328. Fifth Tier Breakthrough (I)
Zane spent a nice weekend with Reina back on Earth. They went on a beach date. She came in a little flower-print bikini which he found quite distracting; Zane didn't need to change much—his daily outfit was pretty much beach-ready.
For a while, she lay on him as they sipped sweet fruit drinks and told him about a few of the goings-on in the World Tree Faction. The potion-making was going well, but a few troublesome things had been stressing her out lately. She'd had to put down a minor noble uprising, incited by what remained of House Arandor—they still had an Ancestor in seclusion, which meant the family kept some influence, even disgraced. They were a thorn in her side.
He quite liked seeing the tension in her body melt away as she stayed with him. She leaned on him more and more.
She asked him about his time in the Conclave, and he gave her a quick run-down. He mentioned how it was a funny thing—he thought of her in that final lift.
"Zane…" she whispered, wide-eyed.
"What's up—"
Then he felt the overwhelming happiness pouring off her.
She was all over him a moment later.
They did a good deal of Leveling, after that, which ended with her sprawled over him, once-pristine hair a mess, breathing heavily. Her eyes were closed, and there was a little satisfied smile on her face.
𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝕦𝕡!
𝔼𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝟜𝟞𝟜 -> 𝟜𝟞𝟝
At the World Tree Faction, she always held herself with faultless posture, like a perfect queen. But with Zane, she let herself dissolve into him until it was just his body holding her up. She let herself become completely unwound with him. He found it quite nice.
They lay there a while, listening to the soft lapping of the waves. She snuggled into his chest, tracing a rune on his pec idly.
"Oh!" she yawned, blinked, like she was just remembering something. "Evan and Avery sent mail."
It came in the form of scrying glass messages.
Evan showed up with a little scarf around his neck, in something like a Boy Scout's outfit, but in medieval garb. He was beaming.
He was still plugging away at his quest and making good progress. He'd made it about halfway through—only now he had to solve a riddle given by a sphinx to be let through this treacherous mountain pass. He'd been stumped on it for three days.
He started telling them the riddle. About halfway through his telling, Reina paused the recording, turned to Zane, correctly guessed the rest of the riddle, and then solved it.
"..."
She sent the answer off to Evan.
Avery's message was less happy.
She'd lost the bidding for the Sacred Bone to that rich young master, and she was still quite salty about it.
She did buy an elixir as a consolation prize. The 'Draught of Eternal Spring'—it was supposed to be quite good for any water-based laws. She meant to chug it all down and see if she could make it to Tier 5, and then some. She was going to go into a cave and power nap for a bit.
"I didn't need that bone anyway!"
She cracked her knuckles. "No more playing around," she declared. She had her hoodie all the way up. She said she was going to do a training arc.
Reina thought she might be going through a phase.
***
sᴜᴘᴇʀᴅᴜɴɢᴇᴏɴ
ғʟᴏᴏʀ ???
Meanwhile, at the bottom of a dank, lightless well...
A cloud of runes floated in the air, written in bright white lines of pure Destruction. The color on the back of your eyelids after staring too long at the sun. They crackled thickly, suppressing a certain Monster King. So badly it couldn't even take solid form.
They shimmered, spreading through the entirety of the space. Tearing apart the noxious fumes choking the air. It was the only way to hold that Monster down.
Then an eye opened up high above the well. A massive eye with a snake-like pupil of red-orange, the color of dying hearths.
Then a blackness pricked the midst of it.
Expanding until it filled the entire eye. Then Corruption was all it showed.
A haze of blackness descended, encroached on those white runes. Dark Creation descended on Destruction. There came a hissing in a pitch beyond the hearing of any living creature.
The runes began to melt.
The fiery gaze swept the cage, wiping out the lights one by one. Until all that was left was the fumes.
Satisfaction glinted in that eye. And at last, the Demon Overlord spoke.
𝔸𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕖, 𝕞𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕦𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕒𝕟𝕥... 𝔾𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕘, 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕌𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝔹𝕠𝕘!
The creature came together out of the fog, coalescing. Suggestions of eyes popped up along that bubbling tar-like mass as it condensed into a sludge of foul-smelling decay, gathering mass fast, until it grew to the size of a pickup truck.
Trees and branches and vines, sludged over and dripping, poked out of it as it assumed its original form once again.
A hideous jagged smile stretched from one end of its boiling body to another. It gurgled its thanks.
𝕄𝕒𝕝𝕫𝕒𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕙 𝕕𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕝𝕠𝕪𝕒𝕝 𝕤𝕦𝕓𝕛𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕤. The eye narrowed. 𝔾𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕠𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕓𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞. ℝ𝕒𝕚𝕤𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕋𝕖𝕟 𝕋𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕍𝕠𝕚𝕕𝕤𝕡𝕒𝕨𝕟! 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕒 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕒𝕕𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕖𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔼𝕟𝕕...
The bog fiend gave a deep gurgle.
𝔾𝕠𝕠𝕕. Malzareth paused. 𝕀 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕒𝕤𝕜 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕪𝕠𝕦. 𝔸 𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕝 𝕠𝕟𝕖.
Another gurgle.
𝔸𝕟 𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕞𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕤 𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕟 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟... 𝕒 𝕗𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 '𝕊𝕒𝕧𝕒𝕘𝕖 𝕊𝕒𝕘𝕖'. Malzareth hissed the name with real hatred.
ℍ𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕟𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝕟𝕠𝕨. 𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝕚𝕟 𝕒 𝕙𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤... 𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕒𝕪 𝕘𝕣𝕠𝕨 𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕒 𝕕𝕚𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖. 𝔾𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝕔𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤—𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕟𝕚𝕒 𝕥𝕠 𝕘𝕣𝕠𝕨—𝕚𝕗 𝕙𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕒𝕘𝕖...
The eye shuddered. ℍ𝕖 𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕓𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕧𝕚𝕧𝕖!
Goloog cocked its head. Gurgled a question.
ℕ𝕠. ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕟𝕠𝕨. 𝔸𝕤𝕤𝕒𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕚𝕞 𝕠𝕦𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖 𝕕𝕚𝕗𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕦𝕝𝕥. ℍ𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕠𝕗 𝕒 𝕙𝕦𝕞𝕒𝕟 𝕟𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕕 ℕ𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖—𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕔𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕞𝕒𝕟... 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕙𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕠𝕠 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕪 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℂ𝕪𝕔𝕝𝕖.
It spat out the words. 𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝕀 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕥 𝕙𝕦𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕦𝕖 𝕡𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕒𝕝 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕒𝕟 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕒𝕤 'ℤ𝕒𝕟𝕖 𝕎𝕒𝕝𝕜𝕖𝕣'... 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕤𝕦𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕘𝕥𝕙𝕤 𝕨𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕘𝕠 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕪 𝕙𝕚𝕞. 𝔹𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖, 𝔾𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕘. 𝕀𝕗—𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟—𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕒 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕖𝕩𝕖𝕔𝕦𝕥𝕖 𝕙𝕚𝕞... 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥. 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕔𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕠𝕗 𝕚𝕥.
Goloog's dark eyes glimmered.
***
"Lord Zane! Welcome back!"
A grinning, waving Jawl greeted him by the teleporters at Planet Stormhaven. Zane waved back.
The grizzled warrior steward had his spirit weapon strapped to his back—a giant thick longbow. His fuzzy yak-fur cape was a little bloody.
"How was your time up north?"
"Pretty good," said Zane. He looked around, taking in the cracked landscape, the funnels of storms raging in the distance. A light haze was descending, signaling acid rain. There was a familiar smoky burning smell and the distant crackling of Stormfire. Nice and comforting.
Jawl and the servants had made Zane a little welcome-back feast of yak steak. He'd just finished up a hunt for them, so they'd be fresh-made once Zane arrived.
Zane thanked the fellow and dug into the meal.
Jawl gave him a rundown as he munched.
"No one's sent any big new challenges since you left," said Jawl. He chuckled. "After that last showing of yours—that Ten-Man Challenge—no one's dared, I'd wager."
Zane nodded.
"Ah! And Master Noughtfire will see you as soon as you're ready."
Zane figured he'd head over right after he finished up. He wiped some oil from his mouth. It almost felt weird, eating cooked meat after all that time. Quite delicious, though—Jawl and his tribesfolk sure knew their way around a grill. Raw or grilled—both had quite some merit, he felt.
Just then, a herd of little dust plumes rose from the distance.
Jawl groaned. "Don't tell me..."
It was Jawl's nephews—the little Princes of Stormhaven, clamoring up in a rush. "Zane, Zane!"
Jawl was faintly embarrassed. "I told them not to come out this time," he grumbled, pinching his nose. But they looked so eager he didn't seem to have the heart to tell them off.
Zane didn't mind.
A bunch of wide-eyed faces clustered around Zane, looking up at him.
"Lord Zane?" It was the oldest of them—a fellow of about 17, if Zane remembered right. Nak. Nak came up to Zane's shoulders. "Can you please show us your new powers from the Steel-peoples?"
Zane finished up his steak. Then went out and punch-exploded some thirty-foot-tall rocks for them, to their delight.
"Don't try this at home," he said, frowning, after a few of them wound back to have a go at their own rocks.
Then there was little Rei, who—to the surprise of his whole Storm Drake tribe—had started manifesting pseudo-Stormfire at just seven years old after seeing Zane do it. They all thought he might be a little genius. He was quite eager to show Zane.
"Huh," said Zane, inspecting the little fellow's flame. This fellow really was talented. Maybe as much as one of the top-fifty World Rankers back on Earth.
He gave Rei a tip on how to control the thing better, and Rei went off to practice, all excited.
Might be something could come of it.
***
Zane took the winding steps up the little misty mountain, past the ashen-white trees. It always seemed eerily quiet whenever he came. Maybe it helped with concentrating or something.
He found Sage Noughtfire in the garden outside the little hut at the peak, holding a brush. There was a canvas on an easel before him.
The old Sage seemed to be painting.
To Zane's surprise, he felt a familiar Law on that tip—Destruction. But where Zane's Destruction was a hint—a wispy candle's flame—this felt like a torch. A single point of blinding white.
It was enough destructive potential to cave in an E-ranked planet.
But Noughtfire was moving it gently. Keeping all that power concentrated on a tiny point—somehow he kept the light from emanating, kept even its rays contained, so it seemed little more than a laser. Tracing what looked like a simple rune on the page, leaving simple lines—it looked like calligraphy. As it moved through the page, it left the cleanest strokes Zane had ever seen.
Noughtfire moved smoothly, slowly, as though in a trance. There was a simple beauty to it.
Zane stood there patiently, letting him finish. It was a bit hypnotizing to watch.
At last, Noughtfire set down the brush.
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AN:- I'm back but sadly my schedule is hectic so i've decided to reduced the number of chapters uploaded from 8 per week to 4 per week. So basically every alternate day. Sorry for the inconvenience.