"You're still mad about that guy? Come on, we kicked his ass so many rounds ago, I'd almost forgotten his face." I asked Korbin, ripping my trim blade from the sole survivor of his combination of unending infernal cannon barrages and waves upon waves of his creepy ass fire priests. He'd brought them back around after we had to get creative and use his one and only disguise scroll. It sounded cool enough for him to be reasonably upset at having to use it, especially considering its rarity when I used an Identify on it before slapping the parchment on my face.
Scroll Of The Burning Guise (Rare) - Forged by the illusionary infernal energies born from a microcosm of the Ancient Devil, Beloris' very essence, this scroll binds the identity of a known target to its wearer. Once activated, it veils the user in a false identity, altering appearance, voice, scent, and ambient mana signature. The illusion is seamless, indistinguishable even under moderate detection spells. Scroll combusts upon removal/ending of the illusion.
Yeah…pretty fancy stuff to spend on a single round of a Quarterly Objective. Especially against a team that came equipped with a Paul, poor guy. Ever since then, Korbin's maintained a balanced and well funded defense system for our mini Elysium, while intentionally allowing Rogue-types to maneuver their way through his infernal gauntlet. Because, who is easier to take down in a 2 on 1 than someone whose entire class is based in low health, high deception moves. Pretty tough to sneak up on someone through the only routes you're allowed to take, like expecting lab rats to truly escape their mazes.
"No, it's totally fine." He replied plainly.
"Wait really?" I asked, dropping the silver-cloaked rogue's lifeless corpse from my hands.
"No, Tom. Of course I'm pissed. That guy was…IS the worst kind of apathetic, dangerously delusional shitstain around as far as I'm concerned." Korbin quickly replied, his face turning slightly red as he clearly held back the passion he wanted to respond with. The vitriol in his restrained tone was all too familiar, an indication it was very much still too soon to bring up the light rogue.
"Alright. How many of these guys are le-"
*ding*
Right, why do I ask? I rolled my eyes at myself while opening the system notification.
Round complete.
*Congratulations!*
Your faction, (Elysium), has qualified for the final 4 of 'Until The Last'! Prepare to reconvene with the offensive members of (Frostroot).
As I finished reading over the final notification, a timer began counting down from 5. I glanced at Korbin, who merely shrugged with a big grin then said, "..I guess we're winning?" In a blink, reality bent around me into a massive tunnel, every feature of our mini-Elysium stretching like endless streaks of paint. All at once, the myriad of colors collapsed into my vision, cutting it off completely for several seconds. Then, my eyes fluttered open, finding myself on a cold metal floor.
There was no sky, yet there certainly weren't any walls or a ceiling in sight. Korbin stood beside me, both of us facing the three blue-skinned members of Frostroot we were teamed with. Funny, they'd apparently been our attackers, yet I hadn't heard once from them.
"Hey-hey! Long time no see." Korbin charismatically announced, pacing toward our temporary teammates. As we approached, I realized I never got a good look at their get-ups fully, having been slightly occupied with trying to reassociate with reality at the time. Vexa, the very obvious rogue of the squad, stood adorning a slightly glimmering, dark leather set of armor around her torso and shoulder blades. They covered layers of grey-threaded robes with ice-blue stripes and symbols etched along the sleeves and the multiple long strips of cloth that made up her train flowing at her hips.
Then there were her gloves that, upon giving a closer look, would probably be better considered long bracers. Their matte design looked incredibly flexible, extending up her forearm and past the elbow, with icy shards embedded around the outer layer. They were thin, curved too perfectly around Vexa's thin forearm, and yet the sheer mana wafting from the bracers carried a stench that reeked of…ash? Glancing further down, I could visibly see some strange, smoky energy floating up from the pair of handheld sickles clenched tightly in her grips, so much so her hand shook slightly. The cloud flickered, as if being projected, before dissipating entirely.
"I doubt we've the time for these informalities." Vexa scoffed, rolling her eyes as Korbin and I got within earshot. Clearly, she didn't feel the need to raise her voice to us, something I'm not exactly against.
"Vexa, we spoke of this." The towering man I believe went by-
"Shut up, Roen." Vexa shot back. Thank the gods she did too, I thought his name was Robert. Roen didn't reply to Vexa, instead planting his massive 7 foot maul's pommel deep into the metallic flooring with a screeching thump. His face peered from within a mess of fur inlining his helm. The rest of his body was covered in glimmer silver armor that peaked from the fluttering fur coat that draped over his shoulders and covered the majority of his midsection. The train split in four sections, each made of some thick, almost wool-like fur. He turned from glaring at his rogue comrade as Korbin and I strolled within a respectable distance for a conversation, revealing a massive scar across one side of his deep-blue face that left one eye completely white, the other still an oceanic blue.
"Apologies for her. We recognize you managed to win many rounds we ourselves fell short to complete our attacks on. I hope the extra work wasn't too much trouble." The towering baritone man belted, his deep, raspy voice carrying effortlessly. Though he bore an apology, he seemed genuinely curious more than anything at our success. I shrugged, looking over at Korbin who wore a similar winced look of uncertainty. Our brows furrowed, shaking our heads to one another after a pause.
"…no, no not really." I said, looking back to Roen's watchful eye.
"Yeah, pretty pedestrian to be honest." Korbin plainly added.
"Remarkable. Were the dwarves' attacking group as mana-technologically advanced as we encountered? Their weaponry was absolutely fascinating." The shorter, thin cloaked woman I recalled calling herself Elarra, a rather pretty name I'd never heard of. Vexa was pretty original too, but her attitudes already put quite the bad association with her name at this point. Plus, if my 2,582 days of personalized hell taught me anything, it's how to spot a liar by their stench.
"Very much so, though they grossly lacked coordination to support their firepower." Korbin replied in a rather professional tone. Elarra, the apparent mage based on the glowing mana strings stitched within her own pair of silken gloves that extended up to her elbow. It glimmered like thousands of snowflakes were buried and preserved behind weaving as shimmering as mica, accentuating her grey and white robes.
"I see…It would appear we may have underestimated you." Elarra admitted, though she showed no signs of reluctance. Vexa, on the other hand, looked rather peeved at even hearing the words.
"Probably, but that's to be expected. No hard feelings." Korbin said, waving it off with a chuckle.
*ding*
"All attacking members, prepare to be relocated back to your correlating factions defending members remaining." The system's deceivingly soft effeminate voice echoed over the vast abyss.
"What? But why?!" I asked aloud, confused as to why we bothered being thrown in with these people in the first place.
"Finally." Vexa groaned victoriously. Roen and Elarra on the other hand looked just as confused and annoyed as I am.
"Wait, wait hold on! Tell me more about their weapons! Did you get a hold of thei-", Elarra's words cut short as her head disintegrated into her midsection. In an instant, all three figures imploded into a lightless ball that hovered in place for a fraction of a second, before even that disappeared.
"Oh good. Glad I gave out free notes on those dwarves for fuck-all." Korbin said, throwing his hands up and letting them slap onto his metal plated hips.
"I just don't understand. Why were we even brought here if they were going to be pulled away to their own factions again? Doesn't that seem like a massive waste?" I asked, practically begging for some sort of explanation. Korbin's brow furrowed, his arms folding in thought.
"…maybe to learn them?" He offered. Before I could ask for any kind of expansion from that ambiguous-ass answer, the sound of heavy armor clanging off the floor brought my attention to our flank. There lay three figures, two of which I couldn't possibly forget.
"Oh damn, that was fast." Lonni said, glancing around our floating metal platform. Cassi smacked his arm and pointed to us, wearing a half-grin of her own. Though, her eyes locked with mine, and instantly her smile was wiped away.
"Tom, you're still here. Are you…?" She began, almost immediately walking in my direction wearing the utmost look of concern.
"I'm good, Cass. And, I know I scared everyone back there-" I began, turning to face Lonni who looked on curiously as he strolled behind her.
"-I'm sorry. Especially to you, big man. I wasn't in my right mind and…I'm not sure I'm all the way there yet to be totally honest but, I feel a lot better. Like me." I said, hoping to at least put the awkwardness of my apparent attempts to bite through Lonni's jugular behind us for now. Sure, the occasional whiff of blood brought a few Ferrell intrusive thoughts but, I've learned to cull those pretty quickly the past few rounds of defense. Honestly with every fight we've won, the more grounded in reality I feel. In my mind, the best course is to fight alongside each other again to resolidify that familiarity.
"You're sure? I don't wa-" Cassi began, her words cut short by Lonni shoving by her with his open palm held up. I slapped my hand into his, tightening into a firm handshake that became a quick parting hug. The most masculine kind of affection, one befitting for the 7 foot teddy-bear.
"Don't even sweat it. It's just good to see you're not foaming at the mouth anymore." Lonni said with a gasping laugh that was more of a sigh of relief than anything. I peered back at Cassi, whose eyes were down at the twin blades in my hands. It was after I dropped them on the floor before her jaw relaxed, adopting the same relieved smile behind Lonni's towering figure.
"Seems like you brought a straggler. What's your n-"
"It's an honor to meet you, you must be Korbin! Words traveled far and wide of Elysium's vapid success on Earth's west hemisphere, and Aerin's only had great things to say of you when we spoke!" A giddy stranger's voice echoed from behind both Lonni and Cass, his voice sounding weirdly familiar.
"Right, you're a fiery one, aren't you?" Korbin replied. I slinked away from Lonni's massive grasp, peering around to find Korbin standing across from another warrior, wearing glimmering bronze colosseum-style armor with frankly impractical gaps revealing flesh. They clutched a short gripped sword, the round pommel and straight blade slowly connecting the dots in my reluctant mind on where I'd seen this guy before.
"Haha! Oh no, a common misconception but I do not wield the power of fire! No, I've the privilege to have been imbued with the undying flame of Will!" The stranger proudly proclaimed, as flashes of a beaten and battered warrior from the tournament played through my mind.
Oh no.
"My name is Kota, the Will-Warrior, at your service." Kota finished, offering Korbin a handshake. Korbin scanned him up and down a single time, as Kota remained firm. He glanced over to us, causing Cassi and Lonni to shrug and shake their heads dismissively. Finally, Korbin broke the silence with a deep chuckle, excitedly accepting Kota's handshake.
"Well, Kota! I like the cut of your jib. You got guts, I can see it in that glare of yours." Korbin said, slapping Kota's shoulder like they were old chums from school.
"You honor me, Korbin. As did your comrades here-" Kota said, giving a deep bow before gesturing his hand over to Cassi and Lonni. His eyes locked onto mine, widening in shock.
"-…Tom! The Lightning Warrior! What a pleasant surprise, my old friend!" Kota passionately bursted out, jogging in my direction with outstretched arms. Korbin smiled devilishly at the entire scene from behind Kota, as Cassi audibly let out a sighed "oh fuck", behind me. I laughed myself a little at how quickly she'd taken the words out of my mouth.
"Hey, buddy. How's the integration been treatin' you?" I asked earnestly, as the few times I reflected when we'd fought at the tournament, I couldn't help but cringe at his ability to take hits combined with his severe inability to dish any out. He laughed at the question as he forced a hug around my arms that remained at their sides.
"Ahh, about as kindly as any other, my friend. And yet, after each battle with every evil and abomination thrown our way, we remain even still." Kota said, holding me by my shoulder blades. I couldn't help but notice the sincerity in his eyes had only grown more intense since I'd last seen him. Not a flicker of that light had diminished, no matter how certain I am of the beating he must have taken to get this far.
"Right. I got to ask man, how did you end up so far into The Labyrinth Of Lost Legends…alone?" I asked after a brief pause, realizing there had to be some credence to his abilities if he really has survived this long. Kota chuckled, slapping my arm like Korbin had him just a few seconds ago.
"Because there was no other choice, Tom." He said.
"You know each other?! Dude, you got to hear about this guys abilities man, he's freakin' crazy!" Lonni said to me, pounding his massive palm on Kota, making him dip down with each heavy impact. I glanced over at Cassi, who rolled her eyes in annoyance. Realizing she had to deal with Kota for an extended time, a tinge of satisfaction tickled the back of my mind.
"Alright, lay it on me, Will-Warrior."
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"-without any of his chosen, or any Flodhests nearby, he'll have nowhere to go before we're through with him, once and for all." Beloris said, clenching his sanguine-skinned fists. Anutir's eyes narrowed on him, peering away from the humans bickering with one another below.
"And what of Tom? His uncanny relation to Galenthelos in just about every way except philosophy will make him his top priority. And even if we manage to preserve his path, his alignment with earth only further complicates things." Anutir pointed out. I peered over the infernal railing, glancing down at Tom in all his wily energy. Narrowing my gaze, I noticed a familiar, dark presence wriggling across the man's back under a few layers of cloth and armor.
"Whatever do you mean? He's hardly involved in their political mechanations, and by design at that." Beloris replied, his permanent smirk audible in his voice.
"It's beyond him. He brought together an infernally touched spirit, one that shares the body with Galenthelos' own spirit, with her." Anutir replied, fully earning my attention. She pointed back down over the railing, at the marginally taller human woman standing beside Tom.
"And what of her?" I asked, now curious myself at the sheer amount of water mana swirling amidst her aura.
"Her affinity is of holy water mana variants naturally, however her path has wrought the ability to wield infernal water skills as an H-grade. And I wish to know how, and why." Anutir replied, turning her deep blue gaze to the devil sitting across from her. Beloris' sharp toothy grin widened across his red face.
"The secrets in the fine print, my dearest friend. Or have you already forgotten what I'm capable of? The sparky one talks to future dragons because of me." Beloris answered.
"Enough gloating, talk." Anutir coldly replied, showing zero emotion to his fishing for praise. Beloris' lips sealed, his grin dying in his eyes and remaining only in his lips.
"She's a Hells-Knight. Well, in the early iterations of a path that can lead to truly reaching Hells-Knighthood, so long as she doesn't fail." Beloris replied plainly. Anutir's head tilted to the side.
"You're kidding? But her affinities chapter froze over three integrations ago? How did you get those rec-"
"Ah-ah, no secrets in front of guests. No offense." Beloris directed my way, but I had long lost interest in their bickering, as I sincerely doubt the Hell-Knights Chapters were making a meaningful resurgence anytime soon. Not so long as the system still exists.
"This one is infected with a curse long extinct." I replied, looking down at Tom as he scratched casually at the ancient darkness wriggling through his skin.
"You see it too? I thought you said you hadn't cursed the mortal, Beloris?" Anutir added with a slightly higher pitched tone. An emotional response I'd never heard from the goddess of all the oceans.
"I didn't, I never had too. He earned this one himself." Beloris replied plainly. His yellow and red eyes locked with mine, showing a glint of recognition.
"I could easily remove the affliction, as I'm sure you know as well considering you recognized my old work. It's an energy born at a rather…adolescent point in my path. It does not carry the safeguards my newer work does." Beloris replied, never taking his gaze from mine. Meeting his glare, I grinned and waved off the offer.
"No, no. We didn't come here to give handouts to mortals. If he manages to shake this curse on his own, I may very well consider taking him on as a Chosen of my own." I replied coolly. Anutir turned around in her chair to face me, Beloris cocking his head curiously before replying.
"I'm certain you're mistaken, Tom is already someone's Chosen?" He said, flashing his toothy grin with a furrowed brow. I smiled, glancing down at the resilient ball of lightning clutching a dead-god's prized weapons like a walking stick.
"Right, well. Life is long, isn't it?"
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