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

[Sp0rkG0d]

eh. Picking two relatives isnt that far off from picking one of them and one of your own people as far as it goes for trying to build connections. I feel like this should at least be addressed even if just offhand like 'damn that ability is broken enough that its worth losing the connections we'd get from picking someone with different connections' or having someone else point it out to him which would show how inexperienced he is in these things and maybe setup some future growth. At this point I'm assuming the story has already been written past that point though so I guess I just hope its the second.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

After I completed Astaroth, I headed for LeClaire's headquarters under Murmur. In order to use my new form, I needed to study LeClaire and his people. An understanding of the person I was mimicking was pretty much required.

Dantalion was all but made for this kind of thing, so as I settled in for my stakeout, I only had to create a parallel to manage things as I took stock of my new domain.

Astaroth had been complicated to create. Mainly because I needed to construct a complete framework for deception, and I didn't really have the base components for it. I'd considered for quite a while before I settled on the ingredients, and the final results had seemed pretty much perfect for my purposes.

I'd started with Double Trouble. Teleportation was only one of its abilities, and a useful one, but not what I was looking for here, at least not yet. Rather, the second portion of the subskill, the one that left behind an exact duplicate, had been the seed I'd needed to grow my masterpiece.

Secondly I'd used Murmur, the manipulation of the senses was its whole purpose, so that had been a no brainer, but my third choice had been a little unorthodox. Mornax for solidity, melted together with Adherent Fire tied into the spatial aspect of Double Trouble, all of it blending to create a unique deceptive framework.

Essentially, after I used Dantalion to create a profile, I'd trigger Astaroth, and the original me would vanish. Rather than changing my features with some kind of illusion, Double Trouble and the Adherent Fire shifted my physical form into a semi Void state, taking advantage of the Void's stealth capabilities. My Void self remained out of synch with reality as the illusion simulated the aura and physique of the person I'd copied, which, after solidification from Mornax, because a perfect duplicate that even higher ranked watchers couldn't identify without certain special skills.

It had taken an exceptional amount of creativity to create Astaroth, because unlike Stealth, which just deleted me from people's perception, Astaroth was designed to operate under scrutiny. The key to good Stealth was not being noticed, but Astaroth was another level of difficulty entirely because the POINT was to be noticed, and still pass undetected.

The project was one of the most complex I'd ever undertaken. Barring a few with special senses, it should withstand cursory scrutiny even from high ranked Ascendants. AND it would work even better in the Void, considering the nature of Adherent Fire and how it could intrude in realspace.

I'd been somewhat inspired by both the lessons learned from the old man's tome and by Callie's brilliant and unconventional approach to her own powers when she'd created her new form, and I'd been right, it was nice to stretch my creative muscles.

I was so excited about testing it out in the field, I barely noticed the time passing. Finally, my parallel informed me I'd gathered enough information to begin my infiltration, and that LeClair himself had just left for the night. I turned to Zeke. "You coming along for this? Or are you going to watch from a distance?"

He shrugged. "You don't need me underfoot. If anyone too scary gets the drop on you I'll step in."

I smiled at him. "You've been awfully quiet lately," I told him sadly. "Nothing to say?"

"I'm not sure how much right I have," he said after a pause. "I'm not your dad, Shane. Sure, I was always around, but you raised yourself. And now especially, with Eli and Sasha back in your life…you don't need another parent."

"No. I don't," I agreed. "But I still need an Uncle. You're not replaceable. Not even by my dad. I know you and him have a ton of history, but I barely know the guy. I don't need to be parented. Not by any of you. But that doesn't mean I'll ever stop valuing your contribution. I always want to hear what you have to say."

He smiled sadly. "Maybe. But you're growing fast. The day is coming when you won't need my protection anymore. You're almost as strong now as I was when you stepped onto the Path, and that's nothing to scoff at. Only a few short years and that dumb little introvert I raised is about to become the Wishmaster. I don't want to step back either, but it's about time you start learning to stand on your own. Not all at once, of course, but one day you'll turn around and I'll be far in the rearview, too weak to help. When that day comes I don't want you to get blindsided."

My chest tightened. He was right. I was C-rank now, and I'd be B-rank in time, and then I'd reach A. At the rate I was growing, there was no way Zeke would break through to S-rank before I caught up. And once I passed him…what would that be like? Zeke had never been overt about his protection, but he'd always BEEN there. No matter what I did I'd known I had him on my side. Supporting me. Keeping me safe.

"What are you going to do when that happens?" I asked him. "I know you aren't planning to desert or anything, but you and Stella have been getting closer with so much time together. Mom has been bugging ME to have kids, albeit subtly, I can't believe that someone your age isn't thinking about it."

Not that I assumed everyone wanted children, but Zeke…Zeke was good with kids. He'd seemed unreliable growing up, but over the years, the comments he'd made and the discussions we'd had made it clear that he'd always looked out for me. He'd be a great dad, and the way he talked about his family sometimes…I was pretty sure he wasn't opposed to the idea. Once he was free of his responsibilities to me and my dad what reason did he have to avoid it?

"I've considered it," he admitted. "Stacy, Stella, whatever name you want to use, she's just starting out on her path with Celia. But she's made a few comments that make me think she wouldn't be opposed. You were a surprisingly cute kid. I do kind of miss that."

"First of all," I said in faux outrage. "HEY! And second of all, you would be good at it. I can arrange for you to have a place to settle down here. Somewhere lavish and well protected. Assuming I don't lose this trial, get exiled, and then get brutally assassinated the second I step out of the Wishworld."

He snorted. "Are there no lengths you won't go to in your quest to evade responsibility?"

I just laughed at that. Trust Zeke to reassure me I'd be fine by openly mocking me. "The offer is open," I reiterated. "Now. If you'll excuse me, I need to go effortlessly bypass one of the most complex security systems I've ever seen with the poise and grace of a professional thief."

I stood up, stepped forward, and, with a slight shift of my perspective, triggered Astaroth.

There was a kind of…dissonance. The world doubled, like I'd gotten incredibly drunk of had my head injured. One of the sides stabilized into a normal point of view out of my eyes, albeit a little lower to the ground, and the other was my normal self.

I stood behind a figure, towering over them. The figure was shorter than me, with curly red hair and a mustache, wearing a wine red pea coat and orange scarf. He had on a pair of half moon glasses with smoky black lenses and his eyebrow was raised insouciantly, like he was defying your expectations just by standing in front of you, and was proud of it.

Raising my hand, I examined it, and the figure did the same. Zeke, who was standing where I'd left him, GAPED at me.

"Shane, what the actual FUCK?" he sputtered. He squinted, and I felt a sense of exposure. Zeke was one of those people with the unique senses to penetrate this kind of deception, especially as he'd just seen me use it. It still took him a minute to manage. "Gods, kid, that's…holy shit. I can barely see through that. What did you DO?":

I explained it to him, and he shook his head in awe. "That's kind of brilliant. Seeing through a disguise is easy, but that avatar ISN'T disguised. It's a construct, and it's made with excruciating detail. It's not foolproof, but it's nothing to sneeze at, even to someone at my level."

Which was a huge compliment. Zeke was an A-ranker. Two full ranks above me. I didn't know if it would hold in front of an S-rank Ascendant, but even if it didn't being able to do this much was incredible. The things I'd managed to learn from the tome, and the various unique power interactions I had access to, they were all coming together to form something unique and powerful.

Shooting him a grin, I saluted grandly and then turned to head over to the huge warehouse complex LeClaire used as his business headquarters. Sure enough, as I approached the gate, the guard snapped to attention. "Boss?" His voice sounded confused. "You forget something?"

"Yes, I left behind some of the shipping documents for the Renaud exchange," I said with a relaxed smile. While many high ranking Ascendants were assholes to their subordinates, the interactions between LeClair and his people were pretty harmonious. He was more carrot than stick when it came to those already in his employ.

The guard, Theo, chuckled. "Ouch, yeah, you don't want to mess that up. That miss Lacey was a scary one."

We shared a chuckle, and I strolled past him, heading inside. He didn't notice a single issue. Astaroth wasn't a simple disguise, it was a CREATED being deduced from the traces read by Dantalion. My information gathering form could unearth and deconstruct myriad phenomena, not just baked on observation, but on various psychic resonances and special senses designed to detect metaphysical information buried in the very aura of a place or thing.

Dantalion's model didn't just make a face, it made a whole body. Vocal chords, muscle memory, balance, gait. After reverse engineering years of interactions engraved in the very stones of this place, the construct I was currently controlling was so thoroughly like LeClair, I doubted LECLAIR could tell the difference, much less his guard.

I strode through his complex, ignoring all the workers except those few he would normally greet, and even those I mostly just dismissed with a nod. Finally, I stepped into his office, situated in the back of the lot.

Closing the door, I turned to the safe. Dantalion had, of course, deduced the code during my stakeout. But the code was only half the battle. I had to hope that the aura I'd copied was good enough to fool this thing. Which was no mean feat. This was an Archimedes Ten Didexotronal Temporal Script safe. It was top of the line. A B-class security device that should be completely impossible to fake or bypass.

I punched in the code without hesitation, following the muscle memory of the hands that had done this a hundred times before. The screen was a series of complex pictograms and each touch sent frissons of exploratory chill through me as it scanned my body, looking for any signs of deception. And found none. A solidified illusion projected through the Void and deduced from perfect information gathering. Flawless.

With a beep, the door opened, and I pulled it clear, sifting through contracts until I found Marco's. I didn't destroy it yet, not wanting to tip my hand. LeClair would notice when it went up. I pushed the safe door closed and headed out in the direction I'd mapped as Marco's lab. Time to go pick up my Master of Development.

 

[drake_azathoth]

My Void self remained out of synch with reality as the illusion simulated the aura and physique of the person I'd copied, which, after solidification from Mornax, because a perfect duplicate that even higher ranked watchers couldn't identify without certain special skills.

Click to shrink...

which, after solidification from Mornax, BECAME a perfect duplicate

Thanks for the chapter! Shane and Zeke's relationship remains one of the most inspiring parental relationships I've read lately. Half the love I have for this series is how realistic yet wholesome the relationships in it are. It's like bizarroworld xianxia. And Astaroth is scary stuff.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Walking among the employees at LeClair's compound as LeClair would have been just asking to get approached, so as soon as I was around the corner, I did a quick switch to another random employee who had left around the same time. I'd gotten a pretty decent catalog of potential forms from the stakeout, given Dantalion's range and the time I'd spent.

The new guy, Bill, was an unobtrusive porter. He didn't talk to anyone and was pretty much always moving around the complex, so I was unlikely to get stopped.

After walking for about fifteen minutes, I stopped outside of a large brass door covered in gears. It was set flush into the wall, and all the gears were built around a central wheel with a handle. You turned the wheel in in a complete rotation and the gears would withdraw bars of metal that were driven into the brick at intervals up the length of the barrier.

Reaching out, I rapped on the surface in a particular pattern. The sheer amount of insignificant details I'd picked up after a few hours of Dantalion research on this compound blew my mind. The longer I stayed, the deeper I got. Names, dates, food preferences, allergies, composition of items. Luckily this place was just a business owned by a C-ranker. If the materials were too advanced my senses would have bounced off. As it was, it had taken me quite a while to deconstruct the safe. I could do one rank higher with enough time invested, but that was my limit for Dantalion.

The clanging of my knuckles on the door rang out through the hallway, breaking the strange stillness of this area of the compound. It was quiet here. Unnaturally quiet. An oppressive, overwhelming stillness that made it seem like someone had killed everyone who had ever set foot here.

One minute after my knock though, the gears began to spin, and the door popped open, releasing a cacophony from the other side. Waiting to see if anyone invited me, I shrugged and pulled it open, stepping inside.

Marco sat suspended from a harness in the middle of the room, a large can of some kind of chemical accelerant burning in a tight, controlled jet. I'd have called it a blowtorch, but the flames looked like they were made of glass and had frozen mist coming off them, so I wasn't sure that was the right word.

In front of him, hanging from the ceiling by a series of thick chains, a giant mechanical spider dangled. He seemed to be working diligently to perfectly merge disparate pieces of metal with the torch, and where it passed, the surface became smooth and conjoined like they were being remade into a single unbroken plane of metal. He was wearing a pair of thick goggles covered in lenses that could be flipped down or up in succession, and he had several of them down and was observing the melting metal.

"What is it Bill?" He called, distracted by his work. "I'm on a deadline today. I need to get this done for the Rayken Expo on Saylar 4 next month, and the transit time is going to be hell. I have three hours to get everything sewn up."

"Think you're going to miss your deadline," I said wryly as I withdrew his contract from my ring. "In fact, I think you're going to miss a lot of deadlines. Your sister sent me."

He paused, flame hanging in the air, tongues off glass fire warping the space strangely before he switched it off. Turning in his harness, he pushed up his goggles to stare down at me in confusion.

His face was shockingly young. Not like actually childish, really, he was probably physically around the same age as me. But he had round cheeks and big eyes that made him seem excessively youthful. One eye was green, the other blue, and under his mop of curly dark hair, they stood out even more than they would on most people.

"How do you know I even HAVE a sister?" he asked suspiciously. "LeClaire can't mention her to anyone. That was part of my-"

"Your contract," I interrupted. "Yeah, I know, I'm holding it right now. I know what it says. But I don't work for LeClaire. Bill does, but I'm not actually Bill, as you may have already begun to surmise. I'm your sister's new boss, and I'll be YOUR new boss too, if you accept my terms and allow me to get you out of here."

He seemed too stunned to react. "I…what?" He was staring at the contract. "Where did you GET that?"

"From the safe," I said with a shrug. "Where else? Now you ready to go? Because I've got stuff to do today. I can explain the details once we're out, but your sister drew up a job contract for you to sign." I produced it and flicked it up to him. "Don't sign it now, wait until we're out, just read it over and let know if it works for you."

Frowning, he scanned the information. Anyone that deep into crafting would be heavy on the Focus, so remembering and reading over a contract wasn't hard. It was a little denser than most documents, but he finished it quickly, then tossed it back.

"You said my sister already works for you?" he asked slowly. "I can believe she helped write this. The rider forbidding me from gambling sounds like her."

"Yeah, I'm not letting you do that," I informed him bluntly. "It got you into trouble last time."

He scowled. "Because they CHEATED. I calculated every possible vector for that horse race. Physical condition, windspeed, I even modeled the potential interaction values and the chances of injury. They were doping those horses. The whole thing was a trap to get me into their service. I don't have a gambling problem."

"That's a relief," I said cheerfully. "That means stopping immediately won't be hard for you at all. Look, your sister told me that you only started gambling to pay for materials to grind your skills. After so long working for LeClaire, I'm guessing that's not an issue anymore, and I'll supply your mats once you're working for me. You'll be too busy to play the ponies anyway. So are you coming with me or not?"

From what Holly told me, the situation with Marco really WAS LeClaire's fault. Marco wasn't so much a gambling addict as a desperate scientist in need of funds. He'd managed to calculate several optimal strategies for gambling when starting out, and had made lots of money for his work. Unfortunately, he'd gotten arrogant and become obsessed with winning. He'd forgotten the first rule of gambling: never bet anything you can't afford to lose.

Honestly I had no issue with gambling, having been to casinos myself, but if this guy was going to be my Master of Development I needed him focused on ACTUAL development and not trying to calculate odds for horse racing. Hence the stipulation.

Holly seemed pretty sure he'd do it. She didn't think he really cared about the gambling itself, he was just unhappy with giving up when he was beaten. Eventually, he sighed and nodded.

"Excellent," I said with a grin. "Now, since we're here and not coming back, why don't you tell me which of these things is valuable so we can steal literally all of it." Breaking into the safe had me feeling heisty, and I had zero qualms about robbing someone who fixed a horse race to trick someone into eternal servitude.

He blinked at me, thrown by the rapid tone shift. "Umm…ok?" he said slowly. "There are a few valuable materials earmarked for other projects, and a couple pieces of equipment that he bought at my request." He raised his hand to show off the glass flame blowtorch. "Like this Freearuk Condenser. The fuel comes from the blood of a rare mutated offspring that belongs to an A-rank monster called a Valbeshir. They are extremely dangerous and difficult to catch, and that's when they AREN'T mated."

"Cool, pass it," I said, holding up my hands. He tossed it over and I put it into my ring. Marco himself didn't have one, presumably for this exact reason, so I was going to need to carry everything personally. Which I was fine with. I had the space.

So we spent the next hour or so grabbing everything that wasn't nailed down. And some things that were. And the nails that were securing them. We ended up with quite a haul. A lot of machines I had no context for, but also some really interesting materials. Various types or rare energy infused ores and metals, gemstones with special properties, and even a few plants still in the pot.

When we were done, I glanced around the room and couldn't help but let out a soft whistle. The floor was totally empty, with big outlines where machines had been, and only the odd bolt rolling away from the empty spaces we'd cleared. We'd even taken the door off its hinges (apparently it was made of some special silencing metal that was pretty expensive on its own), and now it was definitely time to go.

With the security out of the way and the contract retrieved, I dismissed Astaroth and called Murmur into existence. Seeing me turn from Bill the inconsequential porter to a six and a half foot tall behemoth in high grade armor wearing a frankly terrifying mask was understandably jarring for Marco, but after the last hour or so he was getting used to surprises, and he barely even flinched.

"Now that we're under concealment, I can introduce myself properly. My name is Shane Wyndham, have you heard of me?" He nodded slowly and I smiled. "Good, that makes this much easier." He hadn't heard of the cabinet positions, being much too young, so I filled him in on everything, including his own potential position. Then I pulled out HIS contract with LeCLaire and burned it up with a casual flex of Mephistopheles.

He didn't hesitate for a moment after that, requesting the contract his sister had written out and signing it immediately. I just laughed. "Impressive resolve. I like it. Come on, let's go see your sister. Don't worry about anyone noticing us, we won't be seen."

My Dantalion stakeout had given me absurd levels of data about this place, down to the bedrock. Murmur contained Dantalion as well, which was why it deduced and improved stealth from sitting in place for a long time, but after hours of mapping the complex, my Stealth was pretty much unbreakable by anyone who wasn't an A-ranker. It wasn't as good as Astaroth, but it was good enough, especially with another person on hand to hide.

As expected, we ran into no issues strolling out of the place, even after someone noticed the missing door and all the stolen materials and activated a lockdown, we strolled right through the panicking security like they weren't even there.

We met Zeke outside, and he was grinning at me with what I could only describe as overwhelming pride. "You robbed them!" he said enthusiastically. "I was worried you'd just get in and out with no benefits."

"They tricked Marco into eternal servitude," I said with dignity. "They deserved it."

Marco nodded along, and Zeke just laughed. "Of course they did, kid." There was a lot of subtext there. Zeke thought anyone who had something he wanted deserved to get robbed, and that I was making excuses. Which I wasn't. But it didn't matter.

"Come on," I told them with an eye roll. "Let's get out of here." As we walked down the street I left Murmur active, and I chatted with Marco about what it would be like working for me and what his duties would be. It was a nice, pleasant conversation. And if we occasionally got sidetracked discussing where to sell the materials we didn't need…well that was pleasant too. For me at least.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

After rescuing Marco, I finally had all of my cabinet slots filled. Which meant my only major business, barring the big festival if it was still happening, was the trial. Thinking about that though, it reminded me of another thing I hadn't done yet. "We should go visit Roland," I told Callie. "We got so wrapped up in Darren's death we didn't even think to see how he's doing."

I felt bad just thinking about it. Poor Roland had been a victim of an attack same as Darren, and we hadn't even bothered checking in.

It wasn't hard to get directions to his place, and as soon as we did we headed out.

Unlike Darren, Roland did NOT live in the main wings reserved for high level family. Despite his talent and ability, he had a small single unit house in one of the villages. It took a surprising amount of time to make the trip, given all the twists and turns, but when we arrived and knocked on the door, a familiar face answered.

Delia looked EXHAUSTED. The oldest of my cousins from the succession war, Delia and Roland were close friends. I'd expected him to have a parent or something around, but given how good their relationship had seemed maybe she was his sister or something.

She gave us a wan smile when she saw us. "Shane, Callie, good to see you both. Are you here to see Roland?"

"Yeah," I said sheepishly. "We would have come sooner but-"

Snorting, she waved a hand. "Everyone's heard about the trial. You've got bigger problems. He's still unconscious anyway, so it's not like he'd have noticed. Please, come in. Can I get you something to drink?" She let us inside, and I looked around the incredibly spartan housing. Everything looked…worn. Cared for, but very well used. Couches, end tables, all of it was surprisingly low end.

My surprise must have shown in my body language, because Delia chuckled. "Roland is an atavist. You know how some Wyndham's are born without the bloodline? Well sometimes distant relatives with no real family support develop it too. A lot of them end up in the Orphan Branches. It can be hard, because when we hit D-rank and come back, most of us meet our parents, siblings, or grandparents. Roland doesn't have any close relatives in the clan."

I could almost see the story play out before my eyes. Advancing as fast as I had made me pretty uniquely lucky among Wyndhams in some ways. It got me lots of attention and appreciation. Plus I didn't hit D-rank and have to scrape out a living here among all the clan descendants. The image of Roland working his way up from D-rank, living here and barely getting by, was a rough one to swallow.

"So, you said he's unconscious?" I asked Delia, feeling like I needed to focus. "What's wrong with him?"

"They don't know," she grimaced. "Some kind of poison energy. It's lingering in the wounds. We're on the list for treatment, but healers who are strong enough to fix it are rare everywhere, especially the kind we can afford."

I frowned. "Well what about the energy? Does it give any clues to who might be responsible?"

"Not that we can tell. It's tough to say, really. This IS the WCP, and attack scrolls are always on the table. Single use wish based poisons aren't COMMON, but they're not rare either. So it's impossible to tell who the attacker was. Wish, ability, consumable scroll, it could be any of them. Whatever it is, it's nasty enough that the B-rank healer I hired couldn't do anything about it."

"Can you tell me more about what's wrong?" I asked with interest. Purification and healing were two of my strongest powers. If it was a B-rank injury, combined with my Ten Demon Tree's ability to raise the rank for a form or ability temporarily, I had a good chance at being able to clear it out. Much like Mornax, Zagan, as one of my peak forms, were basically unrivaled at the same rank.

She sighed bitterly. "Like I said, we don't really know. The wounds are infested with some kind of lightning locust poison. It's not an animal, but it's not REALLY energy. It propagates, and when the healer tried to clear it out, the faster they destroyed it the stronger it got. Roland's body seems to be keeping it in a deadlock, but any attempts to tip the balance makes it worse."

"Can I see him?" I asked carefully. "I promise I won't do anything without understanding the situation."

I could use Dantalion to examine the wound before I tried anything. While I was pretty sure Zagan would be able to handle the problem, I didn't want to make it any worse than it already was. A thorough examination was the best bet.

She stared at me, her face conflicted, but she knew I had means beyond what most people were aware of. She'd been around for the Void incursion and seen some of the stuff I'd pulled off. Plus I was the upcoming Wishmaster (probably), and that wasn't an office you snagged without being able to walk the walk.

"Alright," she finally said with a deep breath. "Follow me, he's in here." She nodded to a small wooden door in the back of the room, tucked away in a corner I might not have noticed if she hadn't mentioned it.Pushing it open, she ushered us into the room where Roland was bedridden.

He looked TERRIBLE. Pale, sweating, hollow cheeks. Like he was being eaten alive. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and a wound on his side was buzzing with yellow energy insects made of some kind of…decomposing lightning. The yellow of the bugs was a sickening color, not like sunshine or gold, but more like pus from an infection, and just seeing it made me slightly nauseous. The energy was just BLEEDING corruption and disease.

Stepping closer, I triggered Dantalion, focusing on the wound. I winced as my senses locked onto the composition, and I started to shake. One second. Two. Then I cut it off, jerking back and turning to vomit into the corner, barely opening the mouth of my mask in time.

Callie lurched forward, but I held up a hand. "I'm good," I rasped. "Just…a lot. First of all, that's a rank higher than me, second of all, the design is disturbingly optimized. The parasites are evolving second to second. Every time someone tries to get rid of them, or his body tries to fight them off, they get a little stronger. I can't trace the origins because there have already been THOUSANDS of iterations, but I can tell you based on the frankly horrifying construction, this was most likely made by a wish."

Either that or someone who had spent their whole live refining this ability. But no one with THIS much juice in B-rank would have managed to fly under the radar, not even here. The Wish power was a unique ability in that it perfectly maximized stats. It found the absolute most effective configuration of power and created a skill that could execute that.

This attack was the result of a skill like that, I could just TELL. Which was bad. Because it meant whoever the Void had active here was a bloodline holder. Theoretically, it could be a coincidence, or just someone mad with jealousy about me becoming the Wishmaster, but given the timing and the excuse they used, my assumption was that this was Void related. It was the thing that made the most sense.

"Does that mean you can't fix it?" Delia asked anxiously. "He's going to die?"

"No," I reassured her. "It just means I can't STOP fixing it once I start. And it's going to take a while. Callie, can you help me out with some deduction? Don't hit it head on like I did, just focus on point of contact. I'm going to need everything concentrated on the process."

My wife nodded, and I triggered Zagan, elevating it to B-rank with the power of my staff. Life and purifying power rolled through me, bolstering my confidence in a way I hadn't realized I needed. The corruption of the swarm of lightningrot locusts (apparently I'd deduced a name by accident) had actually tainted my consciousness, poisoning me by association just from trying to observe them.

I reached out and took Callie's hand, making sure to flood her with purifying fire before she began her deduction, keeping her safe. Leviathan would have worked better but she couldn't upkeep two forms, especially not for a delicate operation like this.

Within moments, I felt information flooding the bond, and my hand shot out, clamping down over the wound. I poured a torrent of green flames into the injury, and Roland screamed, arching up off the bed. Delia, without even being asked, stepped forward and clamped her hands down on his shoulders, pinning him to the bed so he didn't throw me off.

It was appreciated, but barely noticed because as soon as I made contact, I felt a SURGE of overwhelming disgust as the fucking parasites tried to burrow into ME even as I started burning them away. Closing my eyes, I focused on Callie's information. The locusts were alive, and they were reacting, but with the read from Dantalion, I was able to react to their reaction, directing my power to where it was most needed.

When I'd first seen Roland my eyes had been drawn straight to the wound, but looking back I realized that wasn't the only spot where I'd seen yellow. The locusts had climbed into his veins and were burrowing under his skin along the length of them. The hollowing of his flesh made the subtle writhing yellow of the veins stand out even more, but I'd been so distracted I'd missed them.

Now though, I wasn't missing anything. I was following the flame through the wound and into his veins, splitting off parallels as I diverged to keep track of everything. Callie clutched my hand tightly, directing my assault, telling me where to give ground and where to double down.

It was slow. It was agonizing. And I felt like I was burning alive myself as Zagan continuously ground out the infiltrating power of the parasites as they tried to invade my body and Callie's. One step forward, two steps back. It was a slog. Step by step, I burned away the infection, cleansing Roland's body, and the deeper I got, the harder it became. As I moved forward, they started to adapt, resisting the cleansing fire of Zagan a little longer with each locust.

Not THAT much longer, mind, and I was still eradicating them too fast for them to make up the difference. But barely. The time dragged on, my mind splitting and groaning under the pressure. But I kept it up. I'd trained for this kind of pain. It was nothing to me.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but according to my scan ring was more like five hours, the last of the infection was purged. I dropped Zagan immediately, collapsing to my knees in pain and stress from maintaining a B-rank form for that long. Even as a C-ranker with a Chronicle, that was NOT fun.

Callie caught me, but I could tell she was almost as tired as I was. "Holy shit," Delia said in awe. "Is it…did you do it?"

"Yes," I said bluntly. "Yes we did. And you're welcome." With a groan, Roland, who had been incoherent for the entire time we'd been here, say up, body shaking and skin too tight over his bones.

"Thank you," he rasped. "Thank you so much." His eyes filled with tears, and he slumped back onto the bed to cry silently. I turned away to give him privacy, and Delia pulled him into her arms for a fierce hug. And honestly, despite the strain…it felt pretty good.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Roland, to my dismay, didn't know much about what happened. "It was kind of sudden," he said fuzzily. "Like I wasn't expecting to be attacked like that so I wasn't really aware of what was happening. I know that's frustrating but I don't have any more to tell you."

I grimaced. I'd been afraid of that. "It's fine, I helped because you're a friend. I'm just glad you're ok." My face fell. "Derran wasn't so lucky."

Roland's brow furrowed. "Something happened to Darren?"

I'd actually met the two of them near the same time, and I knew they were acquainted. It was hard to break the news given the connection, but Roland deserved to know, and as Darren's first cousin, I felt like it was my responsibility to tell him so Delia didn't have to. It was hard to get through, and when I was done, Roland slumped forward, head in his hands.

"Shit," he rasped. "That's…soul destruction? Whoever did it must have been a ruthless bastard. I mean, I get wanting to prevent him from leaking information, but that's beyond the pale."

I knew how he felt. After years (which sometimes felt like decades honestly) as an Ascendant, where death wasn't the end of the line, having someone I knew just…stop like that was disconcerting. And Roland wasn't like me. He HAD been around for decades. Maybe centuries. This must be even more shocking to him.

"Look," I said slowly. "This is my fault, I think. They came after you because they knew I'd ask you to testify. If I make it clear you won't they shouldn't try again."

Roland's eyes flashed. "Did I say I wouldn't?" he snapped. "I'm no coward. You think this is my first assassination attempt? I refuse to be scared away by a near death experience. I WILL testify, and there's nothing you can say to talk me out of it."

I felt my chest tighten in gratitude. "Thanks," I said quietly. "That means a lot." I stood up, clearing my throat. "I'll leave you guys to talk. You just woke up and I'm sure you must be exhausted. Feel better, ok? And if you need anything, anything at all, you let me know. Even if I DON'T become the Wishmaster, I've got some pull with my grandfather. I can help you out if you run into trouble."

"Look at you," he snorted. "All grown up and flexing your connections like a real young master. Must feel pretty good, huh?" His grin was teasing.

"It doesn't suck," I admitted with a laugh. "We can talk tomorrow, ok? Just get some rest."

Nodding weakly, he slumped back onto the bed. Seeing him so exhausted and emaciated was almost scary. Roland was a B-ranker, and not JUST a B-ranker, probably the most combat focused B-ranker among the main bloodline holders. Roland was a swordmaster who focused almost all his wishes on collecting blade skills. His direct combat abilities were comparable to someone like Zeke before he'd broken through, and whatever had attacked him had done…this. I'd thought he was past it originally, but as soon as he finished talking he'd dropped like a puppet with its strings cut. His previous animation wasn't recovery, it was sheer stubborn willpower.

Callie and I said our goodbyes and left Delia to take care of Roland, and Zeke met us outside. He grimaced when he saw me sway a little. "That was reckless," he chastised. "I know you felt responsible and wanted to help, but that poison was no ordinary attack. Even with all your tricks you almost couldn't beat it. And it was KILLING him. Did you consider what energy on that level would do to YOU if it successfully counter invaded?"

I blinked because…no. I hadn't. I'd been so focused on saving Roland that I hadn't even hesitated. But he WAS B-rank. If I'd been seriously infected by the lightningrot locust poison I'd have been a dead man.

"He knew the risks," Callie said firmly. "And he asked for help. Worst case scenario I would have used Gossamer's gem to channel Adam. I don't believe some B-rank poison could counter the intervention of a god." Her tone brooked no argument, and she met Zeke's eyes dead on. "I'm proud of him for risking himself to help a friend, and even more proud for thinking it through enough to have backup."

He rolled his eyes. "You are a terrible influence, you know that? I swear it's his mother all over again. Teaching him to care about others and take responsibility for his actions? What kind of bleeding heart nonsense is that?"

Despite his words, his tone was wry and, if I paid attention, a little proud. Laughing, I turned to head back. While we walked though, I decided to consult an expert on the strange poisons. "So do you think it was a wish that made that poison?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation. "Ascendant powers can do almost anything, but the wish power is…sterliized. It's technically perfect, but you can always tell wish effects from normal abilities and skills for that exact reason. Everything is optimized. It's sort of soulless. The old man doesn't see an issue with that, and given how strong his bloodline is it's hard to argue it's a genuine weakness, but you can always TELL."

I hadn't ever really considered it from that perspective. Wish powers WERE exceptionally clean and optimized. Not as much as the Wish ability itself, obviously (that was where the multiplier came from, the Wish ability was perfected and could exert power beyond the sum of its parts), but I thought back to things like Benny's early Inventing Skill.

He'd always mentioned how it was so deep and perfectly complete. Of course, I knew that later on that would fade. Not only because of limitations on ranks and Wish costs, but also because technical perfection would have made it impossible to properly adapt Skills on your own once you reached intermediate. In fact, part of the reason I could integrate wished for stats so easily was because of that very effect. The sanitizing prevented me from having to deal with too much recursion, and I suspected it diluted the incoming recursion from other sources at the same time because of the mythology involved.

When we reached the suite, I said my goodbyes to Callie and Zeke and then headed for one of the reading rooms. When I entered, I was amused to find Crell hunched over the book with the charter in it. His eyes were wild, hair disheveled and he looked like he hadn't slept in months, despite having been fine when I left. "Hi…" I said slowly. "You having some problems?"

"It's fucking ENCRYPTED!" he spat, gesturing to the book. "All of it. Each letter is an encrypted LIBRARY of information. Just the short section they referenced contains about two hundred thousand books worth of content. LONG books."

"That…actually makes a lot of sense," I admitted with a sigh. "Otherwise why would people be so reticent to study it? If it was just a normal book, even with incredibly dense writing, no Ascendant would be worried about reading it all. How far into it have you gotten?" I gestured to where he sat poring over the first page.

He pointed murderously at the third sentence. "Here!" he snapped. "I'm HERE."

"Ok, yeah, that's not ideal. I think we're going to need to switch tactics." Crell had been planning to memorize the entire charter, just in case the prosecution busted out some shady legalese bullshit that wasn't referenced in the sections we'd been quoted. Unfortunately, with this news, it was basically impossible for that to happen in time for the trial, whose opening statement I had been informed upon return would be taking place TOMORROW.

So I had to cheat. Luckily, I was exceptional at that. I triggered Beelzebub, then had each of my clones trigger Dantalion. They FURTHER triggered Piece of Mind twice each, which, counting myself in Dantalion, meant FORTY of us working on the same issue. Then we all settled in and started deducing the charter.

To make sure Crell was able to actually read them, each of the clones began inscribing the information into normal books.

Crell, looking relieved, settled in and started digging through the books as my clones produced them. Without the actual DIFFICULTY of decrypting, he was free to just read the information, and considering he was a B-ranker with an exceptionally high Focus, he was finishing them almost as fast as my boys were writing them, at least individually.

Luckily for me, there were forty of us decrypting, and while the clones could only write two books at a time (one hand each), the third parallel was organizing and optimizing the process as they went, which was still enough to keep up with and far surpass Crell's reading speed.

Honestly, it felt kind of relaxing. Sure, Beelzebub took some of my soul strength, but the processing wasn't nearly as difficult as fighting the locust poison, and more than that, the longer I did it the more I optimized the process, perfecting it as Dantalion slowly sucked up more information about the book as a whole.

Book after book was stacked on the table. The original estimate of two hundred thousand volumes was based on the kind of overly condensed super compact script that most Ascendants favored for physical media. I did NOT choose to write it out like that, figuring that it would be faster to read in NORMAL font size. As such, it actually ended up being closer to five hundred thousand books.

Even with Ascendant speed and grace, it took most of the night to finish. I remembered Callie coming in at some point to bring me food, and I was pretty sure I'd fallen asleep at least once, though who knew for how long.

Finally though, I finished. With forty decryption specialists writing twenty six books at a time, I'd gotten far ahead of Crell's reading speed, and after dropping Dantalion, I couldn't help but wince at the throbbing in my head. Rather than soul strain, this was more like mind strain, and it was something I hadn't really experienced before.

I checked my scan ring. "Alright, the opening statements are tonight at six P.M. It's currently…six AM. I'm going to go sleep. I suggest you catch a few hours now and get back to reading when you wake up. You look like hell."

He slammed the book he was working on shut with a sigh. "Yeah. That might be a good idea." He took in the pile. "You can be kind of scary sometimes, you know that?"

I shrugged. "I've got some tricks. For now though, my sleeves are completely empty."

"Fair enough," he laughed. "Just get some sleep, boss. With all this transcribed you've done the hard part. Reading a few hundred thousand books won't be much of a challenge. The hardest part will be trying not to tear the pages while I'm flipping."

I laughed, because he was right. The sheer processing power of a B-ranked brain would put any low ranked supercomputer to shame. I almost laughed when I thought back to the decryption program the guild had used to crack that scan ring back on Callus during my first big caper. Dantalion made the equipment they'd used look like a tin can on a string.

After saying my goodbyes, I stood and stretched, then headed for bed. Callie was already asleep, and I just took off my armor and climbed in under the covers, drifting off to sleep. Helping Roland, helping Crell, and admittedly helping myself a bit with that second one, today had been a surprisingly good day despite everything at stake. As mind drifted off, I wondered what tomorrow would hold, and if any of those surprises would be pleasant. Despite my current optimism, I somehow doubted it, but I'd handle whatever issues arose as they came. Whatever happened, I would damned sure be ready, and that preparation was really all I could do.

 

[The_Tin_Warrior]

I've had this on my list of fics to read for a while finally got around to it over the course of November. Gotta say I regret not reading earlier lol, keep it up love the story, its been my pastime to read it before bed every night. On chapter 831 its good to see your still posting new chapters.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

After I woke up, I did my usual daily stockpiling of scrolls and then went to find Crell. He'd caught a few hours, but managed to read through a huge chunk of the charter, including the necessary sections. The fact that he hadn't managed to finish it demonstrated exactly how densely the damn thing had been encrypted.

I picked up one of the black books, opening the stone cover carelessly and flipping the thin slate pages quickly as I perused one at random. Books that could be used for this weren't exactly growing on trees, especially not so many, so I'd just decided to use Agares to construct them as I went. My clones had engraved the words onto the pages directly, which had been simple enough to manage, and then we'd stashed them back in my ring as they were finished.

Five hundred thousand books was a lot, but luckily, I had a lot of material to work with. The tunnels of rock and dirt I'd scoured in the heirworld had filled my spatial ring with nearly endless piles of materials for Agares to work with, and while I was now almost out, unfortunately, it had at least been enough for this particular task. Honestly, the books were starting to fill up my ring, but luckily the tomes themselves were MUCH smaller than the rocks I'd made them from, so I still had some space to work with.

As I flipped the pages, I studied the engravings. Dull green flames licked the insides of the carved lines, illuminating the information in the books even in darkness. Technically the fire was toxic, but I hadn't really prioritized that aspect of Agares in a long time, and it wasn't a danger to a B-ranker. Or to me for that matter. I made a mental note to hit the books with Zagan before I let any of my friends read them though, if they showed any interest.

"So, how are you feeling, you ready for this?" I asked as I slammed the book shut with a snap. The slate pages were sturdier than they looked, and while I COULD easily break them, casual handling was unlikely to do much damage.

"Ready as I can be," he shrugged. Double checking my armor, I nodded and we left the suite. I knew Zeke would be following behind, but he didn't appear or interrupt. I guess he wanted me to have some time with my lawyer. Speaking of which, I wasn't sure how this whole 'opening statement' thing even worked.

"So…what are we doing during this?" I asked as we walked towards the council chamber. "Because I already told them everything that happened. So do they want us to just repeat that or…?"

He shook his head. "Opening statements aren't about establishing facts, they're about establishing credibility. Remember, the tribunal is basing this off your suitability as a candidate, at least partly. You don't just need to prove you're innocent, you need to prove you're right for the job. Then they'll DECLARE you innocent. Whether you are or not."

"What, so it's just one big popularity contest?" I asked with not a little bit of frustration.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "You DO understand how ridiculous of a complaint that is coming from you, right? Like…any Ascendant, really, but especially you."

"Point," I admitted with a grimace. Cultivation was ALL a popularity contest. "So I just, what? Talk a big game? Make him look useless? I'm still not sure what exactly I'm supposed to be trying to accomplish here."

He chuckled. "First will be the reading of the endorsements," he clarified. "That part is…kind of a game, honestly. Basically, you state your endorsements, and then he states his. He can choose to challenge yours, and if anyone you listed chooses NOT to endorse you, it deals a huge blow to your case. Same with him. Basically, it's a game of political chicken. You can claim endorsement from anyone under the sun, but the higher up they are the more likely you get called on it."

"Then can't he just call me on every name and hope he gets lucky?" I asked with concern. Not that I was planning to use any names I wasn't sure of, I had plenty of friends even among the high rankers. But still, there was a lot of room for abuse. And if one of my sure things decided not to back me, it could seriously damage my case.

"Nope," he said with a wry grin. "Because it's meant to illustrate good judgement as well as connections. If he challenges you on an endorsement and it turns out to be reliable, HE takes as much damage to his reputation and standing in the case as you take if he catches you in a lie. Which makes every challenge as risky as calling an endorsement to begin with. Of course, you can challenge HIS endorsements too, but as the one doing the accusing, he's less likely to take the risk."

I knew that the point of this was to flex the power and connections of the potential Wishmaster, and that it was supposed to be a layup for me to set a good tone. There was a reason that no one in my position had ever lost a challenge. But I was pretty sure THIS time wouldn't go so smoothly.

We arrived at the door to the council chamber sooner than I'd have liked. I closed my eyes, calling Sammael into my body and relaxing as my wings spread behind me. I just felt more secure with all the extra power. Not that it would help if shit broke bad, but it gave me confidence, and that was no small thing in this kind of situation. Pushing the door open, we followed the catwalk we'd taken before to the platform overlooked by the towering chairs.

This time, we weren't alone. Devon stood beside me, his mother behind him with a cold, peaceful look on her face. Apparently she was his legal representative. I didn't know if that was good or bad.

On the one hand, she might curb some of his dumber stunts, but if he LOST he'd be executed via soul destruction, and there's no way she'd risk that, so she was damned motivated to win this. Joy. I faced the council. "You have been summoned," Desmond boomed. "For a matter of propriety. Your character must be entered into the record, and then you will state your case. Do you both accept the necessity of these proceedings?"

"I do," we both said in unison. Devon turned to glare at me, but I ignored him. He wasn't worth the attention at the moment. I had bigger fish.

Nodding, Desmond turned to me. "As the defendant, you may be the first to declare your endorsements. You understand the rules of this phase of the process?" I nodded, and he smiled slightly, looking pleased. "Very well, you may begin."

"I claim endorsement by Celia and Nicholas Anders, S-rankers of the Church of the Red Revenant, Elijah Wyndham and Sasha Anders-Wyndham, Ezekiel Cavendish-" I listed a bunch of people I trusted. Sebastian, Fade, Alanna, Killian, all people I knew would support me if I claimed endorsement. When I got to the end of my list, I hesitated. I didn't claim any gods. While I was reasonably sure the ones in my family would support me, they were far too unpredictable. The only god I was SURE would back me was Atlas, and I didn't even know if he counted, seeing as he was dead. But there WAS one big fish I could call on. "I claim endorsement from Morgan Lark."

Devon's head snapped over to glare at me. "Objection!" he snarled. "I challenge! You're a liar! There's no way trash like you has the Vampire's support!"

Desmond frowned, but nodded. "Challenge has been given. Satisfaction must be provided. Summon the character witness." His voice was austere and regal, as impartial and implacable as a moving glacier…and nothing happened. He turned to glare at the other councilors. "I SAID summon the character witness!"

"But like…do we have to?" Warren asked. It was only the three former Wishmasters here, and Warren was the youngest. "He really doesn't like to be disturbed. Like I'm not scared of him," he hurriedly insisted. "But also, I'm kind of scared of him. Last time someone in the WCP pissed him off was Felix. Do you remember what HAPPENED to Felix?"

"No one ever proved that was him," said Cristoph patiently. "Or even that anything happened at all."

Warren glared at him. "I heard him SCREAM. We all heard him scream. For WEEKS. He kept begging us for help!"

"Yes, but it might have been a prank. We never even found him." Cristoph dismissed.

"THAT WAS WORSE!" shouted Warren. "We looked EVERYWHERE. We used WISHES! We didn't even find a body!"

Desmond sighed. "I'll do it," he said impatiently. Standing, he reached into his robe and pulled out a scroll. Breaking the seal with his thumb, he tossed it into the air. The world pulsed as it unfurled, and I realized that this scroll was WAY stronger than one of mine. I suspected this came from an actual council member.

He muttered a few words, and the scroll in front of him sparked with purple flame and then exploded. A column of fire shot into the air, and within moments it condensed into a familiar figure.

Morgan Lark, the strongest S-ranker in the universe, the unstoppable beast of blood who had battled a young god to a standstill from below the divine threshold, stared down at the chamber.

Lark was terrifying. This was a man who could fight S-rankers ten to one, could pin down a hundred enemy combatants his own rank with his Domain, and barely break a sweat. "Desmond," he said mildly. "I was about to have breakfast. You'd better have a good reason for this."

He nodded. "Apologies, Morgan, we called you for a matter of great importance. Our fledgling Wishmaster is on trial, accused of falsifying his succession war results and colluding with the Void. He has named you as an endorsement, and has been challenged."

"Hmm?" Lark said with interest. He turned to glance at me, and I felt my blood all freeze in my veins at even a distant simulacrum of a look from him. This felt…different than last time. Whether because he wasn't holding back or because I was now powerful enough to perceive this kind of pressure, I had no idea, but this didn't feel the same as last time I'd met him.

"Hi Bethy's dad," I said cheerfully, forcing myself to wave. "Sorry to interrupt your morning."

He stared at me. Hard. For a minute. Then two. Then threw his head back and burst out laughing. "I can see Elijah in your bearing, at least a little, but the attitude is pure Nicholas. I heard you gave my baby girl her first real job? Not sure you thought that through all the way, but I appreciate the sentiment. Bethany never has anything but good stories to tell when she calls home about her adventures with you." He glanced at Desmond. "He has my endorsement. Don't call me again."

Then the flames just…went out. Desmond frowned, and I got the impression that hadn't been supposed to happen. I was pretty sure he'd thought he was going to have to dismiss the projection. I sympathized. Morgan might be less effervescent, but he was every bit as frustrating as his daughter.

Speaking of whom, I owed Bethy a thank you. Her good stories about us to her dad had probably just saved my ass. Or at least, delayed its descent into the fire. They had NOT been so fortunate for Devon, however. I turned to see my cousin's face shift to a deep crimson. Before he could speak though, Desmond just shook his head. "You have accused and been refuted. I impose upon you, the first sanction." Above Devon, a phantom image of a stamp with a familiar skull and lamp design manifested, and before my cousin could object, it slammed down, crushing him into the platform. I turned to glare at Crell, who looked just as shocked as I was. Apparently that had been covered in a LATER section of the charter. We really needed to finish that thing after this statement.