world and darted forward, catching her, then grimaced. "Ok, that was on me. I probably shouldn't have paused for effect." Her only response was a violent twitch. "Right, let's get you on the couch."

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The changes of the fruit started to appear before Callie woke up. Specifically, my Master Paired Duelling skill changed to become a completely new skill. Master Angelic Bond. It was a Skill I'd never heard of before, nor had anyone else with us. This was especially notable because Serah and Holly came from an entire faction of angels, and they would be exactly the kind of people to know about a Skill like that.

I held Callie through the changes, keeping her from hurting herself. I had to shove my hand into her mouth at one point to stop her from biting off her own tongue, and I ended up triggering Zagan to heal from the damage, because she dug in HARD.

Finally, the twitching stopped, and Callie sat up so fast there was a blur. She blinked her eyes, head snapping around as if she was looking for something, but she didn't seem to be tracking any specific object.

Her eyes were…odd. Seriously odd. They were still blue, and at the edges the color had lightened to a nearly icy white, but the further in the iris went the darker the blue became. Her pupil was no longer delineated like a normal pupil, not even blown up. The blue faded into black in the center, giving her eyes the impression of being deep sea abysses that you could fall into.

From her back, black and blue wings erupted. Similar to the eyes, they started dark at the spine, with the feathers becoming brighter and brighter blue until they turned white at the very tips. Only the end feather around the edges had a bit of white, so the majority of her wings were darkly colored, but it looked gorgeous.

I reached out to stroke her wings, and she giggled, squirming around and pulling them away, hiding them behind her back. "Hey quit that!" She laughed, her face clearing and the confusion retreating as her mind finished processing.

I grinned at her. "What's with all the blue?" I asked her with a laugh. "I was expecting some green and black, like on the fruit."

She shrugged, then held up a hand. On her palm, a cerulean fire blazed to life, white at the edges and darkening to black and the center, shot through with deep blue as it worked its way in. "I guess the combination of the Enshrining Darkness and Leviathan made…this? I think it's altered itself to prepare for the Abyss." She stared down into the flame. "It feels so…sacred."

"What's your new Skill called?" I asked eagerly. She was the first person I'd heard of to get a racial trait outside of her main Skill slot. I was sure the name would be something unique, and I was curious what the ability ended up DOING.

She frowned, her eyes flicking up to stare into space. " Master Trait: Heretic Angel," she said after a minute. "I can feel our connection through it. Though the bond feels different. More…central. What changed for you?"

I told her about my new Skill, and then checked into something I hadn't seen at all yet. Namely, the changes that had occurred to Sammael. I trigger the form, wondering what would happen when I did. My wings unfolded, and my eyes flew open wide as a pulse of power rolled through me, and then out, and then back. My body locked up as energy seemed to cycle out of me and into Callie and then back.

At first she had way more of it, then I did, and it gradually crested and troughed until finally equalizing. I exhaled deeply, opening my eyes to meet my wife's. Which were glowing. Sort of. There was a sort of dark light emanating from the depths of her abyssal pupils.

I felt stronger. Like, notably. The amplification from Sammael had increased. My base stats had been amplified originally, but now that enhancement had grown substantially. By almost a full fold actually. If before, the increase had been a factor of one, now it was two. Callie was staring at me, eyes wide.

"Your eyes went black just now," she told me worriedly. "Like all the way through. It's like looking into a bottomless pit."

Grinning, I cracked my neck. "I'm sure. But we can worry about all that nonsense later. For now, I'm going to teach you the best part about being an angel." I held out my hand to her. "Want to go flying?"

We were supposed to stay within this area, but that was in terms of horizontal movement. Pretty much nothing I'd met here could fly. Granted, we couldn't go too high, because of the slowly dropping void corruption, but then again, Callie's new fire was custom made to resist that stuff, so it probably didn't matter. I focused on my other hand, concentrating, and a small blue black flame appeared.

Sure enough. I could use her ability through the bond. Her heretic flame was different than my Leviathan's fire. It was more geared toward soul defense than purification. Which was odd, given the sources, but intent and story mattered more than solid facts for techniques and forms.

Sure enough, she was thrilled. She grabbed my hand, then dragged me to the windowed wall of the tower. Reaching down, she popped open the glass, then pushed it open and hopped up on the ledge. Letting go, she turned to beam at me, spread her arms, and then fell backwards out the window.

I yelped and dove forward, but I was blown back by a burst of air as a blurring form exploded past the window with a whump of flapping wings.

Apparently the racial trait made her much more naturally agile with her wings than I had been. I wouldn't have been able to do that right off the bat. I could now though, I grinned, got a running start, and then leapt out the window, my wings catching me as I glided forward, swinging into a wide circle that took me fully around the tower.

I could see Callie above me, wings spread, grinning from ear to ear as she sped upward. I laughed. She was already too high to reach easily. While flight was possible after D-rank, the necessary level of power to DO so depended on the rank of the world you were in. This place was C-rank, albeit with a peculiar design. It would have required a B-ranker to fly here. At least, without wings.

Callie shot up and into the dark clouds above. As she rose, a wave of blue black fire cloaked her, and I tensed slightly, watching to be sure she would be ok.

Sure enough, when she hit the rain cloud, the abyssal energy not only didn't harm her, it actually got sucked into the heretic fire and consumed. I felt a thrum of energy through the bond as her new ability literally consumed the void energy and cannibalized it into raw strength.

Callie's new trait was designed to perfectly incorporate the Abyssal Path once she hit C-rank, and it seemed that it was already hard at work preparing. The void energy was being refined and added to the Enshrining Darkness at the core of her power, providing a foundation for the Abyssal Path once she integrated it. I literally couldn't have designed it better myself.

The Wisdom of Solomon was terrifying in some ways. The Ten Demons Tree could internalize my intentions and adapt to them, which meant it could literally alter the end product to suit my desires without me even consciously considering them.

I flapped my wings twice, and a strong updraft exploded out beneath me, shooting me up into the clouds after Callie. I was already resistant to the mental effects of the void mist, but I tapped into the heretic fire just in case, and sure enough, I felt it consuming the energy, transferring it through me into Callie.

With my higher Might, I caught up to my wife in seconds, tackling her into a cloud, and we laughed and rolled in the air, wrestling back and forth as we darted around inside the cloud of steam let off by the boiling water as it hit our cloaks of blue flame.

Below us, I could make out a few figures in the city, on higher rooves and buildings, but I didn't think they could actually see us up here. The void around us seemed to isolate the area. I could sense and interact with it through Callie, her Abyssal Priestess Path allowing her to piece the obfuscation, but unless I'd been spamming Dantalion, I was pretty sure I'd be blind as a bat up here.

Which meant we were free to actually enjoy ourselves. I kept an ear out (mentally speaking) for my Danger Sense, but surprisingly, there wasn't any up here. Without the clouds being able to actually influence us, there was zero danger in the skies of the Screeching Shoals.

"Why didn't you tell me this was so much fun!" Callie shouted over the roar of the rain. "I LOVE flying!"

I just laughed. "You couldn't do it before, it just seemed mean!" I called back. "We should probably head back in though! This place isn't exactly ideal. A quick flight is fine, but we should get back under cover." I grinned at her. "Race you down, bye!" I'd been slowly letting myself dip as we'd been talking, and I was already about twenty feet lower than her, With a whoop of triumph, I let myself drop like a rock, tucking my wings in, then once I was coming down at the right speed I opened my wings slightly, adjusting my trajectory.

"Hey!" She called indignantly behind me. The sound was lost in the tumult, but I got the gist through the bond. I plummeted through the air towards the tower, air whipping past me, and pulled up just enough to send myself streaking through the open window we'd left through. I tried to pull up, but only managed to upend myself when my wings caught, and I pushed on State of Grace to ease the fall as I rolled to absorb the impact.

I managed to come up to my feet in time, barely, but Callie came in too hot behind me and hit me head on, knocking me sprawling as we both went flailing in a tangle of arms and legs. We came to a stop against a wall with a light thump, managing to avoid doing any real damage to anything but ourselves.

"I hit the wall first," she said proudly. "I win."

"What?" I gaped at her. "I was the first through the window, I OBVIOUSLY won. How is hitting the wall first a victory?"

She smirked down at me as she propped her elbow up on my chest. "Next time you should state the winning conditions instead of trying to cheat and win with a cheap shot. This was definitely my win, and I demand satisfaction in the form of delicious food."

I chuckled, rolling over and tossing her bodily onto the couch, eliciting a cute shriek as she tried to get her wings out to catch her, unable to manage in such a short distance. "Delicious food? Unthinkable. I would never cook for you. What behavior in our past has given you the impression that I am willing to debase myself with manual labor vis a vis the preparation of food?"

She pouted at me, adjusting her hair, which I could see now had blue highlights in the black. "Now you're DEFINITELY cooking."

Laughing, I rolled to my feet. "Yes dear," I told her blandly. "What exactly am I going to be making for dinner?" I brushed myself off, glad I wasn't wearing my armor right now, having changed into comfy clothes for the work.

"Seriously? You can't guess?" She just stared at me like I was the biggest idiot in the world, but I had no clue what she was trying to say. Finally she groaned and gestured behind her back. "Wings. Obviously." It was my turn to groan, but I couldn't hold back a laugh as I headed for the en suite kitchen. Of course.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Meeting up with the others the next day was pretty amusing. I woke up, stockpiled my scrolls, and then headed down to see the reactions to my wife's new trait. Most of them were pretty blown away by Callie's changes. Her gorgeous blue black wings and new eyes highlighted her costume pretty well, though we'd had to send her coat to be adjusted for her wings.


Unlike Sammael, Callie couldn't turn her trait OFF, which meant that she had wings all the time. Adjusting her costume to suit that was a pain, but luckily the tower had tailors on standby, and it had been a long time since she'd had her outfit replaced anyway.


Her new outfit, picked with input from Bethy, was a backless black ball gown with blue accents. Over top of that, she wore a huge velvet cloak in black and blue with a large hood that hung down in the front, giving her a mysterious look. It also covered her wings easily without looking too obvious, and allowed her to pass unnoticed in her new form.


Bethy, of course, had been excited to help, though it had taken her a bit to decide what to do, since, in her words: "You look different, did you do something with your hair?"


Once we had everything ready, we all met up to discuss next moves, and everyone was VERY impressed. "You look so cute together!" My sister gushed excitedly. "The armor and the ball gown, it's like you're going to a masquerade ball! Oh my gods, your babies will have little WINGS!"


I flinched. "Revenant, Chelsea can you NOT?" I subconsciously stepped behind my wife. "We haven't even had our honeymoon yet!"


Serah and Holly, meanwhile, had stepped forward and were cooing over Callie's feathers. "This is so gorgeous," Holly marveled. "The blue and white and black just blend together so well. I'm SO jealous."


Blank faced as ever, Serah nodded along. "You must be…flying."


"Boo!" Ray said derisively, giving her a thumbs down. "That wasn't even clever. You're better than that."


I rolled my eyes at their antics. "Argaunt, report." I told the archer, determined to get this topic away from wings before my sister actually started getting ideas. "You spoke with a few of the C-rankers, how did it go?"


He grimaced. "It went…about as well as expected. Darwen was on board, but Selvara requires a bit more convincing. She initially wanted to fight Bethany, but since she's a D-ranker, that was off the table. She settled on choosing a D-ranked champion to undertake the challenge for her. Specifically, she's sending Dastan."


Dayna grimaced. "That's…not ideal. Dastan is extremely dangerous. Possibly the worst match up for Lady Bethy."


"I assume he has a racial trait?" I asked tiredly. "Because otherwise who the hell would be stupid enough to challenge Bethy. Present company excluded." I ignored the snickers from the surrounding parties.


Dayna nodded. "He's a unique variant of werewolf," she nodded. "Verdyn has a special connection with wild animals, especially deadly hunters. Dastan is one of his favorites. He managed to evolve one of Verdyn's signature Skills to the point where he merged it with his racial trait and altered its nature."


"She wants Bethy to fight this person?" I asked with a groan. "What's the point? We have another fifteen of these C-rankers to convince, not to mention thirty plus at this conclave. We can't be accepting one on one challenges from all of them, we'll be here for months."


"Which she knows," he admitted sourly. "That's why she set the challenge for the beginning of the conclave. She finagled an invitation based on possible cooperation, as did the others. She got in touch with them first and managed to form a bloc. She's using the challenge as a litmus test, and has convinced the others to fall in line with her, though gods only know how."


I glanced at Bethy. "So, you down to beat the shit out of a werewolf in front of a crowd of strangers?" She lit up, opening her mouth, and I immediately cut her off. "And no, you cannot KEEP him. We have enough strays, no offense Dayna."


The elf shrugged. "I do not take offense. I would not consider this battle a foregone conclusion, however. Dastan is dangerous. The interaction between divine power and racial traits can be unpredictable, as I'm sure you know."


That…was a good point. Sammael, and to an extent Callie's Heretic Angel trait, were both examples of the kind of crazy you could get mixing racial traits with divine power. Something about god energy was…different. I suspected it had to do with mythology, but all the divine powers I'd seen had a special sort of authority in their own categories.


Still, Bethy's power had its own cachet. Not just the vampirism, but the combination. Speaking of which, I turned to Callie, cocking my head, and she nodded. "I want to try working with Bethy until the conclave. My heretical fire is specifically geared toward soul defense. If I team up with Shane and Archie, I could probably seriously chip away at the negative effects of her tapping into her power."


Our friend brightened. "You think so? I mean, we've done some work on it but I don't know. I mean I have my bracelets but I don't think they're doing much anymore. I got them at E-rank. The purification you did a while ago has been helping a lot, but I don't know if it'll last. If you think this could help I'd love to try."


She sounded nervous. I frowned. I hadn't realized the purification was wearing off. If I'd known she was worried about this I'd have done another pass with Genesis Burst. "Of course we can help," I told her firmly. "I bet Callie will be able to do even better than I can with her new powers. Genesis Burst is more about healing souls than protecting them."


That was part of the issue with Bethy's bloodline. Any ground we gained would slowly be eroded. The bloodlust was corrosive. It didn't corrode FAST, but considering how few things could get rid of it at all, it was a problem.


Souls were tricky. Lots of abilities couldn't affect them at all, and the ones that could tended to be INCREDIBLY dangerous. Killian's soul stitching, my dad's contracts, Zeke's masks. Souls were almost an entirely separate power system from normal Ascendant elements, albeit one with a decent amount of overlap. That was why Paths became so key later in the Ascension process. They created a way to directly influence the soul besides altering a main Skill.


Bethy's specific confluence of traits affected her soul because it was her racial trait, and therefore her main Skill, but I was pretty sure hers was damaged in some way. The more I learned about racial traits, the more certain I was that mixing the two that she had been born with had caused unintended side effects like the ones I'd avoided by refusing to create Callie's trait from scratch.


Sadly, I still didn't know enough about the construction and effects of racial traits to actually FIX the damned thing. And since it was a soul issue just wishing it fixed wouldn't work. Bethy's trait was really powerful, so from a Skill standpoint it was pretty much perfect. The side effects were more of a human error sort of thing.


Callie reached across the table, taking my hand. She could feel how frustrated I was. Though it might not be my main objective, fixing Bethy was definitely an important goal to me. Part of my aim in learning more about traits was not just to help my wife, but to help my friend. Seeing how much she hated the pain she caused and how heartbreaking her path to get here had been only filled me with determination to help make her life better.


But the more I learned, the more aware I became of just how far I had to go. Bethy's trait was one Morgan Lark had created himself. I was almost positive it wasn't the original Vampire trait, and even if it was, the mythology of him being the ultimate predator had seriously altered the equation.


We continued our conversation, ironing out details, and scheduled the battle for five days later, at the beginning of the conclave. We said our goodbyes and Callie and I headed back upstairs. I was in a bad mood from not being able to do anything for Bethy. I just wanted to be able to help my friend.


Speaking of which though, I did have a friend I could help. I turned to my wife excitedly. "By the way, I was checking my stats, and based on my initial calculations, I believe that I've officially reached the point where I can finally help Jessie. It's been so long, and she's been so patient, but if I'm not wrong, I can now officially grant a wish to resurrect a G-ranker."


Alan, Jessie's brother, had been murdered by a serial killer back around the time we first met. Jessie had been devastated, and had been inconsolable for quite a while afterward. Benny, Callie, and I had taken her in and sort of adopted her (and thank the gods we had, we'd have been dead fifty times over without her) and I had eventually proposed using a wish to bring him back.


I'd been unable to actually DO that, but even the hope of seeing him again had been enough to give her something to focus on.


Over the years, I'd done plenty of research on the requirements. There were various esoteric things needed, even with a wish. Or rather, the cost scaled based on several factors. Rank, obviously, but also the amount of time the person had been dead, the condition of the body, and method of death.


Stricture, the serial killer in question, had been relatively weak, so he hadn't been able to use and soul damaging powers that would impede the resurrection. We had Alan's body from our last trip to Callus when Jessie had quietly picked it up and moved it to her space ring, and it had been only a year or two since his death. Combined with his low rank, conditions were pretty close to optimal to bring him back.


My wife squeezed my hand again, this time in excitement. "What? You can? That's amazing! I can't wait to see Alan again, I always liked him."


I blinked. "Right, I forgot you worked together. I didn't know him, but I'm excited for Jessie. She's been waiting so long for this. He's going to have a lot to get used to, things have really changed." Jessie was a D-ranker dating another D-ranker, and she and her girlfriend were both no longer human.


Racial traits weren't common on Callus, with most of them being fae, and I vaguely remembered some tension from some of the guild members I'd worked with.


Callie waved me off. "Nah, Alan was cool. I doubt he'll care about the dryad thing. He's going to be pretty bummed about how strong she is though. He was considered quite a genius, hitting G-rank so young." We glanced at each other and then burst out laughing. Poor guy.


Still, it was a wonderful thought. I'd been waiting so long to help Jessie, and now it was finally about to happen. It was such a long standing goal I'd almost started taking for granted it would ever happen. Resurrection was expensive and difficult, and even for someone as weak as Alan, I had almost despaired of ever managing it.


This seemed like a hopeful sign. I was finally going to be able to put one of my first promises to rest. To use my power in a way I'd intended to do for a very long time. And doing it before going into the succession war felt…right. Like a good omen. Things were finally starting to come together.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Five days went by in a blur. Forty more scrolls put me at ninety two, just one day short of a hundred (not counting the three emergency scrolls my friends kept on hand), and I wasn't any less nervous because of the excess. Bethy had been working with Callie and I the whole time, and we'd mostly come up with a stable method of training we were PRETTY sure would help.

Which was what we were doing now. Stacking our influence as we tried to prepare for the conclave. It was starting in about a two and a half hours (for us, there were people there already, but we weren't needed until the majority got there) and we wanted her to be in the best possible condition for this fight. I had no clue what this werewolf might have up his sleeves, and I wasn't worried about her losing, but if she lost control and started eating people the C-rankers would have to stop her, and that might be dangerous, assuming she didn't just escape.

"Alright, are you sure you're good for the next round?" I asked her worriedly. Bethy looked…bad. Hair matted, face soaked with sweat, and her ever present sparkle was completely missing. She looked grim and determined, which was a side I knew she HAD, but didn't make it less unsettling to see.

Callie seemed to feel the same. "I think that's enough Bethy," she assured her. "We've been chipping away at your bloodlust for almost a week now. It's just one fight."

Bethy shook her head. "Again," she croaked hoarsely. "We don't know what he can do. It's too dangerous to take chances." Her face looked gaunt and sallow. The process we'd been using definitely wasn't healthy. We'd been burning her bloodline away bits at a time and then using the heretic flame to reinforce the stripped spots. Zagan helped her regenerate, but there was some loss, and we'd done more than a few rounds.

The thing was, it seemed to be working. It wasn't really protecting the areas of stripped bloodline so much as being consumed, but Bethy's bloodline seemed to actively devour the heretic flame. It was integrating little bits of it into the sections that were restored.

What that actually MEANT I had no idea. I knew that you could alter racial traits, hell the werewolf we were preparing Bethy to fight had done it. It wasn't EASY exactly, but while not necessarily god level, Callie and I had tricks other people our level didn't come close to.

Taking a deep breath, I held my hands out. Genesis Burst. I poured the power into her, and Bethy threw back her head and screamed. Grimacing, Callie put her hands on our friend's shoulders and surged blue black heretic fire into her. Archie trilled, spreading his wings and exploding into a Life Nova that fueled all three of us.

The energy synergized well with Zagan, and it helped me keep up my output. There was an element of Zagan in the heretic flame too, though it changed the composition a bit. I could swear her flames looked a bit more greenish under Archie's influence.

After ten more minutes (which seemed like hours) we stopped, staggering away to sit down, taking deep breaths.

"Do you think we cut it a bit close?" I panted. "We only have a few hours to rest before we have to be there."

My sister, looking worried, stepped forward to help Bethy up. She and Gabe were standing by with Dayna. I could see on their faces that they wished they could feed her to help her recover, but if she bit anyone who wasn't a thrall it would cause agonizing pain as the stats were ripped from the body.

"It should be fine," she assured me. "Bethy recovers incredibly quickly as long as she has someone to feed on. Dayna is strong, and she should be in fighting shape within the hour." She glanced at the vampire with concern. "Is this going to be a regular thing? I mean, you can actually FIX her by doing this, right?"

I shrugged. "I mean…a bit. It's working a little better than the wishes. At this rate we could modify her trait within a few months, provided it doesn't start to adapt to the changes. At the moment it's sucking up the heretic flame like a sponge, but the actual changes are VERY minimal. If I had to guess Lark's mythology is infused into her through the Domain."

Which was frustrating, but I couldn't do anything about it. I still didn't know exactly where Domains fit into the whole soul body dynamic when it came to racial traits. I knew that animals didn't have them, but I wasn't sure how they impacted the way the Path connected body and soul. A lot of the way racial traits worked was counterintuitive, and seemed to have been made to compensate for the restrictions humans had that beasts didn't.

Of course, while it might seem at first glance that beasts had it easier than people, that was hardly the case. The percentage of humans competing for renown was infinitesimal, and it got smaller the higher up you went. With beasts, every single animal was competition for the renown of your species.

Killing other beasts and consuming them helped spread your legend, but beyond that, based on the way that stats were integrated into the bodies of animals, I was pretty sure they might be able to get stronger by eating other beasts. Which meant you had to worry about someone eating you for your renown at any time.

The elixir cap people had was based on soul strength, and since beasts had their soul and body (or at least stats) combined from day one, I doubted it was there. Of course, humans had their own advantages. Communication and systems of information dispersal, for one. I wondered if that had anything to do with why some beasts took human form.

I was distracting myself again. I focused on Bethy. "I'm going to keep trying. Don't misunderstand. I just don't want you guys thinking this is a tomorrow fix. It'll be months if not years before Bethy will see any changes to her trait, if she does at all."
The exhausted vampire shot me a heartbreakingly bright smile. "It's ok, Shane. I know how hard you're working to help me. It means a lot. This is why we're besties! Come here and give me a hug!" She threw her arms out, stepping forward to hug me, and I dodged back in horror, trying to avoid her sweaty embrace.

"Gross, Bethy you're covered in grime! Don't get my armor all sweaty!" Summoning some energy from deep within herself, she darted after me, cackling like a madwoman. I saw my wife snickering behind her hand and dove over her shoulder, taking refuge behind her much smaller form.

She gasped. "TRAITOR!" Then she wheeled on Bethy. "Bethany Lark, if you get my new costume all sweaty two hours before a big event, you will PAY. I'll make you sit with me and sort through Celine's economic impact reports. And I'll QUIZ you."
The maniacal vampire froze, reeling back in horror. "What?" She wailed. "But that's BORING! Celine's writing is SO flowery. It's like reading math based poetry. Anything but that!"

I wasn't aware we even GOT economic impact statements from Celine. I shot my wife a pulse of gratitude through the bond, and she just rolled her eyes. Bethy, pouting but subdued, turned and strode out of the room, head held high. Her adoring fans smirked and waved goodbye as they followed her out.

"I can't believe that worked," I marveled at my wife. "You made BETHY behave."

She blew on her nails, buffing them against her cloak. "What can I say? She knows who's really in charge in this family."

"My grandmother," I said dryly. Now it was Callie's turn to pout, but it quickly turned into a squeal of surprise as I tossed her over my shoulder. "Now let's go get cleaned up. We have to look presentable for this conclave."
We headed back to our rooms, each taking a shower (an hour a piece) and then spent the last thirty minutes relaxing together before meeting up with everyone else.

Carmichael was waiting for us in the hallway outside our rooms. "Alright, are you all ready?" He asked worriedly. "I have to admit, I'm pretty worried about this fight. I get the feeling it won't be as easy as you all seem to think."

"You might be right," I admitted. Everyone turned to stare at me in surprise. "What? I've been trying to cut back on my instinctive arrogance. Bethy is scary, but she's not operating unrestricted. Whoever this guy is has the backing of a deity. Admittedly, the whole werewolf vs. vampire thing is actually pretty cool, but there are a lot of species of werewolf, and I've seen a few scary ones. This will be a tough fight, even for Bethy. That's why we put so much effort into purifying and reinforcing her bloodline. The resistance to the bloodlust will let her tap into her power more deeply."

Her fight with me had stretched her limits, but there had been some purification after, while it had mostly faded, combined with all our work this last week it should be enough to let her put in some serious effort. Her fight with Dayna had been WAY beyond what she'd done against me. It showed how much stronger she could be when she wasn't holding back.

Dayne herself nodded. "I've fought you both. I believe you to be stronger, but don't underestimate Dastan. The Hound of Verdyn is a dangerous foe. Don't take this battle lightly. Lady Bethy needs to be in top form. No holding back."

We all glanced at our excitable vampire friend, and she just stared back innocently. "What? I always take things seriously. Except when I don't. That happens sometimes. But this doesn't seem like one of those times. I bet I'll be completely focused."

"Why are you WAGERING on that like it's out of your control?" snapped my sister. "Just don't mess around!"
Bethy nodded solemnly. "For sure. I'll definitely probably do that. I think."

"Alright," I said with a laugh. "Bethy stop taunting my sister, Chelsea you know better than to expect a straight answer about something like that from her. Bethy comes through when it matters, we have to trust her."

Chelsea had been winding up to argue, but at the last sentence, she froze. She glanced at Bethy, bit her lip, and then nodded. Gabe put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a warm smile. "Don't worry. I'll be right there with you. If anything goes wrong, we can step in instantly. No D-ranker in the world stands a chance against all three of us. And that's only if we beat Abel and Shane there."

"Which you definitely won't," Abel said conversationally. "It's not even on the table. I would never miss the chance to save her life. Imagine it, every time she tries to pretend she's forgotten my name, I can just be like 'Well I bet you remembered it when I was saving your life'."

Bethy recoiled. "What? That's not…that's never going to happen. Stop it." She glared at him. "I don't need your help Alice, I'm going to totally win this and you're going to be like 'Oh my gods, Bethy is so cool, I don't even care if she can't remember my dumb name, she's the best in the world'. That's you. That's what you'll sound like."

I shared a smirk with my sister as we watched Bethy officially shift from whimsical to focused. Apparently the idea of owing Abel her life was literally a fate worse than death. As we walked towards the conclave, Abel continued needling her, earning waspish replies from the vampire, and the rest of us just grinned and followed behind. Sometimes a little healthy rivalry was the best motivation.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The conclave took place in the bones of the tower. It was different than the other towers we'd been to. This was missing Veldran's cute little complex, underneath this tower was something different. Emptiness. Miles and miles of it.


We came down a small staircase into a colossal chamber. The roof was maybe three hundred feet above us, but we couldn't see any of the walls, just darkness that seemed to stretch on for eternity. The roof was being held up by huge stone pillars, grey rock that matched the floors, equidistantly spaced, with all the light seemingly gathered in a single shaft in the center (I was pretty sure) of the room.


After descending the stairs, we moved forward into the shaft of light. Around us, dozens of figures sat obscured by oddly thick shadows. With our eyes, Perception being what it was D-rankers, they should have been entirely visible, but instead we just saw a bunch of vague shapes outside the light circle.


In the center of the light circle were two people. One was a tall, ghostly pale woman with pointed elfin ears and silver hair and eyes. Not silver as in grey. Silver as in silver. Like the metal. Her eyes resembled spheres of metal, with her hair looking like nothing so much as tinsel. It was shaved on one side of her head, and on the other, it had been twisted into a long braid with complicated iron jewelry.


Beside her stood an unassuming man, short and brown haired, with a plain face and a harmless looking smile. Everything about him screamed mild mannered…except the eyes. His eyes were wolf yellow, and they shone with a barely repressed madness. It was chilling, because he was smiling guilelessly if you only looked at his lower face, but the second you met those blazing chips of citrine, it was like you were drowning in a sea of animal rage. He caught sight of us, and his harmless mask cracked, his lips peeling back into a too wide smile, fully exposing his incisors in a habit that seemed like it was developed to show off fangs he didn't have right now.


"Oh!' he said cheerfully. "New friends! So lovely of you to join us. Look, Vara, our guests have arrived!"


The silver haired elf rolled her eyes. "We've been over this Dastan. Don't play with your food. It's gauche." Her eyes scanned over our group, which had emerged into the light shaft directly as a while. Her silver orbs locked on Dayna. "Hello, little sister. You dare to show your face here? I knew you were shameless, but I assumed you were considerate enough to keep your humiliation out of my eyeline."


Dayne shrugged. "That's the difference between you and I, Selvara. I don't feel humiliated by a well deserved loss. You always did care too much what people thought."


"What about ME, Dayna?" hissed the other elf. "Do you care what I think?"


"The only person who has to live my life is me," our elfin archer said placidly. "The day that ceases to be the case is the day I answer to you about what I choose to do with it."


I glared at Dayna. "Can you NOT openly antagonize the enemy before the fight?" I groaned in exasperation. "You can stick up for your life choices when this is over and she works for me, we'll be in a much better position. The polite way to handle this situation is to pretend this isn't a formality and treat her like a serious opponent until Bethy actually wins."


My wife smacked her palm into her forehead with a sigh. "Shane, honey, why do you talk?"


I shrugged. "What? It's true. Dayne can shit talk later. It'll be way more satisfying once Bethy demolishes her champion."


Dastan, who apparently didn't enjoy being spoken about like he wasn't there, turned and snarled at me. I glanced at him, annoyed, and then reached into myself and triggered two of my forms. Sammael and Bael. When Bael activated though, I tweaked it. The form usually made me invisible, made it impossible to notice me. But this time, I inverted the effect. I made it so people could ONLY notice me. I dragged all the attention in the room onto myself, the entire thing amplified by now even stronger Sammael form.


"Bad dog," I rumbled, tapping into my Mephistopheles voice. "Heel."


Dom, who had been on the other end of that particular insult before, snickered as the werewolf flinched, the combination of overwhelming power and unbreakable focus causing a shock that made him step back in surprise.


Selvara reached up and slapped her champion upside the head. "Enough," she snapped waspishly. "You're making a fool of us both. Curb your snarling and save your animosity for the match. Submit your champion. The terms have been agreed on, and there is nothing more to be said. We are beyond the time of speech. The only way forward is action."


"Action is always the only way forward," Bethy pointed out helpfully. "Moving is an action by default. If you're not taking any actions you're just standing around."


I choked back a laugh as the elf girl glared at my friend, who summarily ignored her, skipping to the middle of the light circle. "Alright, you want to go first? If I attack you at the beginning the match won't last very long. You can have the first move."


Dastan whirled, glaring into her eyes maliciously. Throwing back his head, he let loose a primal scream. His hands hooked into claws, then he reached up, grabbed his face, and started tearing. He ripped his own skin off his body like he was unwrapping a christmas present under compression. The skin gave way and a massive lupine humanoid just…sprang free like an unfolding pop tent.


By the time he finished, he wasn't short anymore. He was ten feet tall, massive slavering jaws lolling open in an expression I recognized as the grin from earlier.


Bethy returned it, her eyes burning deep crimson as her delicate fangs gleamed in the light of shining down on her. With a roar, Dastan hurls himself forwards like a charging elephant, jaws snapping and claws carving into the air. Literally INTO the air, as they tear furrows in the space itself. The descending claws rake over Bethy, and we all tense…but nothing happens.


As the claws land on my friend, her body DISSOLVES. Not into bats. Into fucking MIST. It rolls over the razor sharp talons of the werewolf, drifting to the ground gently, and the wolf goes ballistic. Snapping, snarling, tearing. He bites and rips at the mist. The fucking SPACE is being torn with every attack, but it still can't find purchase, the mist dispersing around every blow, pooling on the ground.


After a minute, the werewolf is standing in a circle of mist, and Bethy's form gracefully rises from the cloud of fog behind him, nails extended and gleaming wickedly red. With a casual ruthlessness belied by her pleasant expression, Bethy's hands blurred.


Every nail nicked a tendon or a ligament, muscles detaching from bones, joints severed. She basically took him apart at the seams, dismantling the werewolf like he was a reverse jigsaw puzzle. As she continued though, her face began to wrinkle with frustration. Her cuts were healing as soon as she made them, and while she was too fast for him to react properly, nothing was sticking.


Finally, as she was cutting into his torso, the werewolf roared and threw himself on her, seemingly so mad with rage that he'd forgotten how he ended up in this situation.


Once again, Bethy dissolved into mist. It was a really scary ability. The bats had been bad, but this was worse. Bats could die. You couldn't kill mist. I could only assume this form took a LOT of power, and was probably really rough on her bloodlust. But with our preparations, Bethy was running at a hundred (or at least at way more than she had been).


As she rose from the mist this time, she didn't claw or slash. She waited until he was off balance, then reached up and grabbed the ruff at the base of his skull. Planting a heeled stiletto in a spot on his lower back, she yanked on his head, and the unconsciously arched his spine to prevent her from impaling his spine. When he was arched up onto his toes, fully pent over backwards, Bethy jerked her head back and STRUCK like a cobra.


His body seized up, stiffening into a bow of agony as strangled screams began to grind themselves out of his throat. Bethy just clamped down, taking pull after pull, and I could SEE him getting weaker, getting less vital.


When he shifted back to human form, she dropped him, and the now emaciated form of Dastan crumpled to the ground. She's drained his regeneration. Because of its connection to blood, things like life force and regeneration were within Bethy's domain in terms of consumption. It was like how Lark could eat "plasma" because he decided it made sense.


Bethy hadn't eaten all of his Vitality, or probably even much of it, but she'd sucked his life force mostly dry. Selvara glared at us, staring down at the incredibly anticlimactic end to her ace in the hole, then she rolled her eyes with a huff. "Alright, FINE. You're not incompetent. You've convinced me. Now can one of you please repair my minion? I require him for the rest of my stay."


Chuckling, I gestured for Archie to do a flyover. I didn't want to get close to a dangerous werewolf. My phoenix friend trilled, circling above the man, and trails of green flame rolled down from his tail, repairing the emaciated body of the werewolf with surprising speed.


When he was done, he glided over to land on my outstretched arm. Bethy skipped back over, beaming at my sister. "See, I told you it wasn't a problem." She surreptitiously licked her lips, cleaning off a bit of blood. I laughed to myself. We shouldn't have doubted her. There was a difference between overconfidence and pattern recognition. Bethy won. It was in her DNA.


I remembered how easily Lark had defeated all those S-rankers. I knew he was the strongest, and maybe Bethy was the strongest too. But what we the second strongest like? I was pretty sure my grandfather's senior brother, the Moonlight Pope, was second in terms of raw power. How strong was he?


Shaking off the thought, I turned to focus on the others, who all looked poleaxed. "See, this is why we don't ask Bethy to take things seriously," I scolded Abel. "Now everyone here is going to be terrified for the rest of the conclave."


Because she had NOT been fucking around. She'd tried to butcher him, and when that hadn't worked she ATE him. It had been the most decisive fight I'd ever seen.


He shrugged. "At least it didn't happen to one of us."


I rolled my eyes, and Mel glared at him. "This is why you aren't allowed to participate in diplomacy." She criticized.


"Oh no," he said dryly. "How will I ever survive?"


I rolled my eyes, then turned to see Selvara coming over. Someone else had emerged from the dark, and was escorting Dastan out of the light. He very carefully didn't look at anyone from our group. "So, what exactly am I expected to do here?" She demanded as she came to a stop in front of us. "Because I will not swear myself to you as Dayna did. It would be humiliating."


"Not asking for an oath," I assured her, withdrawing a scroll. "You know what this is? It only activates after I'm paid. You and your people will sign contracts in payment for these, and in return, you'll be able to leave safely." I looked around the circle. "Now why don't you get them all out here, and we can get started." As the shadowy forms emerged, I noticed there was way more than fifteen of them. Apparently Bethy's demonstration had convinced everyone. Our army was taking shape.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The next stage of the conclave was much less mysterious. We'd left behind the basement full of stone pillars and had retired to a large golden ballroom. The walls were white paneled with gold trim, and the floors were white marble inlaid with gold. Weirdly, despite being similar material to the city outside, this place looked much more refined.


Among the golden trim, the white paint and marble created a sense of restrained wealth and complex elegance, as opposed to the garish "we dumped gold on your town" opulence of the rest of Dawnrend.


The ballroom had been lavishly furnished too, with a huge round table draped in white silk laid out in the center, covered in bone china plates inlaid with gold traceries. Naturally, my friends and I picked a spot near someone we knew, specifically Carmichael, and took our seats. Callie sat next to me, then my sister, then her guards, then Bethy.


At the end of our line of people was Dom, who had started chatting with Dastan about…wolf stuff. He seemed thrilled to find a kindred spirit, and Dastan was slowly recovering from what Bethy had done to him, though he was notably avoiding looking at her and seemed to be unconsciously leaning away when she got closer. Meanwhile, Selvara was on Carmichael's other side, and Argaunt was on the other side of her. And we were discussing terms of cooperation.


We'd made the initial agreements, of course, terms of service for freedom. We'd ended up with an even fifty C-rank cultivators, even more than expected given that several of the godchildren hadn't agreed. After handing over all fifty scrolls, my mood had soured a bit. That was potential points down the drain, but Callie reminded me that the renown from leading a C-rank army to charge out of the dungeon and expose the Void Shallow was definitely going to be substantial.


Now we were just deciding how exactly that attack would go down. Carmine and Delilah, the Master of Martial Force and the Mistress of Soothing Whispers, were the most familiar with the defenses at the palace, where the exit was under lockdown, so they were leading the discussion.


"I'm just saying, we can hit them head on. Sure, they have us outnumbered a bit, but if we surprise attack them, we can take advantage of the lull at the beginning to kill as many as possible." Carmine, a huge red haired man with a booming voice, slammed his beer mug (which he'd brought with him, because the rest of us had champagne flutes) forcefully on the table, his heavy brows furrowed.


Delilah, a slim, pale woman with black hair that fell to her ankles, sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her mouth was covered with a black veil, and her eyes were a shocking blue. So pale it was almost white. But her formerly composed appearance was shredded by her companion as he waxed on about the tactical benefits of shock and awe.


"We don't HAVE the element of surprise," she told him flatly. "They're EXPECTING us. We would be walking right into a trap."


He waved that off as if it was a small detail. "They're expecting SOMETHING. No way they know about our full forces. We send a small group in, with the majority smuggled inside the little Vampire's domain. Then when they surround our stalking horse we all jump out and tear them apart."


"And I think it's too risky," she sighed. "The initial group would be highly exposed. And what happens if the girl gets killed. I'm guessing we don't all just pop out of her Domain?"


He snorted. "Bah, she's squirrely. Did you see her fight with the dog boy? It's worth a bit of risk for such a pronounced advantage. Anyway, I don't hear you coming up with any better ideas, eh?"


"You don't hear anything at all over your obnoxious braying," she said waspishly. "I think we should divide and conquer. Five teams of ten C-rankers will enter through each of a handful of prearranged passages we can have 'conveniently' abandoned. Once everyone is in, the whole palace will go into seizures. They'll be running all over the place trying to put out fires and won't be able to mount a stable defense. Our elite groups will punch right through, and can join up at several prearranged locations, growing in strength until we reassemble in front of the exit chamber."


I frowned at her. "Um…that sounds like a super risky plan." She'd been so wrapped up in her argument, she took a minute to notice who had spoken, then turned to me and raised an eyebrow. "Never split the party." I told her bluntly. "That's dungeon one oh one."


She groaned in frustration. "Perhaps, but concentrating our forces leaves us open to a battle of attrition. If we get bogged down with the defenders, reinforcements might arrive."


"What reinforcements?" I asked, suddenly concerned. "I was under the impression all the C-rankers they had on side were city lords. I know they've been calling them back, since several of you are city lords who came in with the crowds, but the ones we accounted for should be all of them, right?"


"C-rankers are a major issue," she admitted. "But not the only one. A sufficient number or quality of D-rank threats can be just as deadly. And there are MANY D-rankers in the Shoals, most of whom work for Skartaris. I mean, our own forces aren't insubstantial, but a leaky bucket won't hold water. We've been forced to be quite circumspect with our D-rank subordinates to prevent information from leaking too badly."


I grimaced. Yeah, I knew we'd have a D-rank force coming along for the ride, though they didn't need wishes to get free. Last count we had two hundred and fifty D-rankers scheduled to come with us. A great many of them were actually peak D-rank, with a possibility of breakthroughs when they emerged, which was great news for my succession war forces, but at the moment, trying to organize them would be nightmarish.


It also meant that the number of D-rankers with each group was only going to be twenty five, with a total of thirty five ascendants each if we went with her plan. I didn't love that. But I did see her point. We needed to break through as quick as possible. If anyone got jammed up the other groups could converge and help them out, and I had a stockpile of scrolls still I could pass out. I could get some nice points for the help, so two birds there.


Humming uncertainly, I paused to think. We were rushed here. If we had time I'd have loved to teach them some formations, it might have helped our push. But we only had a few days to break out, and the longer we waited the more likely they'd see us coming. Managing to unite everyone so quickly was probably outside Skartaris's expectations, but they would be expecting us SOON.


Callie had been trying to scout for us, and her Abyssal Path actually helped, allowing her passage through the shadows, but there were a lot of places in the palace that were mysteriously blocked off, presumably by the Abyssal Lords. Which was another problem. Chances were good those bastards were around. I was pretty sure they were confined to the void laden areas, but if we dragged our heels, a quick sortie might be on the table.


"Two teams," I said finally. "One hundred and fifty apiece. A hundred and twenty five D-rankers and twenty five C-rankers. It'll let us split attention without leaving ourselves too vulnerable." I glanced around the table, where the other C-rankers were silent. "Anyone have any issues with that plan? Speak now, because your contracts won't allow you to defect. We can still change the plan if anyone thinks it's not workable."


While they were all going to have to fall in line, that was only if they actually escaped. If they didn't leave, the contracts would be void (pun intended).


I didn't think anyone here WANTED to stay in this abyssal shithole after we bailed, but if the choices were that or certain death, they would obviously defect rather than get killed. The easiest way to deal with that was to accept input on team distribution and entry strategy.


That made me think of the other issue. Namely all the innocent people here. While I couldn't help them personally, I was loathe to leave them here to suffer. Ideally, once we were out, we could have my grandparents dispatch a huge group of D-rankers, or maybe even requisition an Imperial Legion. They could hold the line while we evacuated the civilians before the void shallow finished integrating enough for C-rankers to leave.


I just didn't know if the five factions had the manpower, with the war ongoing. As much as I hated to admit it, this place might not be a priority. I wondered if there was another way to help them. Maybe have my grandmother open more of those portals so people who were still below C-rank could get out.


I got so wrapped up in my thoughts I missed the suggestions, but the parallel I left in charge of my body answered for me, keeping me apprised of the situation. Piece of Mind might not be flashy, but it was easily my most useful Skill.


Finally, everyone agreed on the plan. We'd had to accept a whole bunch of personnel changes to make everyone happy, and the teams were extremely lopsided, with the majority of the stronger C-rankers focused on the OTHER group, with us having only Carmichael and Carmine. But honestly, I wasn't bothered. We had our own confidence. My D-rank forces were superior, and most of the D-rank godchildren weren't bound by contract so I was hesitant to trust them anyway.


Meanwhile, my wife had been overflowing with confidence in a way I had never seen before. She wouldn't tell me why, just that she was working on something good, but I trusted her to know what she was doing. I was interested to see what had her so pumped, given that this particular change in demeanor had come AFTER her racial trait. She'd figured out some sort of deadly use for her new abilities, I suspected, and I couldn't wait to see what they might be.


Finally, after HOURS of talking, things started to wind down. With the distribution decided, all that was left was the timing, and everyone agreed that sooner was better. With that in mind, we officially planned the assault for tomorrow. The extra day would mean an extra eight scrolls, which meant an even fifty, one for each of our C-rankers as an emergency measure.


I was ALSO looking forward to seeing if I could get more stats per scroll, given my recent rise in power. Seventy five should be on the table, and any lit bit helped. I had one of my friends make an in person wish to test it, though I didn't grant it obviously because I'd used all mine up for the day. Still it confirmed that yes, seventy five points were on the table, and I made a not to request specific stats from each C-ranker as I passed them out.


Once that ended, it was dinner time. We'd been sitting at the table with empty plates for hours, and everyone was famished. A series of empty cloaks emerged from the entrances to the ballroom, trays of food floating beside them, and distributed the food to all of us. I had prime rib and mashed potatoes, while everyone else picked at the variety of unusual local dishes (some of them fish based).


All in all, it was a pretty decent night, considering how it started. I didn't let it fool me. Tomorrow would be the final push into the palace, and none of us were remotely ready for it. Once we got through though, we'd be out among my family, and we'd all be safe. I was just hoping that there would be room aboard the Acheron for all these people. It was going to be a tight squeeze.