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

[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.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The first thing I did the next morning was create and distribute my scrolls. I ended up asking all fifty of the C-rankers to try to offer Creation stats. It wasn't a commonly used stat for most Ascendants, and mine was laughably far behind the rest of my stats at this point. Once that was done though, we officially split into groups, getting ready to head out on our assault.


Delilah, who was going with the other group, gathered us all up to go over our entry points before we left, just to make sure the plan was fresh in our minds.


"Alright," she said as she pointed at the diagram she'd drawn on the wall. "Here's where we'll be entering the palace. There are a total of thirty six hidden entrances. Three of them are Skartaris's personal escape passages and are under heavy observation, twenty are in common usage by various criminal organizations for trades with palace personnel, and three of them are used for moving sacrifices for the Abyssal Lords. The last ten are used by various servants and staff for event prep and other purposes, and those were the ten I suggested we break into."


She reached up and circled two of them. "Among those ten, however, four of them are basically abandoned, and are even more secure, and I've selected the two furthest from each other for our entry, to give us the best chance of a quiet infiltration.


"This one is the quarry entrance off the third district." She pointed at a spot on the hand drawn map. "It's incredibly cramped, wet, and fairly dangerous. The whole thing is halfway underwater and it's full of snakes. The snakes are all venomous, and while the venom isn't LETHAL, it's deeply painful, and they tend to swarm. I cannot describe to you how much I hate this fucking quarry."


We were all staring, and Delilah stopped, flushing slightly. "Sorry, that was inappropriate. When I was younger I lived in the third district. We would often dare each other to swim in the quarry."


I wondered if the snakes were left there on purpose to prevent kids like that from accidentally stumbling into the palace entrance. It didn't matter. I was sure we could get by them. I had tricks for dealing with beasts. "We'll take the quarry." I said decisively. "You can have the other entrance, whatever it is."


She let out a relieved breath. "The cave system off the ninth district. There are a bunch of cave bats, but otherwise the only real problem is getting lost. The whole place is basically a labyrinth. I have a map, of course, so that won't be an issue."


"Honestly, I'm kind of surprised you gave us a choice," I said as I noted her relief. "You could have just assigned the entrances directly and I'd never have known."


She shook her head. "I work for you now. And besides, we'll need all the help we can get to push through Skartaris's forces. Alienating our allies for no reason is stupid. If you'd wanted to force it I'd have just gone to the quarry. I'm relieved you didn't though. I really hate that damned place."


Laughing, I went and collected our people. Carmichae, Dezcarta, and Carmine were the only C-rankers among our twenty five that I recognized. All the really impressive ones had gone with the other group. Our group, however, had all my friends, so our D-rankers were leagues above theirs.


Dezcarta and Caladwen had shown up last night, along with their mother, a cheerful woman named Delia. She was also pretty high in D-rank, of course, and she was coming with us when we left. As was, to my surprise, the Ordinary Citizen, who had tagged along with Caladwen and her mother.


Because it would be too obvious for a giant crowd of powerful people to stroll down the road together, we all split up after getting directions, agreeing to meet back up at the quarry, but the trip was quick and effortless.


We all arrived there pretty quickly, and we gathered at the top of a small cliff overlooking what appeared to be a tiny lake or a very deep pond. "So, this is the quarry," I observed as we stared down into the chalky water. "Why would anyone dare kids to swim in this? And why would they do it?"


"What, no kids on your home planet made stupid dares?" Carmichael asked in amusement.


I paused, thinking about my childhood. Benny had dared me to do some pretty dumb shit when we were children. After a couple moments, I just shrugged. "Not that I can think of," I lied. "I guess I was just too mature for that kind of thing, even as a child."


Callie snorted, and I turned to glare at her. She averted her eyes, lips twitching as she coughed something that sounded suspiciously like "mugs", and I very graciously ignored her.


"ANYWAY," I said loudly. "How are we doing this? I assume none of us want to swim in that shit and get ambushed by a horde of pain snakes. Anyone here have a water abi-" I paused. "Wait, I think I have an idea.


I'd been planning to make a chute through the quarry and then have someone drain the water, but thinking about it, there was a much easier way. I knelt down, and a quick flare of Dantalion allowed me to get a good image of the surrounding area. Once I had it memorized, I dropped the form and activated Agares.


With a slight effort of will, the stone in front of us began to dissolve and contract. I condensed it into a much denser rock, and in the process, created a series of black glass steps leading down into the earth. They were a bit steep, because I swept down and underneath the water, and I had to focus a lot of the hard stone into the ceiling of the tunnel as I went so it didn't collapse, but it only took me about ten minutes.


When I was done, I turned to the others, gesturing to the tunnel with a flourish. "There you go. Snake free. Probably. For now. We should hurry." I held out my arm to my wife. "Shall we?"


She beamed at me. I'd felt her distress about diving into murky water in her new costume. It had enchantments to prevent stains or tearing, but I imagine even with absurd strength, swimming in a ball gown would be annoying. Hooking her arm in mine, she followed me down into the tunnel, our heels clicking on the steps as we descended.


My sister was right behind us, looking intrigued. "One of your utility forms. I have to say, this one is pretty damned useful."


I tried to remember if she'd SEEN Agares. I was surprised to realize that she probably hadn't. I'd been on Rackham when I developed it, and I didn't use it much here. The only reason it was feasible now was that all the void energy had been drained into the clouds, leaving the ground slightly more brittle than one would expect from C-ranked rock.


Glancing back, I checked how far the others were from us. It was a decent distance between my group and the C-rankers and even the other D-rankers, so I went ahead and triggered Murmur, adjusting the domain to only filter sound. "Alright, we can talk freely. Yeah, this is Agares. You guys all ready? For the assault, I mean. I'm not sure exactly what this fight is going to entail, but I doubt it'll be pleasant."


Bethy and Abel, both supremely confident, just nodded casually. Mel, to my surprise, shrugged. "I'm not…I'm starting to fall behind. The training helped, your mom is a badass, but this idiot is on a whole other level now." He hooked a thumb at her boyfriend. "I feel off balance. Might need to ask for some wish priority. I want to start hyperfocusing into Might like Jessie does with VItality."


I'd been under the impression she was ALREADY doing that, but thinking about it, I didn't really know what her stats were. "Yeah, I'm down to help." Reallocating stats like that was easy, and it paid me as much as it paid them. We entered a bend in the tunnel, and then shifted from vertical to horizontal. This section of the tunnel was flat ground, and it was a pretty casual trip. "What about the rest of you? Any easy fixes for problems?"


Dom shrugged. "I could probably use more focus on Might and Vitality. Condensing my stats like that should help refine my ability on my next rank up. Honestly, it's probably a good idea for most of us."


I nodded. He wasn't wrong. Callie and I were exceptions, because her stats were distributed across too many specialties because her legend had grown WAY too fast, and I purposefully kept mine balanced so my ability DIDN'T upgrade (among other reasons). But Jessie had seen some absurd results from the focusing she'd done.


Honestly, along the way it would have been detrimental to stack everything into one or two stats, since most of us were still figuring out our Paths and abilities. But now that we had our combat styles confirmed, it was something to think about.


Originally, most of us had more versatile abilities than Jessie, whose entire portfolio of powers was pretty much covered under Vitality. Now though, with Paths and refinement of skills and techniques, we could mostly fit our combat styles into narrowed boxes.


Extreme specialization would make the abilities we DID have incredibly overpowered for our rank, which would snowball into more renown. Jessie got almost as much renown as Callie and I, and she hadn't killed any gods. She just did one thing and did it WELL. In all honesty, while the rest of us used tricks and shortcuts, Jessie was the best traditional Ascendant in our entire group in terms of gaining renown.


We let ourselves get distracted by that during the walk, though I kept an eye out for snakes. With Murmur active, nothing could sneak up on us, and I speared a few of them with steam arrows as they tried to slither out of wall cracks.


Eventually, we took another set of stairs I'd made up and ended up in another cavern, this one entirely empty and mercifully dry. We'd bypassed the quarry. We came out at the edge of a sort of…hallway. It was still kind of a cave, but the walls were made of ancient looking brick. An extension of the old ruins, I assumed.


"Alright, look alive people," I called over my shoulder, dropping Murmur. "This area is supposed to be abandoned, but we all know how that kind of thing usually plays out."


I heard some murmurs of assent, and we slowed down, taking our time as we picked through the tunnel, listening for any signs of ambush. Happily there didn't appear to be any, and we reached the exit with a surprising lack of trouble.


The passage up was a spiral staircase, and we took it up without any suspense. The area above was pitch black, which was creepy, and Dantalion couldn't pierce it. Some side effect of the ruins, I assumed. Once we were all out, we shut the passage, and I sighed with relief. "Ok, I think we're good. I don't think they noticed us. Anyone see anything to convince you otherwise?"


"I did," whispered an urgent sounding voice from the dark. "I'm pretty sure they know we're here."


I frowned, turning toward it. I didn't recognize whoever it was, but I was here with a lot of strangers. "Why do you say that?" I murmured back, trying to puzzle out my next move if we were ambushed.


There was a scratching sound, and the green flame of a candle illuminated the room, showing a crowd of people surrounding my group. A man stood at the front, smiling cheerfully as he held the flame aloft. "Oh," he said smugly. "Just a guess."

 

[Malcolm Tent]

There were a lot of people surrounding us. Our group was a hundred and fifty people, and they had us outnumbered two or three to one, at least. I grimaced. Someone had sold us out. But the weird thing was, I didn't FEEL any danger. Even now, my Danger Sense wasn't going off. I could see the threat, but I didn't feel threatened.


Of course, I wasn't stupid enough to assume we were safe. Maybe they had a way to block my danger sense, but at the very least I felt a bit less panicked than I normally would have. Trust, but verify, as they say.


"Who are you?" I asked the man with the candle. "And why are you waiting here for us? Skartaris sent for us, we're supposed to clean a nest of Crang Beetles out of the sewers. If those things get loose, he's going to be pissed." I decided the easiest thing to do here was to lie my ass off. They probably wouldn't buy it, but it didn't hurt to try.


He raised an eyebrow at me. "What exactly is a Crang Beetle?"


I huffed in annoyance. "Gods," I glanced at Callie. "This guy, works in the palace and doesn't know what a Crang Beetle is. Can you imagine anyone being more oblivious. Crang Beetles are a tier three invasive species, Mr. Silver Spoon. They're one of the biggest worries us mere mortals have in these tunnels, and you have a rank six infestation. There's a nesting mother down here, and we'll all be ankle deep in the bastards by lunch if we don't kill it."


He stared at me, lips twitching a bit. "You know, I think I've heard of Crang Beetles." I blinked. He definitely hadn't, I'd made them up five seconds ago. He glanced around at the others. "I think it's clear these people are here to take care of a pest problem. We've obviously come to the wrong place."


The big guy next to him, a bearded man with a shaved head, shot him a confused look. "I…what? Boss, that guy is obviously lying. None of us have heard of these things, and there's no way Skartaris would hire a hundred and fifty hardened soldiers to kill bugs in our basement and not tell us."


"Oh, so he has to tell you everything he does?" The boss asked archly. "Because last I heard, he was in charge. These people are clearly here in force because the infestation is a real danger. We need to let them through. In fact, I bet they're already recognized by the wards. Not only should we not kill them, if we try it would probably backfire."


The man looked confused. Then his eyes widened. "Crell!" He roared. "What are you doing?"


Crell Preost, the Master of Ceremonies, the Legendary Skill user who could disarm people's abilities by talking them out of thinking they would work, just smiled apologetically at him. "Sorry Baldwin. Nothing personal, you understand. You're part of the problem, and I'm in the solution business."


He flicked his wrist and the man choked, clutching his throat to try to stem the flood of blood from the wound that appeared across his neck as Crell snapped the straight razor that had appeared in his hand closed.


As he spoke, roughly half of the enemy soldiers turned and laid into their companions, tearing into them with weapons, abilities, and in a few cases, bare hands.


Within moments, half of the enemies, at least a dozen of them C-rankers, lay dead. The other half had taken up a position behind Crell, standing at attention. Crell smiled winningly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a familiar stone, tossing it into the air and then catching it. "Like I said," he chuckled. "You're here to help with the pest problem, right?"


I stared at the stone. "You're THE boss. The Tower Master. The one who made the cloaks."


"Oh good," he chirped. "You aren't stupid. That'll make things so much easier. I was afraid you might be a total blockhead. I think it was that wooden expression that convinced me."


Serah, standing next to my sister, her face as impassive as ever, had been just as floored by that ridiculous comment as the rest of us. She had also been extremely amused. The taciturn angel snorted, and in a complete reversal of everything I'd seen from her up to this point, dissolved into GIGGLES.


We all stared at her, and she snorted a few more times, forcing her face back into its bland expression. "Sorry," she said flatly. "That was funny."


I rolled my eyes, then turned back to Crell. "Ok, well, I don't suppose you have ANOTHER team of powerful turncoats? Because an extra ten C-rankers and….what, a hundred D-rankers, will definitely come in handy, but it'll be kind of moot if an actual team of enemies intercepts our second group."


I wasn't relaxing my guard. The lack of Danger Sense made me lean toward trust, but it was too soon to tell. I'd also noticed he hadn't actually CONFIRMED my statement about him being the boss. He'd just sort of avoided the subject. Maybe that was a coincidence, or maybe it wasn't, but I wasn't going to be letting down my defenses until I knew for sure. I had Mornax and Sammael active, and Abomination Engine running alongside Gluttony, just in case.


Callie, meanwhile, had drawn a pair of daggers and coated them with her blue flame. They hung relaxed but ready at her sides. "Afraid not," he said with a shrug. "Sadly we'll need to invite them to our little party personally. And we'd better hurry up. Like you said, if they get taken out before we meet back up things will get much harder. I assume your exit strategy can accommodate my friends here?" He nodded to the ten new C-rankers.


"Of course," I reassured him. "It'll need to wait until we're at the exit. Can't be wasting any emergency measures in case we need them. I'm sure we can cobble together ten from everyone's stock though. None of my group have used theirs yet."


He nodded genially. "Fair enough. Shall we get going then? Time is the fire in which we burn, and all that. Chop chop, off we pop."


I stared at him tightly. Crell was FAR too casual about all this. The way he just lazily killed the guy he'd been talking to a second ago. I didn't like it. It wasn't a premonition or anything, he just rubbed me the wrong way. But sadly, sometimes you had to work with people you didn't like. He was here to help, and our chances of surviving without him were much slimmer. So I followed behind him, making sure to put myself between my friends and the tower master, just in case.


It might not have accomplished much, but it made me feel better. I would have some warning, most likely, if he turned on us, and between Mornax and my armor, I was the tankiest member of our little group, even including the C-rankers.


But my Danger Sense remained mute. I very carefully avoided bringing it up or discussing it with him at all. His power was based on persuasion, so as long as I didn't engage with him on the subject it SHOULD be fine, but I triggered Dantalion as we walked, just in case. I refused to be caught off guard in such a dangerous situation.


More than that, even once we got OUT things wouldn't be safe. This whole thing was a trap. For WHO I was still unclear on. I didn't believe my great-grandmother would let her daughter show up here if she genuinely expected anything bad to happen. She was pretty casual about life and death, but not when it came to my grandmother.


But still, SOMETHING was going to happen. I wasn't going to assume she'd foreseen all of this, but who the hell knew. Enshrining Darkness seemed to have some connection to the Abyss. Maybe she'd set all this up to trigger the void break, who knew with her?


Whatever was going on, I was assuming that it would be dangerous and crazy, since that was kind of her MO. Which meant the real risk wasn't the push to get out, but what happened AFTER we got out. The vanished gods knew we were here anyway, and we were about to steal a bunch of their best. We were jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.


I forced my mind off of that topic. It didn't matter. There was nothing we could do. The plans of gods were far out of my reach, frustrating as that was. I could only take it one step at a time.


Crell led us through the halls like he was watching live camera feeds. Twists and turns helped us avoid patrols that I only knew were there because of Dantalion, sharp turns led us into hidden passages that were invisible to even our Perception, ones not even my information gathering form picked up.


It took us twenty minutes to arrive at a large spacious hall. Our second force, Delilah and Argaunt and most of the godchildren, were being seiged down by a fucking ARMY of people in heavy robes. It was an easy aesthetic to recognize.


Crell stepped forward, ready to attack, but I held up a hand. He cocked an eyebrow but nodded, motioning for me to go ahead. Closing my eyes, I triggered Wrath.


Now, Wrath was a dangerous ability, but it was very situational. The ash from the lake of fire needed to come from the surroundings. In a place with such high tier materials, doing that weas difficult. But I was confident I could manage it for two reasons. First was that I'd been using Dantalion to analyze the composition of the stone, and second because I had a B-rank staff.


The Ten Demons Tree was heavily linked to all of my forms, and after ranking up, channeling abilities through it was much easier. It didn't make my attacks B-rank, but it did push them to a high enough level to affect the C-rank stone of the floors here.


With the ability to dissolve the rock and a thorough UNDERSTANDING of the rock from Dantalion, the speed with which Wrath hit was much higher than it had been in the past. The rock under the feet of the enemy shifted into burning ash, and they all screamed as they dropped into the incredibly fine sea of blazing dust.


Once they were fully submerged, I cancelled the attack, then staggered as I felt a wave of vertigo roll over me. Callie appeared beside me, catching me as I swayed. "Whoa there, careful." She sounded concerned, but I could hear the pride in her voice too as our forces converged on the now helpless enemy, all of them trapped in C-rank stone.


The staff simulating higher tier versions of my forms was a massively useful ability, but it was also extremely taxing. I realized with a start that Dantalion, Gluttony, and Mornax had all shut down. I was still in Sammael, but I was completely bare of any other forms at the moment. I'd have to watch that one. I noticed Crell heading towards the enemy, and I straightened up, heading to cut him off. "No." I told him bluntly.


He looked surprised. I explained. "We leave them. They're helpless and this will be over too soon for them to get free. Killing them serves no purpose."


I had long since gotten used to putting down enemies, but executing a hundred people who were literally incapable of resisting was wrong. The casual way he'd killed his Skartaris's men had bothered me, but this was his world. He had set this up and he knew what was what. There was too much going on for me to just decide he was a bad guy and call him out based on that.


This, though. This was a hard line for me. He seemed to know it too, because he stared at me hard for a minute or two, then nodded. "Alright. Then lets gather the others and find someplace more private. Now that our forces have convened, it's time for the final push. We're getting the hell out of here."

 

[Malcolm Tent]

We headed for the exit straight away after combining the groups. Once we were all together, I could see a change in Crell. His previous easygoing snark melted away, and his eyes started to shine with a feverish intensity. Anyone who could hide as deeply and work as hard for a cause as he had must be someone of supreme determination, and I could see that in him now. When his victory was at hand, he seemed almost like a sword, drawn at last to free his edge.


"I have to ask," I finally said as we walked. "How have you not been caught? I mean, I know that you leveraged Skartaris into a position where he couldn't really investigate anyone too deeply for fear of unbalancing his government, but even then, he NEVER figured you out?"


He grinned wolfishly. "Did you forget my Legendary Skill? It's good for more than just shutting off powers. Doubt is insidious, it creeps in and infects anyone who hears it. Did he suspect me? Maybe? But was I really suspicious? Wasn't Alanna a more likely candidate? Or Carmine? Even that ridiculous dragon was more suspicious than I was. So elusive and greedy. I'm the Master of Ceremonies, if there's one thing I know, it's how to put on a show."


I gaped at him. Because…that made a weird amount of sense. Even within the first few hours of asking around, he'd seemed like the likeliest suspect. Carmichael had even said as much. But in a way, that made him even LESS likely. The longer it went on, the more ridiculous it seemed that he could keep getting away with it. And with him in Skartaris's ear, not only defusing his concerns but actively shunting them onto others, he was almost uncatchable.


How much of this ridiculous power distribution system was Crell responsible for? How much doubt had he sown into Skartaris's mind about his own competence to handle it all, about his desire to do so? Had things been like this when he arrived? Or did they change over time.


No wonder he'd been able to build an organization like the Ghost Bone Tranquility Tower. In this dungeon, where C-rank was the limit, no one would be able to resist that insidious Skill.


As we walked, his expression became tighter, less gleeful. The focus was still there, but now it was starting to get more…exposed. If he'd been a drawn sword before, now he was being waved around in a threatening manner. But he wasn't threatening ME. He was just…pissed. I raised an eyebrow behind my mask. "Everything ok?"


"No," he said in frustration. "This isn't…this is too easy."


"Ok," I said slowly. "Isn't that good? We want it to be easy. You've been preparing for this for years, right? You outmaneuvered him."


He shook his head. "Not like this. Skartaris isn't stupid. Arrogant, lazy, a little petty, yes all of those things. But he isn't an idiot. Letting us group up this easily is dimwitted. It would make much more sense to ambush the groups to prevent us from gathering. Now we're together and we haven't seen ANYONE. My plans are effective, but they're not THAT effective, not unless…"


Freezing in place, I saw the blood drain from his face. "Formations," he said in a strangled whisper. I froze, then triggered Dantalion, focusing hard on the form to begin the process of deducing our surroundings.


After a minute or two of focusing, I finally caught something. "Fuck," I spat as I held up a hand, stopping everyone. I turned and looked behind us. The energy currents around us were just that. Currents. Energy sat in the air, Impact native to this world, and the natural warp and weft of that power was different everywhere. That was what formations were. Steering the power into patterns that could achieve certain effects.


But the power here was…off. I couldn't SEE a formation, mind, but I could see the power moving in ways it shouldn't. Specifically, boxing us in and subtly pushing us forward.


I informed Crell of this, and his eyes hardened. "I fucked up," he said tightly. "I missed something. I was too busy leading him around by the nose, I wasn't watching where the bastard was putting his feet."


Carmichael and Delilah both stepped in to check on the situation. They heard that last statement, and Delilah looked disturbed. "Missed something? What did you miss?"


"I missed that we aren't the only ones here with Legendary Skills," he said darkly. "Skartaris is a formation master. I thought it was just a hobby, and not one he ever seemed particularly good at. He would practice when he was bored, laying down formations in the palace, rearranging things. But it was just…nonsense. Casual bullshit he did to pass the time."


"Except it wasn't," I said slowly. "Do you think he knows it's you? That he was able to break through your Doubt?"


He nodded. "If he had proof he could have bypassed it. And formations can be used for all sorts of things. Monitoring and information gathering would be easy. Which means this is a trap. He outmaneuvered me."


"But why?" I couldn't help but ask. "Why do all…THIS? Why not just take you down when he discovered you?"


"The same reason I didn't join up until you beat Dastan," said Selvara as she joined us. "He's making an example. With the Void Children coming, this place is going to get NASTY. If he has dissenters, that'll be a prime time for them to split his forces. But if he lets all of us gather together and crushes us in front of his people?"


I winced. "He makes an example of us, massively boosts his own prestige, and he has a bunch of C-rankers at his mercy. He can choose to "pardon" some of us in exchange for a change in loyalties. He gets his forces back in line, ousts his only rival, and solidifies his grasp on power all at the same time. But the fight will be the same, won't it? How is he so sure he can win?"


"Formations," said Crell sourly. "He's been reworking the palace for years. It's his home ground. With enough preparation, a formation master can do almost anything. Suppression, amplification, even direct killing formations exist. He probably rigged up a perimeter around the exit, reinforced it to hell, and has his people laid out in the most advantageous possible way waiting for us."


"Can we push through?" My tone was urgent. "We know he's waiting for us, and I can try to study the formations…"


But even as I said it I knew that wouldn't work. Dantalion could barely map the energy here. A Legendary formation was a B-rank construct. I had zero chance of deciphering it without a LONG time working on the problem. Even that would only be possible because the actual ENERGY wasn't B-rank, just the techniques. But we didn't have weeks for me to case the place.


"What if we use the scrolls," Callie suggested. I hadn't noticed her approaching, but I nodded happily at the idea. It was easy to forget just how versatile my power was, given that I couldn't use it myself. Subconsciously, I'd long since begun to rely on my DS Mastery more than my wish power, treating the latter as a means of accruing points. Luckily, I didn't travel alone, and I had other people to pick up the slack in that department.


We had more than enough scrolls to use. Ten of them were needed for the new C-rankers that Crell had brought, but that left forty. Sadly, it took some doing to get the details we needed. Just asking for a map of the formations didn't work, because they were theoretically "secret" and the cost was a bit excessive. But we were able to work around that by going room by room. Still expensive, because the information wasn't common knowledge, but even with the extra cost it was within my price range.


Unfortunately, there were more than forty rooms in the palace, so we couldn't get all of it, but with a bit of work, Crell helped us make a map of the closest rooms to the exit, and after filling it in with formation info and doing a bit of induction, we were able to roughly determine what we would be up against.


On the plus side, I got two thousand two hundred and fifty points of Creation out of the deal, and it was well worth the time spent, even if we kept having to move as the formation slowly closed in on us.


I had originally worried that might be a problem, given the information gathering aspects of this whole thing, but Chelsea assured me after studying the formation layouts that the formations had been reconfigured to maximize entrapment and power suppression. There wasn't room for them to keep an eye on us, so we were just trapped in a slowly closing inescapable death box, not being spied on. Joy.


"Alright," my sister said as she studied the layout. "I can see a few things. These formations are complicated and VERY polished, but gaps are gaps."


Crell looked skeptical. "He made mistakes? After all that preparation?"


She shook her head. "Not exactly. Formations are the art of arranging natural energy flows to create specific effects. But the key lies in that last phrase. Specific. There's a finite amount of energy in a given area. You can supplement it, but it's rarely done with large scale formations because if the energy supplemented isn't distributed evenly across the breadth of the formation it creates holes.


"Even if the energy IS distributed evenly though, at least in a general sense, it still needs to be used." She pointed at a room. "This formation here is a fairly simple splitting array. It's a kind of subformation that splits energy flows to allow for more complex variations in construction. I don't recognize about half of these, mind, but some of them are very polished versions of things I DO understand."


She pointed at a partial formation that bled into the exit chamber. "Based on the half we can see, this is a containment formation. Containment formations, obviously, contain things. But the process of containment requires that you sacrifice lethality for durability. Otherwise it's a killing formation. Moreover, there are a lot of details that can be seen in blueprints. Where the energy flows meet, where they arranged the fulcrum for the transfer array that lets people OUT of the formation. These are all weak spots, but not really weak spots. It's just the energy is being used for something other than being strong."


"Ok," I said slowly. "So can you use the blueprints to design us a safe path through?"


"Not a chance," she said immediately. "I'm a dabbler. Having all the formation blueprints in front of me is a huge cheat, but these are way above my level. I can give you some basic formation breaking advice based on placement, but you'll need to actually apply it. And by you I mean the C-rankers, because there's no way any of us will be able to break this directly." She glanced at my staff. "Or at least not on our own."


I focused on the formation blueprint. I knew…not much, about formations. But I had some ideas for ways to apply the little I did know, especially if Chelsea helped. But she was right, we'd also need to be able to actually break through.


Turning to Carmine, Delilah, Crell, and Carmichael I cocked my head. "Well? Any of you interested in helping us overthrow a tyrant?" We'd just been planning to push through and leave, but now that it had come to this, might as well do this world a favor and take Skartaris out. I didn't even need to worry about his Impact. Without even considering my staff, we would be right next to the exit, and he was C-rank. I wondered what would happen if we pushed him through.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

We arrived at the doors to the exit chamber about forty minutes later. We kept having to move along the hallway to do our calculations because the energy flows were pushing us, but apparently Skartaris had decided to be sneaky and ended up shooting himself in the foot, because the progress was very gradual.


When we reached the entrance, Crell stopped us. "Everyone knows their places?" He asked quietly. "C-rankers up front, along with the ten strongest D-rankers, and the rest of you bringing up the rear. Invocations where you can do them, otherwise just look for ways to help.


After a nod, he stepped forward and slammed his hands into the doors, blowing them open as we all marched into…a garden.


I'd been expecting something ragged or untamed. He'd said the exit was in a courtyard, but I'd figured it would be something like the portal to the undersea city. This was just a pleasant gren meadow with water features and stones all over it. I could see fish in ponds, dizzying colorful flower arrays, and even some pleasant garden furniture, including dozens of tables with people sitting at them.


The exit itself was just a hole in reality, but rather than a jagged rent, it was a neatly cut black doorway with a well made teak frame. The frame was carved with murals of happy woodland creatures frolicking and playing, and I had to focus hard to see the enchantments in the carvings.


Next to the doorway was a small round table, a glass pane laid on top of a curlicued iron frame, with a small plate of finger sandwiches and a fragile looking teapot.


It looked like a garden party, more than anything, a bunch of fancy dressed C-rankers with ballgowns and suits and bowler hats. When we entered, a stylish young man with the kind of messy, devil may care hairdo that made it clear someone had spent at LEAST an hour styling it when he got out of bed this morning, stood and spread his arms wide.


"Crell!" said the dark haired young man brightly. "You made it! I was so worried, you were supposed to be here ages ago."


Skartaris the Weeper was…not what I was expecting. FIrstly, he was young. Like…my age physically. He had a boyish face and a wide smile, and the only reason I knew who I was looking at was the blindfold tied over his eyes, and the dark tracks tattooed down his cheeks.


His clothes were unusual, a black silk shirt and white silk tie, worn under a purple velvet waistcoat. A black bowler hat perched on his head jauntily had a single white strip of silk above the brim that matched the tie, and a white silk kerchief poked nearly out of the breast pocket of the coat, with the only other obvious accoutrement aside from a chain that I was pretty sure connected to a pocket watch being a black wood cane with an ornate silver pommel.


The head of the cane was engraved with a series of complicated diagrams and models that I recognized as completing several of the formations Chelsea had pointed out. Formation masters sometimes anchored formations to physical objects that could be moved, making it easier to manipulate the energy flows. These were called "anchors" and were complicated to deal with.


We'd figured he might have one, but had really hoped he wouldn't. It was going to make this much harder to handle.


Formations were big and terrifying, but inherently difficult to manipulate because of their scale. Anchors created a small formation inside the big formation, and manipulating the anchor manipulated that, which moved the bigger one. It was a bit like clockwork, and was extremely complicated. It reminded me a bit of witchcraft with extra steps.


Crell smiled insolently at his former boss. "Sorry, Got held up plotting your inevitable doom."


"Oh, I think my doom is extremely evitable," Skartaris chuckled. "But by all means, lay your cards out. If you haven't realized you've been outmaneuvered yet, one of us is much less intelligent than they think they are. I hope it isn't me."


Crell sighed, looking past the smiling man to the surprisingly delicate looking red haired woman sitting behind him, sipping tea daintily from a china tea cup. She was wearing a red silk tunic and leggings, and had a long sword belted to her hip. I might have ignored her, not seeing a difference to the rest of the people here, but she felt…sharp. Her aura was just different. It reminded me of the way Abel got in fights. Like his Path was leaking into the world around him. Except this wasn't bloody or gleeful. It was just sharp metal.


"Alanna," the tower master said with a sigh. "You're really taking his side? You know we can leave, right? We have a way out. If you stay, the void will come, and this place will be miserable."


She shrugged. "Can't practice cutting without vegetables. I just want to train in peace, Crell. Outside is too messy. Too many big fish looking to snap up talented Ascendants for one reason or another. That's always been your problem. You aim too high. We were kings here, why rock the boat?"


"We are NOT kings," he snapped, eyes flashing. "We are PETS. He puts us in fancy collars and feeds us better scraps, but we're still DOGS Lana. Maybe you're content to live like that, but I'm not. I never have been."


Skartaris clicked his tongue. "So this is what you really think of me, old friend? A despot. A tyrant. Someone who holds your leash?"


"Don't play the victim with me," spat Crell. "Don't forget who you confided in during your moments of weakness. Who you shared your paranoia and doubt with. How many times did you plot Alanna's murder? How close did you get to giving that order before I talked you down. Or Carmine's. Hell, or MINE. I wasn't there for those, I imagine, but knowing you it happened more than once."


The blindfolded man shrugged. "I've made mistakes. Had moments of weakness. But it was all for this. All to accomplish this goal. For all of us, Crell, not just the few I like best. Can you really justify what you're doing? Abandoning all these people you've spent years claiming to want to save?"


It was strange. With Dantalion active, and studying the area as I was, I could see the energy flows. Not just the formations, but the shift of the power in the room. The inherent Impact in the world being…moved was the wrong word. The flows didn't CHANGE the Impact. More like…stained. Like something was seeping through them, changing the color in a way I couldn't describe.


That was what I'd been seeing before. Not really moving energy, but something moving behind the energy, causing it to move in response. Like someone tracing the back of a sheet of paper with a marker, drawing designs I could see through the page.


But what was staggering was that given the detail of the energy layout in the room, I could see the subtler things against the backdrop. I could see them both fighting.


Doubt was a sort of confusing mist made of shimmers, pouring off Crell and rolling over the crowd. Skartaris, to my surprise, had something coming off him too, not directly, but seeping through the power flows nearby, shaped by the formations. Some kind of persuasion formation maybe?


The fight was already happening, Crell was trying to chip away at Skartaris's influence, undermine his position, and Skartaris was trying to steal legitimacy from the tower master, to make him seem pathetic and useless. An upstart he could magnanimously pardon if he got in line.


I didn't worry about that. I was thinking, planning, and analyzing. Dantalion was stockpiling information, collating with the blueprints and running it all through the Ten Demons Tree, tapping into the Wisdom of Solomon.


I didn't have much of that left, after Callie's upgrade, but I didn't need much. I just needed to run some permutations of possible breaks in the formations that Chelsea had proposed. She didn't have time to figure out what the responses would be, but standing in the room perceiving the energy flows myself, with a full diagram of the surrounding area and blueprints for all but the VERY center of the formations, I was basically just solving a math problem. And that, I could do.


The two of them argued, sniping and riposting, and I could see the surrounding watchers shift back and forth. As they spoke, portions of the crowd with sort of…change color, according to who they were being influenced by. It was surprisingly even, but Skartaris was slowly pushing Crell down, suppressing him with overwhelming momentum as he surrounded us with the energy he was channeling through the formation.


I watched, I waited, I calculated. And then, after about three minutes, I casually lifted a hand and pointed to one side, locking eyes with Carmichael as I did.


The big man MOVED, his whole body pivoting, twisting in on himself like a spring uncoiling, and his fist smashed out, a massive manifestation appearing above him, the illusory fist slamming into the empty air.


There was a slight cracking sound, and Skartaris staggered, and I bellowed, "NOW!" And all hell broke loose.


Argaunt drew and fired, his arrow striking empty space, while Delilah flicked her fingers, bringing shadow to life in a demonic waltz as dark forms lifted from the ground, mirror images of the guests, and launched themselves at the people who sat at the tables.


All around us, the other fifty plus C-rankers took advantage of the lull from the surprise attack to unleash hell, and Skartaris's troops rose to meet them, shedding their affable garden part disguises as they howled in depraved glee, weapons and despicable energy being unleashed towards us in a wave.


The two forces slammed into each other and cancelled out, and as they did, I triggered Limbo, keeping Dantalion active. I could see dark forms covering the battlefield, possible futures of all of our people. But unlike in the past, I'd learned more about what my forms could really do. Belial didn't just erode, it could corrupt and control, and while that would be impossible to manage on a C-ranker normally, this wasn't normal circumstances.


I triggered the ability the Ten Demons Tree had only recently developed, elevating one of my forms, and used it on Belial, even as I used it to take control of our side of the battlefield. Our people knew what I was planning so they didn't fight, and suddenly I was wielding fifty new weapons, destroying possible futures as I manipulated the battlefield like a chess board.


Skartaris had been planning the same thing, I could see PEOPLE integrated into the formations, being maneuvered by his anchor, and I cursed, whirling my staff to direct my own forces, smashing into his will through the otherworldly collision of our two distinct abilities.


Carmichael punched again, but it was intercepted by a sword image that neatly bisected the space above us, and Crell stepped up to help only to be attacked by a colossal man with a brutish face that I was pretty sure was Waylon Dreft, the Dragon Ant. Carmine jumped in to help, but I had to reposition him to counter an ice based C-ranker, and the whole fight just devolved. It got more and more chaotic, and I was barely able to keep up with Callie's help.


That was fine, I had planned this out, and I was just holding him still, getting ready to break the deadlock. My friends were building up power, working with the other D-rankers to create an invocation that would reinforce the massive combination attack we'd used in the sea. Once it was ready, the tide would shift, and I just needed to be prepared.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

It felt like it went on for eternity. The moments dragged, somehow spawning from between each other, stretching seconds into minutes. The staff was starting to flag, I'd asked too much of it too quickly. But I had to keep going, had to hold it just a bit longer.


This was the plan. It was all on Crell, really. His power was the fulcrum on which we were balancing this entire raid.


We'd talked about it while we worked on the formation diagrams, helping Chelsea sort them all out, and I'd also been analyzing it with Dantalion. He'd been right next to me, and he used it reflexively pretty frequently. Nothing crazy, but just little things, smoothing over conversation, redirecting attention. He sowed doubt like most people breathed.


But beyond that fact, I'd learned something else. Much like my Wish power, Doubt was a support ability. It depended on the person using it. How convincing, how cunning, how tricky. But most of all, it depended on momentum, on the situation, and on opportunity.


People will believe almost anything if they see it with their own eyes. That kind of bias makes conning others difficult for a lot of people, because when you can't show someone evidence, they just write anything you say off. But conversely, if someone DOES see evidence of something, even if that thing is absurd, even if it CAN'T be true, they have to believe it.


It's a factor of control. Admitting you can't trust your own senses is abandoning all control over a situation, and it's something most people can't abide. Complete surrender to the circumstances is anathema to almost anyone, but especially to the powerful.


Which was what this whole plan hinged on. Crell couldn't counter that formation. He didn't have the ability. He could lie, cheat, and scheme, he could manipulate and bamboozle. He could make people's powers outright fail if he could make them believe it, but he couldn't just point to a powerful formation that Skartaris had built himself and tell him it wouldn't work.


Part of that was knowledge. Understanding made sowing doubt easier, a little knowledge was a dangerous thing, and that could be a sort of evidence itself. But part of it was the fact that Skartaris BELIEVED in that formation. He'd poured his blood, sweat and tears into it (no pun intended), and he was sure it worked. There was no room for doubt, no space for negotiation. The formation worked, and that was a fact. I bet he'd refined and perfected it for YEARS to make sure of it.


So Crell couldn't counter the formation. Skartaris knew it. I knew it. Crell knew it. But the formation was BEING countered. Skartaris was watching it happen. He didn't know who was doing it, had no context for my ability to make it happen. He was currently fighting Crell, and his formation was being countered.


This was fact. It was proven. And he couldn't dispute it. And so he started having doubts.


It took a few minutes. Almost so long the staff's rank up charge gave out. It was subtle at first. That silvery mist that represented Crell's powers started to infiltrate my pawns. Sliding through them, over them, beginning to merge with the corruption influencing them. It subsumed and overtook my Limbo domain, and I let it. I started to pull it back, to let it recede slowly, pulling my power away an inch at a time, leaving only the doubt.


But it didn't matter. Skartaris had faltered. He'd let it creep in, and now Crell had something better than power. He had LEVERAGE.


I gasped, stumbling back, and Callie caught me, helping to steady my armored form far easily than one might expect from someone her size. That new racial trait gave her flat modifiers for her Might, and it made her MUCH stronger than she should be with her stats. It was fantastic.


Archie trilled above me. He'd been circling, pouring green flame over our people, and now he landed on me, pulsing life nova fire to recharge my flagging energy. My soul was fine, given my Chronicle, but my physical body had been overworked by all the power running through it. I'd never used Limbo like that before, not combined with the new powers I'd dug out of Belial.


I glanced up above us. In the air, shimmering behind the plane of this world, I could see the energy of the formation, slowly being infected by Doubt. It was subtle, insidious, and terrifying. I had to tip my cap to Crell, he was a scary fucking guy.


More than that, it was beginning to become static. The energy flows slowed and congealed. The deadlock was holding the formation in place, making it solid, and that was exactly what we wanted. We had one chance at this. After studying the formation structure for a half an hour, my sister had essentially confirmed that no little trick she could manage would halt this beast.


She didn't have the foundation in formations to counter a Legendary formation master. In the end, power was required. B-rank preferably, but that wasn't doable, so we needed something C-rank, but with some extra kick.


Beyond even that, we needed to pin the damned thing in place. To make it a single solid target instead of a complicated web of moving pieces. That was how we'd gotten here.


Now that we had the formation pinned, and Crell was holding it, it was time for the REAL attack to begin. I closed my eyes, knelt down, and focused on the earth. And then, I called for a Behemoth.


An arm erupted from the ground first, as big as a bus, then the shoulders, along with the head. Wings exploded from the back, spreading behind the massive armored figure like the blazing sun behind and unstoppable charge. There was a ripple, and a Domain expanded, Bethy cloaking the hardened stone of Behemoth in her power, and space warped as Abel poured his infinite blood sea into its veins, supercharging the construct.


Unlike last time, the void seemed to see a threat. Space shuddered as…something congealed behind the world where the formation was sitting. But before it could attack, Callie flexed her will and flooded the construct with her own power.


Blue black flames poured into the green glowing cracks in the black rock spitting like an azure and onyx volcano. Something about the heretic flame caused the entire thing to become more solid. We were in a strange place, an in between state where the void met the real, and the heretic flame was of both in some ways.


It wasn't just Callie though. Chelsea poured her Enshrining Darkness into the black rock, and it used the heretic flame to fuse into the stone, condensing and elevating it. The angels lent their own holy fire to the cause, and the blue black flickers in the cracks took on bronze and gold sparks.


The construct started to shake like it was going to explode. I grimaced, but there was still one more bit of power we needed. I glanced at Gabe, nodding, and he set his jaw, he held out a hand, and as he did, I put the last piece in place.


I'd had a few interesting new tricks come out of the staff. The temporary upgrade, the enhanced calculation time, but the biggest thing that had changed wasn't the effects, but the staff itself. The image of that towering tree made it clearest, because it illustrated what trees did. Trees GROW.


I whipped my hand, and my staff snapped into a spin, arcing up into the air in a parabolic whirl as it flew up and forward. As it did, it started to shift, and expand. It was a tree, and trees are big. The C-rank reincarnation tree might have only been a sapling, but my B-rank Ten Demons Tree? It was mighty.


The body of the staff expanded, shooting out as it exploded in size, and the hand of the construct caught it out of the air mid spin, fingers snapping around it like an iron vise. I pushed my will, shoving the power of Mephistopheles into the construct itself, and I felt my Chronicle shake under the pressure of so MUCH power. I could barely hold it. I felt a hand in mine, and I looked down to find Callie staring up at me determinedly.


That soul pressure lessened, and I saw pain on her face. I turned aside from that, I could feel she'd be ok, but we needed to hurry.


"NOW!" I bellowed, the breath from my lungs smashing the air like a freight train as the sheer sound of my shout blew the space in front of me apart. Gabe clenched his fist, and the power of the Adamant, of the unyielding unstoppable force, gathered on the top of my staff as I drove it forward into the formation, powered by all my rage, my frustration, my worry, and my fear.


I HATED this fucking dungeon. I hated these people, who sold their own kind to monsters, I hated having to be here because my friends were in danger, and that they'd been put in danger by me.


There was so much rage, so much power and fury locked up inside me, and I used it. I used it all. And my friends echoed it. I could feel them, their fury crying it in counterpoint to mine. They wanted out, wanted to be free, wanted to go home. All of them. We were trapped here and this THING was all that stood in our way. And there was only one thing to do when something stood in the way of freedom.


I drove the staff forward like a descending comet, all the force of all of our power packed into it, and it hit the solidified formation with the power of a fucking rampaging supernova.


My staff, B-rank and implacable, struck the frozen formation behind the air, and the energy CRACKED. There was a shudder through the whole room, Skartaris SCREAMED, clutching his head as he vomited up blood, and he staggered backward, reeling from the pain of having this massive formation shatter while he was tied into it.


Crell had been waiting. He'd been advancing slowly, getting close, using lots of feints as he attacked with a sword cane that reminded me a lot of Skartaris's (though with a hooked head). When the weeper grabbed his head, Crell didn't even flinch. He sheathed the cane, flipped it so he could catch the bottom, and calm you please, hooked Skartaris's ankle with the hook, pulling lightly.


Skartaris screamed again, this time less roaring pain and more squeak of shock, and then…he fell through the door. And he was gone.


Everything stopped. Everyone in the whole place froze, turning to stare in disbelief (and horror in some cases) at the exit doorway. Skartaris never came back. He never would. He was gone, a C-ranker without suppressing going through the void boundary. He was lost forever.


Slowly, inevitably, people started to drop their weapons. A few at first, but then more. With Skartaris gone, most of the remaining C-rankers would join Crell, and anyone still fighting would be mobbed. They all stared at him in mute terror, and then they began to fall to their knees, pressing their heads to the floor in a silent plea for mercy. Or a not silent one. A lot of them were literally pleading.


Crell twirled his cane between his fingers, strolled over to the chair Skartaris had vacated, and dropped into it casually, staring out at the rest of us smugly. "Alright lords and ladies, time to start the cleanup. We're on a schedule, but it just got a bit less tight." I just chuckled. Of course he was a sore winner. He seemed like the type. Well, he wasn't wrong. Besides, some of these C-rankers were going to have to stay behind. Maybe I'd finally found a way to help the people we were leaving in here. I was out of wishes, but I could still write contracts. Time to do some business.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The cleanup took less time than expected. Of course, that might have been partially because my head was swimming the whole time it was going on. I might have blacked out a few times. My first discovery after the end of my little rampage was that I had DRAMATICALLY underestimated the toll it would take.


Namely, the fact that my fucking Chronicle was CRACKED. I hadn't noticed it while it was happening, because the constant pressure it was under had actually held it together, but after things eased up, the cracks opened, revealing the extent of the damage.


Luckily, I could feel that it was repairing itself. Slowly. But I wouldn't be able to do much of anything for a while. Any form besides Sammael, and definitely any Domain, would be likely to make the damage worse. Callie was beside herself when she noticed, and she hovered around me like a moon, orbiting and fussing and trying to convince me to take a nap or something.


"I'm FINE, love," I reassured her again. I'd half expected her to be upset about the risk, but I hadn't done anything stupid, just necessary, so she was just panicked and not pissed. I honestly would have preferred a tongue lashing, because seeing her about to cry and not even having frustration to distract her was tearing me up. I pulled her into my arms. "We're through this, and now it's almost time to leave. We just have to finish getting the troops in order, and then we can leave."


Final count for our departing force was five hundred and fifty D-rankers and Sixty C-rankers. I was pretty sure at least forty more of the D-rankers would be ranking up when we left, so that was definitely good news, and some of the C-rankers were already looking like they would be hitting B-rank.


I still had more than a few B-rank slots to fill, and based on their Legendary Skills (which required a Chronicle) Crell and Carmichael were both looking at a rank up.


That wasn't all, either. To my shock, Alanna had decided to come with us when we left. Given her speech about how dangerous it was outside and how she planned to stay and continue getting stronger, I'd expected her to be glad to see us go. But the way we'd beaten Skartaris seemed to have wounded her pride. She was content to stay when she thought she was invincible, but seeing how deep the waters could run, I suspected her apathy felt like cowardice to her now.


We had one of the spare emergency scrolls left, so we'd passed it to her. One more B-ranker wasn't something I would turn down.


I still wasn't sure if them pushing their Skills past the cap would hurt them in the long run. It already meant that, while strong, they wouldn't be able to combine those Legendary Skills with their abilities. To form a Chronicle, your Solid Path had to be merged with your ability, and abilities couldn't surpass the current rank of the wielder. That meant all those Legendary Skills were secondary Skills, like Ragam had been for Abel back in the day.


Granted, Legendary was still B-rank, so they could just combine them after they broke through. It would just be sacrificing some of the advancement the rank up would have provided naturally for those Skills.


I shook my head. That wasn't my business. They were employees, not servants. They were free to handle their advancement however they wanted.


Groaning, I stood up, and Callie rushed over to support me, looking frantic. "I'm FINE," I repeated with a laugh. "We're safe and among friends. You don't need to worry about me. Is everyone else ready to go?"


I kept my tone light, but honestly…I was terrified. We NEEDED to go. The void break was coming, and this place would be much more dangerous once it arrived. We'd be swarmed by Void Children and might never escape. But on the other side of that door…I could feel it. Danger. Danger so intense my Danger Sense was silent. Not the good kind of silent, either. The strangled, tense kind. Like it was so scared it couldn't even muster a peep. I hadn't known that was possible.


But whatever was waiting, it wasn't on us. None of us would be able to do a damned thing to stop whatever was going to happen. We had to trust that my grandparents and my mom had made preparations for this. They knew the situation out there way better than we did anyway, and they were still fine. My grandmother also already suspected this was a trap by Raxus, so they had all the information I did.


Callie, despite my best efforts, frowned at me. "You're worried," she said bluntly. "What's wrong?"


I glanced around at the room full of people, then shook my head. I wasn't going to drop a lit grenade on the fragile order we'd managed to establish. It was why I hadn't warned any of the others. They weren't any more capable of stopping what was coming than I was, and they couldn't stay here. Knowing what was out there would just make the process of actually moving our people out harder.


Since we had the bond though, I could and did fill her in on my suspicions telepathically. Her face went pale, and I could tell how agitated she was by the news, but within moments all sign of it disappeared, like a rock into a bottomless lake. I was impressed, if I couldn't feel her emotions I'd have no idea she was so scared.


Smiling, I took her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze, and I felt her relax a notch, though not much, through the bond.


I turned to head over and check on my sister. She was sitting with Bethy, Gabe, the girls, and Dayna. "Hey, everyone doing ok? We didn't lose anyone, right?" I hadn't really been paying enough attention to the battle, given what was going on.


"A few injuries," my sister assured me. "But no one died. You and Skartaris mostly kept things contained, weirdly. The whole 'keep it deadlocked' thing saved a lot of our people. Well, except Albert. He got stabbed."


My wife gasped. "Oh no, Albert got stabbed? But he's so nice. And wasn't it just his birthday?"


Chelsea nodded sadly. "I was surprised he invited us to the party. Well, not Shane, obviously. Not after what you did."


"What?" I said in confusion. "What did I do?"


"Well don't bring it UP," Callie said in an appalled tone. "Honestly, honey, WAY too soon. You ought to be ashamed of yourself."


"What is HAPPENING right now?" I sputtered. "I don't even know this person!" They turned to walk away, and Callie shot me a wink over her shoulder. I rolled my eyes as I felt the surge of triumphant smugness through the bond, but smiled at her warmly. Trust my wife to distract me from impending doom by pranking me mercilessly. Of course, I wouldn't bring it up out loud. The last thing we needed was Bethy deciding to get back into pranking.


Shaking off my amusement, I headed over to check in with Crell, who was sitting with Carmichael and Alanna. Delilah and Carmine were there too, and to my surprise, Waylon Dreft, the dragon ant. I was curious as to why he was with them, but once I asked them about it, they filled me in on the new arrangement, asking me to arrange the contracts.


I'd been expecting Dreft to be a problem, based on the way Carmichael described him. Oddly, he'd been one of the first to switch sides when Skartaris was gone. None of the others seemed BOTHERED by that at all, so I just kind of ignored it. Especially once I found out that he wasn't coming out with us.


After the fight, there was a substantial number of C-rankers who had agreed to surrender, but aside from not knowing if we could trust them, we didn't have enough scrolls left to take them all. Instead, they were planning to stay and form a new government, with the intention of helping liberate some of the locals from the Abyssal Lords.


I'd been skeptical about that being legit, but I was informed that things like this were pretty common among Ascendants. Half the reason Dreft switched sides was because he was planning to surf the wave of renown generated by all the good press from 'liberating' the oppressed masses here. Reputation was about making an impression, and having essentially a captive audience for their heroic redemption (they were going to be blaming everything shady on Skartaris, since he was dead) would help them all hit B-rank once the void break finished and the C-rankers could leave.


After handing over one of the two remaining scrolls we had to Dreft to set up a communication avenue with the outside world, all of us were officially ready to go.


We lined up at the door, and I insisted on being first one through. I was informed that I was an idiot, and without access to my forms I was just lining up to die. Carmichael volunteered to be first through the door and everyone agreed. I was right behind him though, and after making sure everyone was ready and had triggered the suppression through their scrolls, we all stepped into the dark.


When we first came in, we'd come through a portal my grandmother made. I'd been expecting something kind of like that, but to my dismay, going through the void directly was…worse. Way worse. It was like I was drowning in frictionless slime that was somehow hot and cold at the same time. Pressure was undulating over my body irregularly, with some spots being crushed and some of my skin feeling like it was being suctioned off my body, and I was in a state of constantly shifting equilibrium that made me feel like I was inside of a rolling ball.


The moments stretched on as I hurtled through the space, and I felt the void starting to actively attempt to creep into me, but before it could make a serious effort, I was ejected into blessed normalcy.


I erputed from the doorway in a roll, barely avoiding Carmichael as I tumbled along the ground with a clatter. We were sitting on some kind of asteroid, the door perched in the middle. Weirdly, I could breathe fine, despite being obviously in space. I assumed it was some kind of enchantment.


Standing up, I coughed loudly, then turned to check on everyone else. "Alright, is everyone good?" I spluttered through my wheezes.


I head lots of grunts and saw a few thumbs ups, but only one person answered. "Personally, I'm excellent," drawled a friendly voice from behind me. I froze, then turned, and saw a man I'd never met sitting on a rock. He smiled urbanely, and I furrowed my brow as I tried to figure out who he was. I didn't know him, and he wasn't giving me any serious pressure…and that was when it clicked.


He had no presence. No Impact. Complete and total isolation like that was something I'd only ever seen from a few people. I recognized the sense of subconscious dread creeping through me though, from the last time I'd seen my great grandmother.


"What," asked Raxus, the god of deception. "No hello?" I felt the bottom go out of my stomach. This…this was bad. I'd been expecting problems, but I had figured it would take longer than THIS.


"My great-grandson doesn't need to greet you, trash," said a cool and familiar voice. I turned to see Black Sorrow standing casually next to me, smiling at Raxus with a smile that wasn't really a smile. I took a step back, positioning myself behind her. She was here to help, but I wasn't sure if this situation had just gotten worse or better. I supposed only time would tell. I just hoped my time wasn't running out.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Black Sorrow didn't look even slightly uncomfortable with her position between us and enemy god who had been expecting her. Raxus, to his credit, didn't look any more intimidated. He looked young, actually. Eighteen or nineteen, pale with sunken dark eyes and floppy hair. Very delicate. He looked like a really morose poet. In comparison, my great grandmother's razor sharp features made her seem like an evil princess. Noble and malicious.


"Black Sorrow," said the god of deception. "We meet at last. How lovely. I was expecting this particular encounter to come later in the war. I was under the impression you didn't like this particular spawn."


She snorted. "I like him better than most, but it wouldn't matter if I wanted his head on a platter. That's family. I'm allowed to make things hard for the brat, but heretic garbage like you isn't permitted to lay a hand on my blood. If you think your little doublespeak trick is enough to keep me from bouncing you off every planet in this cluster, you're even better at lying to yourself than you are at conning gullible kids."


Raxus shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. I think you might be a bit less prepared than expected. I know how dangerous you are, given your foundation. It doesn't do to underestimate one's enemy."


With a smile, he flicked his fingers, and the world…changed. Space around us warped, and reality rewrote itself. From the asteroid, we were suddenly transported to an endless city. Buildings pierced the skies around us, spreading out into the horizon like endless waves of steel and concrete grain on a planet of rolling wheat fields.


It wasn't just us, either. I was disturbed to see my grandparents, my mother, and the crew of the Acheron alongside us, having appeared from nowhere. I looked around, trying to glean something, and I got…nothing.


Bethy's Domain was a Domain, it was a world, but it was small, and it was made up of Impact in a way that was…not obvious, unless you had something to compare it to, but still notable. Domains were their own things, pocket dimensions. But this…this wasn't a pocket dimension. This was a world. A real honest to gods reality.


Black sorrow snorted, and her eyes narrowed slightly. There was an explosion of darkness, and then jagged canyons of dark stone tore their way through the space around us, replacing the city. Around the edges, I could still see the previous Domain trying to push in, but sure enough, it was stopping cold.


Raxus frowned. "You already have the inkstone," he said in annoyance. "This is stronger than your Domain is supposed to be."


My grandmother stepped up next to Black Sorrow. "Mom, what the hell is going on here?" She hissed. "Where are we, and what is happening? Are we INSIDE his world? Do we need to worry about being attacked by his supplicants?"


The goddess shook her head. "Nothing that overt. Think of it like a divine shallowing. He's breached the surface of this reality, but only with a tiny intersecting territory. The majority of his world is still in the void, and he'll keep it there unless he's an idiot. Trying to surface a world this close to a void break would be mindnumbingly stupid."


He sighed. "Alas, you aren't wrong. But luckily, I'm hardly the only one here to deal with you. Don't forget, while being in realspace does give your world an advantage, it's also a limitation. We're nowhere near your territory, so you're manifesting your Domain through yourself just like I am. Or rather, like WE are."


With a smirk, he snapped his fingers, and a pair of figures appeared beside him. One was…well, old. Like, the oldest ascendant I'd ever seen. His face was so wrinkled that it was hard to make out the shape of his skull. He looked like one of those dogs with the scrunched up faces. His eyes were a malevolent red, burning in his sockets like bloody flames, no sclera or iris or pupil, just crimson fire.


From the neck down, he was almost disturbingly muscular, muscles bulging so overtly it seemed like they might split the skin, and his chest was bare, his collar of wired bones on black iron the only adornment except for the long robe bottoms that looked like they MIGHT have been sewn from human skin.


The other one was just terrifying. He was a colossal being, ten feet tall easy, and his whole body was wrapped in a long heavy cloak. Under the fabric, I could hear whirring and hissing. I wasn't sure about the first guy, but the second was obvious. Stralthrem, god of dread fabrication.


My great grandmother sneered at the buff old guy. "Hatescream, how positively despicable to see you. Carrying water for the babies now, I take it. Well, fair enough. It's not like you're much of a threat on your own. Tell me, do they let you kill the small fries to feel useful, or do you just get in the final blow after they're done with the real work."


The old man snarled at her. "Vicious little bitch! Should have put you down when you first acquired Strakkenthar's legacy. Pretentious fool never could keep track of his things."


"Watch your mouth, old man," rumbled a new voice. We all turned to see a tall young man with bright red hair and red irises step from seemingly nowhere. "That's my wife you're talking about. She might be a nightmare, but she's MY nightmare." My eyes widened as I saw the newcomer. Not just him, but the people WITH him. One of whom was Morgan fucking LARK.


And judging by the power I was sensing off them, there were SEVERAL S-rankers. My grandfather nodded to a tall dark skinned man with a blindfold on, and the man nodded back with a small smile.


Raxus snorted. "Two of you. Interesting. I'm surprised. We arranged a few nasty surprises for you all to coincide with this little incursion. You must be losing quite a bit of territory, coming here like this. It's so nice to have friends, don't you think? The Void Children hate you simpering cowards as much as we do."


The red haired man, who I was beyond certain was the Red Revenant himself, my great grandfather, who I was meeting for the first time, just smiled. "We borrowed a few legions from the Empire. I'd worry more about your own business than ours. This doesn't bode well for you three."


Hatescream let out a mocking laugh. "Three on two? You might be stronger here, but we're older, and much more experienced. Not to mention we've been preparing for this little encounter for quite some time."


"If that's true, then you should be as aware as we are that this isn't the place," my grandmother said. "Any serious divine combat here would shatter the void shallow. Mixing up the void during such a complex process would cause untold damages to everyone involved. It might not do much to you, but some of your adherents could die. I think we should move this a little deeper into the system."


Black Sorrow beamed. "That's a wonderful idea, Celia. You're such a sensible girl." She sneered at the revenant. "YOU didn't think of that, did you Samuel?" She waved a hand and we vanished, appearing on what looked to be some kind of moon…somewhere else. Happily alone.


"I JUST got here," he groaned. "Literally less than a minute ago. Can I have a second to process before I start making plans? What happened to keeping family business in the family? We're supposed to be on the same team here."


My grandmother groaned. "Enough, mom. Dad is here to help, be nice."


"Thank you," said my great grandfather graciously. "And you must be Shane." He finally turned to smile at me. "I regret that our meeting has to be under such tense circumstances, but my grandaughter raves about you so much I feel like I already know you. I hope we can talk more after this battle."


I nodded solemnly. "I'd like that. I've always been a little curious about you."


"This is all very heartwarming," Black Sorrow said with a groan. "But we have gods to fight. And while Shane's little army is very cute, it's not even remotely relevant here. Nor is the layabout my daughter married. Celia herself is too young to be placed in a fight this dangerous, and we couldn't get any more gods. Among those three behind you, the Vampire might be useful, and your sword whelp has some talent, but I don't see how the third one will be useful."


The third man she mentioned, a tall refined looking noble with a well groomed black beard and blue eyes, bowed deeply. "Your Holiness, I am Schrader Elston Raleigh Von Drexel, first prince of the Imperial Family. Among my people, I am known as the Iron King. One of the legions his holiness mentioned is within my Domain, and my personal ability lends itself to the use of their power. In combination with the forces we have arrayed, I believe that I might be able to aid in this offensive."


My great grandmother squinted at him for a second. "I don't like you. You irritate me. Switch spots with the vampire, you're standing to close to me."


The Red Revenant, or Samuel as Black Sorrow had called him, pinched the bridge of his nose. "Really Alli? You can't be nice to our allies for five minutes? Schrader was kind enough to volunteer to assist us with what might be a suicide mission, and this is how you repay him?" He paused, then cleared his throat and said. "Not that we expect you to die. I'm sure you'll be fine. This is perfectly safe."


Schrader looked decidedly unconvinced, and glanced nervously between the other two. Black Sorrow sighed. "You're such a hypocrite, Sam. Always acting so polite to everyone when you're just as arrogant as I am."


"Yes, that's called 'manners'," he said dryly. "Regardless, we only need them to hold the machine god for a time." He glanced at my grandmother. "Celia, did you bring it?"


She nodded, then flicked her fingers, and something very familiar appeared. A scythe. She'd been holding it for Callie, and when she saw me looking, she smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, dear. Mother is just borrowing it. In fact, that was always part of the plan. There are ways to divine information such as the owner and possessor of items. Otherwise they'd never have shown up."


Black Sorrow plucked the scythe from her fingers, whirling it around herself fluidly in a way that told me she'd had plenty of practice. Then she glanced at the Red Revenant. "I despise you." Her tone was hard, but her eyes looked a little sad.


He smiled sadly. "I know. But this is about protecting our family." He held out a hand. "Dance with me?"


She broke out into a radiant smile, setting her hand in his. "I thought you'd never ask."


He pulled her in, whirling her in a circle, and the two of them sort of…exploded. Darkness and flames bursting outward and mixing together, sweeping up the three S-rankers together. Before us, out in the blackness of space above the moon, a world bloomed. A black world of dark stone canyons with volcanic rivers running through it, and all of our people appeared in it, standing in the caldera of a volcano. Around us, the world shifted slightly as my grandparents manifested their domains, black power and white flame becoming a small sea of stars more exquisite than the real one we stood in, wrapping around us and protecting us.


"Watch this closely, Shane," my mother said as she put a hand on my shoulder, and the other on Chelsea's. "I have a feeling we're about to see something that no one has witnessed in a very long time. This is what a god war really looks like." I watched intently. Because she was right, and I planned to learn everything I could. One day this would be me.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Seeing my great grandparents together among those black volcanic mountains was…odd. The two of them were so innocuous. Young and relaxed and elegant, standing beside each other like a couple from some royal portrait. "They remind me of Shane and Callie," my sister said quietly. "I've never seen great-grandpa look so…young. He's usually got this ageless quality about him, like he could be a million years old."


My grandmother chuckled. "They bring out the best and the worst in each other. Their relationship has been complicated for a long time. When you build your whole world around another person, anything that goes wrong taints the way you feel about them. My parents were obsessed with each other when they were coming up, and that hasn't changed much. The form of that obsession is just different."


"I'm not so sure it is," my grandfather said dryly. "Master looks as agitated as I've ever seen him."


"She's his wife," my grandmother said with a soft smile. "What would you do if someone was plotting MY death? My mother can be cold, sometimes even cruel, but she takes care of her own. It's why he still loves her. Now watch, because this is going to get intense."


We shut up, focusing on the couple and the three men behind them. They were standing on a volcanic plateau, waiting, and within moments, three more people appeared across from them. The vanished gods. Raxus raised an eyebrow at the scythe. "You brought it with you?" He said in amusement. "Awfully confident in yourself, aren't you? I have to say, I don't like your chances. I've heard the rumors about your little pet monster," he smirked at Lark. "But an S-ranker can't do battle with a deity. Not a proper one."


Lark cracked his neck. "That one," he said lightly. "I want that one."


My great-grandmother grinned. "I suppose I'll take the old timer. Pigsticker, tin soldier, you're with the leech. Handle that brat for us while we deal with the real threats." She smirked at Raxus. "I look forward to seeing your acting skills in action. I suspect you're about to do a real convincing impression of someone getting their ass kicked."


Raxus sneered at her. "Bitch, I'll-" we didn't get to hear what he was going to do, because before he finished speaking, Lark dissolved into a torrent of mist, exploding outward into a tide of fog that blotted out the stars around them. Raxus's expression got serious, and he stomped his foot, that city world expanding around him, forcing back the volcanic mountains.


It didn't push them far. Only about a mile of city managed to interject itself into the divine world, suppressed by the combined force of two gods.


The fog flooded the city, wrapping around the buildings. My grandfather flicked his fingers, and a wall of white flame rose up between us and the scene in front of us. Then he snapped his fingers and it resolved into a crystal clear image, split into two separate viewpoints.


He grinned. "I purified the viewing experience. Should make it easier to keep track."


Sure enough, each image followed one of our groups. My great grandparents had advanced, shifting their world so that the city battlefield where Lark confronted Raxus was shunted off to the side, leaving the two gods time to work. Hatescream bellowed in rage, slashing open his palm and collecting the blood before hurling it out onto the rock.


The world began to corrode, the blood eating its way through the dark stone, and as it did, Stralthrem raised his hands and a tide of automatons erupted from the melting muck, condensing from red metallic material. The combination seemed to enhance the automatons, and while I couldn't really tell what they were exactly, I was pretty sure they were all at least high S-rank.


My great grandmother smirked, then offered her hand daintily. The Red Revenant took Black Sorrows hand in his, then he spun her, and the WORLD moved.


I'd seen people fight quickly before. Seen them move with ghostly precision, or unnatural grace. I'd seen spatial manipulation, and teleportation, and super speed. But I'd never seen anything like what I watched when those two fought together. As the two of them moved, it was like they were standing totally still, but whenever one of them took a step or pushed off, the world around them slid by like someone was scrolling across a screen.


One second they were there, the next he was twirling her among the army of machines, and the scythe moved along the outside of her spin, cutting through the metallic monsters like they were the wheat it had been designed to bisect.


A whirling, trotting, dizzying tempo, the two of them danced, standing in place and cutting a rug as reality was torn to pieces in their orbit. Under their feet, a riot of red black flames erupted with each step, darkness and light intertwining and roaring as it consumed everything they left behind.


It HURT to look at, and I was forced to drag my eyes to the other one, where Raxus was NOT having a good time. The city was overrun, legions climbing the buildings and herding the god across the face of his own world. He flicked his fingers, shifting the buildings, trying to confuse and divert them, but he was a bit distracted dodging the colossal waves of gentle looking white cutting force that bisected huge swathes of city.


My grandparents had their complex world, Lark was using his mist, and Shrader had an army to bring to bear, but the Moonlight Pope didn't bother with any of that. One sword, one victory. I was in awe of just how sharp those blade lights were, and I realized after a few glances that I was blinking back tears of what I soon figured out was BLOOD, because the literal sight of those slashes was cutting into my eyes.


I learned to avoid looking at them head on, and my eyes healed, probably protected by the purification of the screen mostly, but damn if that wasn't terrifying.


Raxus looked livid, but between the ultimate swordsman, the endless waves of soldiers in perfect formations, and Lark enshrouding him and confusing his senses, the god of deception had no chance to turn things around.


Meanwhile Stralthrem and Hatescream had abandoned their wave tactics and engaged my great grandparents directly. They tried to encircle them, with Hatescream manifesting a pair of crimson hand axes from his own blood and Stralthrem throwing back his cloak to reveal arms replete with massive buzzing energy cannons.


Blast of ethereal force rained down on the waltzing couple, unable to even singe the corners of their clothes, as Hatescream tried to both dodge and attack. The scythe bit through his axes, not quite severing them in one shot, but managing to take them out on the second swing every time, and the older god was forced to bleed himself even more deeply to replenish them. Stralthrem and Hatescream were being pushed back, but I didn't get the impression they were in much ACTUAL danger. I didn't think any of the gods were.


That scythe looked like it might be able to kill one of them if wielded properly, but if so, it wasn't being wielded like that now. None of the cuts were causing much damage. Even as I had the thought, my great grandmother released her husband's hand, spinning out away from him in a pirouette, and raised the scythe above her head. There was a pulse of dark energy and the enshrining darkness infused the blade. Above her, the scythe manifested in the form of a giant image, on the back of the jagged, menacing blade, a skull opened its mouth and screamed, darkness erupting from its eyes and from between its teeth.


Stralthrem and Hatescream didn't even hesitate, they got the fuck out of dodge, backing off immediately. Their worlds exploded out, shoving back the combined worlds my grandparents had manifested and breaking free to speed over to an empty section of space, staring back at them worriedly.


The scythe was dangerous, but it was also slow. They looked wary but not concerned enough to actually escape. Sadly for the group, they were worrying about the wrong thing.


As soon as they broke free, the volcanic world condensed, smashing down until it was only a small ring of very condensed territory surrounding the city. The city world, meanwhile, was squeezed like it was in the grip of an invisible fist. Raxus, who had been trying to avoid getting cut by the Moonlight Pope, stopped and looked up at the scythe that was now hovering over HIM, still gathering power.


"Now!" My great grandmother cackled maliciously. In the fog around Raxus, a hand appeared, and in it was something I hadn't seen for a few months. The ink stone. Lark's disembodied hand clenched down, and the inkstone shattered, exploding into a tide of dark dust that dyed the fog surrounding it pitch black. The fog swirled and condensed, sublimating as it did, going from diffuse mist to sleek black chains that looked like they were made of liquid darkness. Raxus's eyes went wide with terror. "NO! STOP! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"


"To paraphrase my dolt of a husband," Black Sorrow trilled gleefully. "RUBRUM GLORIA!" And she swung the scythe.


The massive image of the scythe fell like a headsmans axe, shearing through space and bisecting the city world on its path to gently scooping the head off the deceptive god being chained down by the combined suppression of a dead god's object of power and the strong S-ranker in the universe.


Raxus's head rolled off his shoulders, thumping to the street, and the city projection shattered. I wasn't sure if the god world was gone, or if the extension of it into realspace had just been cut off (though I suspected the latter), but it vanished. I turned to look, but sure enough, Hatescream and Stralthrem were gone. I blinked in shock, staring at my grandparents and mother. "Did…did you know that was going to happen?"


They all shook their head. My grandmother shrugged. "My mother doesn't like being plotted against. I wasn't expecting the method, but I'm not surprised she prioritized Raxus. She can be somewhat petty."


"Now that's no way to talk about your beloved mommy," came a poisonously sweet voice. Black Sorrow and the Red Revenant appeared behind us, both of them looking neat and orderly. "But I'll forgive you because you did such a good job protecting the kids and showing them our victory."


"I did that," protested my grandfather.


She scoffed at him. "You're inconsequential. I consider your actions to be proof of my daughter's delegation skills."


Pinching the bridge of her nose, my grandmother sighed. "Mother, please be polite to my husband. It'll be much easier for to visit if you aren't constantly belittling and threatening him. Not to mention we're all on the same side."


Black Sorrow nodded solemnly. "You're right of course, darling. Even trash like him deserves common decency. I'll do my best to be polite for your sake, regardless of what a disappointing waste of space he is." She turned to look at my grandfather with a serious expression. "Good job…you."


He blinked at her. "Do you…do you not know my NAME?"


"Of course I do," she snapped imperiously. "It's…Dan. Wait, Michael. I know it starts with a vowel."


"Neither of those names start with vowels," I pointed out helpfully. "Now, how about to celebrate the execution of a GOD, we all head to Rackham to get something to eat. We need to drop the others off, and it's close by. We can all finally share a meal as a family, assuming the great grandparents can stand to be around each other that long."


Black Sorrow sighed. "I suppose. I'm in a good mood after snuffing out that pathological liar, so I can magnanimously grace you all with my presence."


Bethy perked up, "Wait, there's going to be presents?"


The goddess glanced at her assessingly before nodding. "I like you," she looked at us. "I like her." We all shuddered as we heard the most terrifying statement we'd ever been privy to. That couldn't possibly bode well.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Our trip to Rackham wasn't immediate. I'd neglected one very important thing during the god fight. Namely, the breakthroughs. All these people had come out of a dungeon, and most were locked at a specific rank because of circumstances. C-rankers couldn't leave at all, and D-rankers couldn't leave if they ranked up.


My wish power had changed the game for the C-rankers, temporarily suppressing them, but the suppression had worn off by the time the fight was over, and they were ready to break through. Crell, Carmichael, and Alanna were all at Legendary with a skill, which required a Chronicle. It did NOT require a Chronicle condensed from that skill, or it wouldn't have been possible for them to GET to Legendary, but it gave them the foundation they needed.


One, two, three B-rankers breaking through. Carmine and Delilah weren't QUITE there yet, but they were on track, and at least three of my other C-rankers were most likely going to be able to reach the threshold within a few months.


Which was to say, my ten B-rank slots were officially full even if I didn't manage to recruit anyone from Dom's clan.


On top of that, eighty of my D-rankers had broken through, way more than expected, taking me from sixty to one hundred and forty, with some more looking to make the jump before we made the trip to the competition.


"This was a surprisingly productive trip," I told my mother as we sat together on the way back. "We broke off our search for people to help my friends and ended up finding them anyway." She'd dragged me away to check me over for injuries then hugged me for ten straight minutes after the battle ended. Apparently Rackham had worried her much less than this divine bullshit. Which was fair, given the stakes.


She shrugged. "That's how it works sometimes. Recursion is weird. Sometimes it gives you exactly what you need, and other times…" she grimaced. "That void shallow is a mess. It still needs to be cleaned up. We left Schrader behind to coordinate the imperial response, because this is on the edge of Empire space. But don't think this is over. The void have entered the war. We got rid of one of the vanished gods, and now we have a whole new swarm of enemies."


I hummed to myself. "What if we didn't?" I asked slowly. "Or, like, we do, obviously. But what if we had two less?" I told her about the Lady and Verdyn. "If we can convert them to allies, we would deal a solid blow to the enemy forces, cutting them in half, at least if you count Raxus being gone."


"That won't work," she said bluntly. "It's a nice thought, but I told you why the gods only allow six. Too many deities will influence the Impact of the universe. It'll elevate us all into a higher realm, and we aren't ready for it."


"But that's realspace, right?" I said quickly. "The void doesn't count, that's where they've been the whole time. If they stay in the void not only would it not compromise reality, but we'd have a pair of combatants already over there. You mentioned their worlds were in the void, and those manifestation domains were just slight protrusions into our world. Our gods were beating theirs because this is their home ground. So wouldn't the void be THEIR home ground?"


She paused, thinking it through. "It's not impossible," she admitted. "I can try to talk to my mother, but you need to understand that this isn't something my parents can decide. This is god business, which means you need the deities to weigh in. Most of them won't even MEET with mortals. My grandmother lives by her own rules, and my grandfather came to help because we really needed it, but don't mistake meeting with gods for a daily occurrence.


"Not to mention that we would need an emissary that they would trust. And since other gods can't go into the void easily, it would need to be someone important, but not strong enough to be seen as a threat." Her tone was absent, more like she was turning it over in her head than trying to actively deny me.


But I latched onto that last part. "Someone like…the current Wishmaster?"


"No!" she snapped, eyes widening as her gaze snapped to mine. "Under no circumstances Shane. That's out of the question. Forget that you might not win this succession war at all, forget the the Wishmaster is still beholden to the council, and forget that the void is far too dangerous for the WCP to let you risk it, I won't allow my child to run off into the darkness beyond reality to try to make FRIENDS with evil gods."


I raised an eyebrow at her. "Are we really throwing around the E word in present company?"


She coughed. "My grandmother is…complicated. But she helped us this time. And you seem to be growing on her."


"Not as much as Bethy," I said, pointing across the deck of the Acheron to where Black Sorrow was currently BRAIDING Bethy's hair as the vampire girl chattered amiably to a bunch of stupefied C-rankers.


"Yes, that's concerning," she admitted. "I'm trying not to think about it. Morgan does not look happy." Sure enough, the Vampire himself was glaring at the pair of them, looking like he wanted to storm over and yank her away. But…he didn't. His eyes were oddly sad, and he eventually sighed and looked away. It made me think about the story Bethy had told in the dungeon. I wondered if Morgan felt quite as positive about that experience as he came across from her point of view. Somehow I didn't think so.


I sighed and shook my head to clear it. "Look, no use talking about it now. We need to win the succession war for it to matter, apparently." Another reason for me to put my all into becoming the next Wishmaster. "We still have what, four months left? Do we need to start heading over?"


My mother sighed and nodded. "I heard from your father. He's making his way there personally, and will be meeting us when we arrive. It's actually a bit more than four months, but we've been travelling in the opposite direction from the Heirworld. If we want to make it in time, we should start the journey soon. We have a few days, or even weeks if we push, but after the banquet with my grandparents we should leave."


I locked onto a specific word she used. "What exactly is an Heirworld? I keep hearing about the succession war, but how does it work? What exactly IS the succession war? How do we decide who takes the top spot? Is it just a death battle?"


"Not death," she said with a shake of her head. "Conquest. I was actually on your father's team during his attempt, so I know more about than most. But not as much as some."


"She means me," Zeke said as he dropped into a chair next to us. "But yeah, we're on the way now, so I guess it's finally time to fill you in. I've been avoiding bringing it up, given how crazy things have been. Didn't want to distract you."


I chuckled at that. "I guess I can understand that. But I think it's time to finally catch me up."


"It's said, by and large, that the WCP is a floating faction." He said, having taken a moment to consider his words. "This is mostly true. But we DO have at least one dedicated planet. Of course, it's not EXACTLY WCP territory. We don't interfere with anything that happens there, in order to keep the testing conditions pristine. But the majority of the forces there reflect the WCP branches and factions anyway. That would be the Heirworld."


My mother nodded. "The Heirworld is a planet specifically terraformed for the succession war. It's existed as long as the Wish Curse Palace, having been established by the first Wishmaster personally."


"So it's some kind of homeworld?" I asked worriedly. "Like a spot for all the elites to gather?"


Zeke snorted. "I suppose you could phrase it that way. But I wouldn't. Don't forget the Wishmaster is a god. He has his own world, even if it isn't a physical home planet. No, the Heirworld isn't a training camp. It's a prison. The worst of the worst end up there. Anyone too brutal for the WCP, and that's a high bar, gets tossed on the Heirworld. It's left to fester and rot between competitions, but when the succession war rolls around, that's when that place really heats up."


"Why?" I didn't see why they would participate if they were imprisoned. Wouldn't they want to kill as many of us as possible?


"Because the people following the top candidate get to LEAVE," he said grimly. "It's a once in a lifetime chance, and you have to back the right horse. Once you commit to a backer, you're stuck with them. So the wars get nasty, because the local factions will do anything to force their candidate to the top of the heap. Not to mention old grudges can flare up, because a lot of the old factions from the last succession war are still around."


"I'm still stuck on the prison thing," I said dazedly. "This is a whole planet full of people the WCP thought were too hardcore to leave running around? Why would I let any of them out?"


Zeke shrugged. "Not exactly. Lots of the reasons people end up there are political. I've told you before, the WCP doesn't DO morality. There are a couple of real monsters lurking down there, granted, but none of them are S-rank or higher. Plus you can request information on locals through your branch if necessary."


"My branch?" I asked. "Like…through my dad's dad? Because I don't even know him."


"You will," he assured me. "Trust me. Malachai won't miss the succession war. None of the branch heads will. The whole council will be in attendance. They'll be watching from a space station in orbit over the Heirworld." He grinned at me. "Hope you're excited, kid. You're finally going to meet the other side of the family."


My mother grimaced. "I'd prefer he didn't. Malachai is a cold hearted bastard. I have no idea how Eli turned out as well as he did." I gaped at her in disbelief, and she smiled bitterly. "Yes, he's THAT bad."


"Malachai isn't so bad," Zeke said wryly. "He's not NICE, but he cares about his kids. He always took care of Eli and his brother and sister."


"Out of guilt," my mother pointed out. "Because he left their mother and got remarried for political reasons and had ten OTHER kids." I knew about that, actually. Nat had told me. Her mother Allison was my dad's full sister, and he had a brother named Felix. His half siblings I was much less clear on.


Zeke didn't seem to have an argument for that, just shrugging again. Meanwhile, I was fixated on everything I had learned. The succession war was finally here, or would be soon enough, and now I had another reason I had to win. If I could pull it off, not only would I be able to grow fast enough to help my friends survive the coming storm, but I might be able to use my influence to save the Lady and get us an ally all in one fell swoop.


Maybe that was beyond my pay grade, but for some reason, I was convinced it would be necessary. The Void had come into play in a big way, but I somehow got the impression this was just beginning. The god war wasn't the real disaster, it was just the opening salvo, and my fate sense was screaming at me that things would only get worse.


I'd go to the banquet, meet my great grandfather properly, and spend a bit of time with my friends, but once I left, I was going to buckle down and do some serious training. Once the story of this most recent adventure got out, I should be raking in the points, and if I was lucky I'd make it to at least halfway to C-rank before arrival. I'd need every advantage I could get.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Arriving back on Rackham was surprisingly nostalgic. Not just because we'd brought my friends home safe, but because after the dark and despair filled dungeon, the gentle forests of Rackham were practically paradise.


"We're back!" Shouted Ray in relief, hurling himself off the shuttle to literally kiss the grass. "I'm so happy to be home."


Elena chuckled as she jumped down. "You'd think you were the one with a kid here. You're not even from this planet, what are you so excited about?" Despite her words, her tone was every bit as fond and exasperated as I'd expected from her. Elena was everyone's big sister, and she seemed to have bonded with the others while they were imprisoned.


We'd settled in at a large inn located in the capital, and my mother had rented the place out for the banquet, dropping more money that I'd seen in my life arranging seating and food for everyone. With hundreds of people here, it was a tight squeeze even in the biggest banquet hall, and she'd paid extra for the best chefs.


"So, Shane," my great grandfather said as he sat beside me. "Tell me about yourself? I've heard plenty of stories, but as we all know, legends so rarely tell the whole tale. Not to mention some of the sources were…prone to exaggeration."


Black Sorrow slammed her hands down on the table, glaring at him ferociously. "Was that a shot at me? You want to die hypocrite? I already killed one god today, I'll do it again!'


"Mother!" my grandmother snapped reproachfully. "You promised you'd be civil for this dinner!"


Black Sorrow sputtered. "He's clearly baiting me! You all saw it! Look at his smug fucking face!" She pointed at the Red Revenant, who stared back at her with an innocently puzzled expression so flawless it had to be fake.


Celia rolled her eyes. "You stop it too, dad. Honestly, do you have to wind her up every time you see her?"


He smiled modestly. "It's a gift," he winked at the goddess. "Besides, she's cute when she's angry." Black Sorrow snorted, looking away sulkily, but I could have sworn I saw her lips twitch. Seeing the complete lack of sympathy from his daughter, he sighed. "Fine, I'll be nice too. I was being sincere with my question though, I want to know more about my great grandson."


I decided that pointing out how he hadn't wanted that BEFORE wouldn't be productive. They'd showed up to save our lives, and granted, it had been Black Sorrow's fault we'd been in danger to start with, but I wasn't unhappy with how things turned out.


So I filled him in on my life up to now. My childhood, my early days as an Ascendant, and some of my adventures.


To my surprise, Black Sorrow seemed as enraptured as he did. I didn't know how to feel about her, honestly. She'd been a serious problem for me, but I knew now that everything she'd done had been lining up ducks to make this happen. I couldn't even process that kind of scheming, but knowing that any of our interactions could have been subtly shaded to make me do or think a specific thing was…unsettling.


In the end though, we'd come out ahead. I was going to net a large windfall of stats from all this, and she'd come to protect me when I needed it. As much as I resented some of her nonsense, seeing her there in front of me when the enemy gods had arrived was the most relieved and safe I'd felt in a long time.


This was the side of her that my grandmother saw, the one that pushed her to defend the erratic goddess even when she did something inexcusable, and I kind of got it. Black Sorrow was condescending, ruthless, and manipulative…but she cared. About all of us. I could see that. Even the Red Revenant held a special place in her heart. Given how easily she'd manipulated us into baiting out Raxus, I didn't believe that she couldn't have killed him if she'd been really trying, not with such a long time to do it and when he had such an obvious blind spot for her.


My grandmother's "death" had damaged their relationship, though I had no idea if it was the only factor. Now that they'd been angry for so long, I wasn't sure they knew how to make peace. Or rather, that she did.


Mom had told me privately that she hadn't seen her grandfather this lively in a long time. Being here with his wife, even as the object of her ire, was clearly a joy to him. Watching them together, I felt my heart ache. I imagined that was me and Callie. Imagine watching her look at me with that kind of tentative animosity.


Not that it wasn't warranted. The Revenant had known their daughter was alive and kept it from her. I wondered if she was the same person she had been back then though. Black Sorrow was erratic and vicious when provoked, but would she really have killed us all? Would she have killed the father of her own granddaughter? Or had she changed after so long without my grandmother?


Losing a child would make anyone different. Was this a completely new version of Black Sorrow? One who had mellowed after losing everything? I knew from interacting with the Lady that gods COULD change.


"Shane?" my mother said worriedly. "You ok?"


Callie reached over to squeeze my hand. "He's fine. He just gets lost in his head sometimes. He's always been more introspective than most people give him credit for."


"Translation, he has the attention span of a gnat," said Benny with a snicker.


"Shouldn't you be training with Sebastian?" I asked vindictively. "Do you really have time for all this socializing? You're going to need to put in the work to hit D-rank before the succession war, you know."


He glared at me. "Shut up, I'm working on it. Don't try to change the subject."


"Speaking of problems I'm working on," I turned to Jessie. "I have some good news for you. Callie and I did a bit of trial and error, and it seems like it's finally time. No rush, but whenever you're ready, I can finally do it. I can bring your brother back."


Jessie froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. Her girlfriend, Alyssa (Tasha's daughter and a D-rank dryad) shot her a concerned glance, but Jessie just stared at me. "It's…time? You can really do it?" She shot a look at Callie. "And what about…other people?" My wife winced, averting her eyes, and I frowned at her questioningly as I felt a pulse of guilt through the bond.


"That's not…" she said slowly. "I don't want to steal focus. We still have to bring back Alan, and Perit later on, I'd love to see Batty again, but-"


"But nothing," I said as I realized what she'd been thinking about. "Of course we can bring him back. I'm just sorry he missed the wedding. I'm sure he'd have liked to be there for the ceremony."


Attic Bat had been one of Callie's oldest friends. When she'd run away from home at sixteen, he'd taken her ion and kept her safe. He was murdered by the same person who'd killed Jessie's brother, a traitorous serial killer named Stricture who he'd been helping us try to catch.


Honestly I'd almost forgotten him. While he'd been a huge part of Callie's life, he'd died before I got a chance to meet him. I honestly felt like an asshole for not remembering, but we'd been through a LOT since then, and his death hadn't been as impactful for me as it had for Callie. She must have been hiding it from me too, because I hadn't picked it up through the bond. How deeply had she buried that?


I brought her hand up to my mouth, kissing it gently as I smiled at her. Among family I didn't bother with the mask, not with actual gods here. "We can arrange yours at the same time as Jessie's, a scroll for each of you. I just so happen to have exactly two in reserve for emergencies."


My mother beamed at me. "See, my boy is the sweetest. He gets that from his father. Eli used to do romantic things for me all the time when we were younger."


I gaped at her in open disbelief. To my surprise, Zeke nodded. "She's right. They were almost as disgustingly sweet as you two are. I used to mock him about it mercilessly. Now that everything is settled and he's meeting back up with us…" he smirked. "I'm looking forward to seeing how miserable Sasha is going to make him forcing him to make up for your childhood."


She smiled sweetly. "Don't be silly, I would never make my husband miserable. If he feels that he has some things to make up for and decides to put in the effort to make it up to our family, I support him in that course of action. If he doesn't…well, people change their minds."


Her glance at me was a bit guilty, and I could tell she wanted to force dad to make everything he had done up to me. The thing was, I wasn't sure that was even possible, and even if it was…I'd moved on. I still wasn't happy with how he'd handled things, but I could see where he was coming from, and I knew how complicated the situation had been.


I also knew that she was going to feel guilty if she didn't, since she blamed herself every bit as much as him. I had come a long way in my relationship with my mother, and in some ways I thought that not holding it against her made it WORSE for her. I shook off the various dramatic issues surfacing after so long and glanced at my great grandparents, who were sitting in silence, eating and glancing at each other when they thought the other wasn't looking.


Smiling, I dug into my food. The steak was excellent, the company was good, and for the first time in a long time, I felt…whole. We'd killed a god, I was with my whole family (minus my dad, but I wasn't too bothered), I wasn't under threat of death from any external factions, and I had months before I had to be ready for the succession war.


Not to mention I was finally keeping my word to Jessie, and helping my wife get over a devastating loss at the same time. Especially after seeing the darkness and depression in the dungeon, I couldn't help but appreciate what I had and how lucky I was to have it.


After everyone finished eating, my grandmother convinced her parents to stay for dessert, but eventually Black Sorrow got pissed at the Revenant again and almost attacked him, so we called the family dinner a tentative success and she sent them on their way. Then we all headed over to the inn.


The next day we met with the others to say goodbye. Elena was staying home with her husband and kids, though she insisted we stop in to say hi to Simon, and I left him one of my scrolls for the day just in case he needed something.


Once we said our goodbyes, we brought most of them along with us. Ray, Desria, Cavallo, Chess, and of course, Bella, all came with us. The Acheron was surprisingly capable of containing so many of our people, and it wasn't even that crowded. There were whole sections of the ship I hadn't even seen yet.


We found an out of the way spot and Callie and Jessie made their wishes. They paid me a C-rank chit each for the resurrections, and they went surprisingly smoothly. After that, we officially left Rackham space and set our course for the Heirworld. In just a few short months, the final fight over future of the WCP would begin. But hey, no pressure.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

I considered during the trip what to do with my wishes, and I came to the decision that I was growing too fast. I'd get the stats and renown eventually, but for now, I really needed to learn to actually use my new abilities, and even my old ones. I stockpiled my scrolls and suppressed my stats as we traveled, and put in the effort training with all of my forms during the trip.


The Ten Demons tree was used to refine each of my forms, slowly polishing and improving them. I saw a marked improvement in each, though nothing as astonishing as the one Belial had shown. My first form had been created back when I knew very little about being an Ascendant, and I'd left a lot of potential untapped. The rest of them I had a better handle on, and my improvements were more quantitative than qualitative with them.


Still, five months of travel meant five months of scrolls, giving me a whopping twelve hundred of the damned things.


The training had been effective for more than just me, though. Everyone was getting in their last minute polishes on their strength. Benny, Abel, Bethy, Jessie, Callie, even my sister had been training hard in preparation for the succession war, and frankly, the resources we had available to us made it an effective stretch of time for our growth.


Benny had been training with Sebastian, the necromantic aide de camp of Morgan Lark, whose mad scientist like approach to corpse construction had some symbolic similarities to his own power. He'd officially broken through to D-rank after quite a bit of work (what that work WAS I had no idea, Sebastian would take him on trips and they'd vanish for days and then meet back up with the ship), and was getting pretty scary.


Abel was training with Bethy, whose grasp on using blood energy was much more intuitive than his own. He'd confided in me that she was a great teacher, though her insistence on coming up with a dizzying array of A themed fake names for him was exhausting. He was starting to forget his actual name.


Callie was training with my mother, but also with Mel. While learning from high rankers was effective, the other fire used had spent quite some time polishing her abilities at a lower rank, and had more than a few helpful insights.


Jessie had broken through to D-rank pretty easily, but had spent most of the time bonding with her brother. Now that Alan was back, I could see a weight lifted off my friend's shoulders that I hadn't even known was there. She was constantly smiling, constantly energetic, and she would make trips around the ship, topping up people's energy while she showed Alan around, generally spreading good cheer and her own reputation.


That was one unique thing about healers. Combatants had trouble building rep outside of combat, with no dynamic action to take. Someone like Jessie, meanwhile, could just recharge everyone during their own training and her reputation grew by the day.


Bethy had been coming back for treatments alongside my cousin Felicity, who was, at this point, mostly completely healed. The C-ranker was still quiet and withdrawn, but now it was more companionable silence than traumatized blankness. What really threw me was that she had started spending a ton of time with Cark, and had bonded deeply with Cassidy. The three of them were inseparable, though no one was really willing to ask if they were romantically involved, since we were just happy to see her opening up to someone and didn't want to ruin it.


With the approach to the Heirworld coming up though, we'd all decided to meet to summarize our gains, and what better way to do that than a big family dinner.


"This is so good!" My wife groaned as she scarfed down another sandwich. "Why haven't you made this before?"


I rolled my eyes, making myself a sandwich. I'd slow roasted some beef with homemade gravy, and we were all making sandwiches with it, just cut open the bun and slap some cheese on there (always apply cheese first to seal the gravy so the bread doesn't get soggy). I'd made a huge pot of the stuff, and even then it was a little tight, even with just the main group around to share with.


Cooking for large groups was a much different activity than making a meal for a few people, and I didn't have much practice at it. I just shrugged. "Hard to feed so many. It did turn out good though, huh?"


I'd actually tried something a little different. Namely, I'd prepared C-ranked meat this time. Aside from the slow cook, I'd also used my poison fire to tenderize the meat (it had taken a week, and I'd had to use a VERY low level of power to do it right). It had been a huge pain, but it was such an ordeal, that, combined with all my previous progress and accumulation, over the course of this trip I'd hit Master in cooking.


Taking a big bite of the sandwich, I hummed with contentment. It really was fantastic. I'd cheated horrendously during prep, using Dantalion to thoroughly identify every aspect of my ingredients and to monitor the tenderizing process, but it had definitely been worth it.


"So, Attic Bat," I asked my wife's former mentor. "How have you been adjusting?"


The tall, thin man was even twitchier than I had guessed when I'd seen his body so long ago. His eyes flicked around the room constantly, and last I'd heard he'd holed up in a boiler room on the lower levels of the ship. Being underground made him more comfortable, according to Callie. The fact that we were in space didn't seem to matter, so I just left him to do his thing, offering whatever help I could.


He blinked far too much, and had a tendency to take a split second longer to respond to questions than most people, but he was generally a pretty polite and cheerful guy, if a bit nervous. "Oh?" he asked with a blink. "Adjusting? Yes. Adjustments. Many things to adjust to."


I'd been worried we might have messed something up bringing him back, causing some kind of trauma, but Callie had assured me he was just like that. Alan had been much less thrown by the whole experience, though he was having his own difficulties. Namely, the fact that his precious baby sister was now MUCH stronger than he was, and had her own life and friends he didn't know for the most part.


Jessie didn't begrudge him the attempts at protectiveness, bringing him everywhere and happily letting him pretend she wasn't basically his bodyguard. I glanced over to where he was sitting, digging into his own food with relish (the adjective not the substance, I'd have lost my mind).


"So, how is everyone's training going?" I glanced around, especially at my B-rankers. "Crell, you've been training with my uncle, right? How is it?"


"I'm blown away," he admitted unwillingly. "I've never met anyone so tricky or deceitful. I've learned so much. He knows things about my abilities even I don't know. I'd already trained up to the peak of Legendary in my time in the dungeon. I feel like with so much new information, I might be able to break Mythic soon."


I beamed at him. "That's amazing! Oh, also, weird question, what IS your ability? You can't rank a main Skill up past your current rank, so Doubt has to be secondary, right? What's your primary ability?"


"I was wondering about that, actually," Benny cut in. "You need to merge your Solid Path with your main Skill to condense a Chronicle, right? But you used the Chronicle as the foundation of your current Legendary Skill at C-rank, right? How could you do both at the same time? Don't those conflict?"


I shook my head, fielding this one. "Same logic as my pseudo domains. The Chronicle provides a foundation to withstand the soul weight of the higher ranked Skill, but it doesn't need to be the basis of it. It's more of a bar for entry than a required element."


Theoretically, that meant I could rank one of my non main Skills up past Master, but the amount of time and effort needed to hone one to that level was prohibitive, considering everything I had going on. Still, knowing that Crell might be able to hit Mythic with Doubt was a big boost to my confidence. It wasn't exactly the same as having an extra A-ranker, but it would definitely give us an edge. There might not be any other upranked Ascendants in any of the other factions.


Unfortunately, Crell was the only one likely to be capable of that feat. Carmichael and Alanna were my only other two who had ranked up a Skill in C-rank, and neither of them had been at Legendary long enough to push it to the peak before breaking through.


Naturally, all that talk about his Skill breaking through to Mythic had us all excited and anxious to see what he could do. We finished eating quickly before heading for a training room where we could see what he was capable of. Naturally, in order to best show off his Skills he needed to fight another B-ranker. Rather than a newbie, I asked Heather, Daysia's mother, to face him, and she seemed more than happy to have a chance to test her Skills.


The two of them were eager to fight, so we kicked off the battle pretty quick, and Daysia seemed thrilled to have a chance to watch her mother work. Heather was a powerful Dryad, having a bond with her B-rank tree that acted a lot like my bond with Callie.


To my shock, when the battle started, she manifested a kid of…tree shadow behind her. It reminded me of the one inside my soul, but she was able to physically interact with the world with it, which was incredibly fascinating to watch. Honestly, a lot of it probably went over my head. I'd watched high level fights before, but watching this one I'd activated Dantalion, and I realized pretty quickly that there was a LOT going on that I couldn't see.


Every blow seemed to be infused with meaning and weight that I could only vaguely recognize. Maybe it was mythology, or some embryonic form of domain, or even the same essence of willpower I used myself, just in a higher form that was hard to recognize, but the longer I watched, the more entranced I became.


Sadly, the battle didn't last as long as I might have liked. I actually missed a lot of it by focusing so hard. Overlooking the forest for the trees, so to speak. Still, I caught some of the proceedings, and seeing Crell talk Heather in circles and slowly divert her attacks was impressive. Once it ended though, everyone wanted to go next and show off the results of their training.


While that sounded fun, we needed a scale of progress, not individual combat assessments, so I shut it down. Most of our party got bored and went back to the dinner to keep eating all my food. I specifically stopped Callie, Jessie, and Benny though.


"We can all spar later, but for now, I want to check in with the team." I told them eagerly. "Which means it's share time ladies and gentlemen. Adjust your condition and accept your stats, because once we're all settled up, I want to see your stat sheets."


Five months of training would make a huge difference for all of us. I was excited to see exactly how far I'd gone myself, and checking on my wife's progress after her new trait was a must, not to mention seeing how Benny and Jessie were doing in D-rank. I was pretty sure none of them were going to disappoint me.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Obviously, before I started us off, my first task was the unfortunate duty of finally letting all of my stats hit me. I was NOT looking forward to this. Sure, It wasn't even a doubling, as far as I knew, but considering JUST the scrolls were going to net me a whopping NINETY THOUSAND stat points, I was pretty sure the rest of my income was going to be rough.

My twelve hundred scrolls had, of course, been passed around long ago and arrangements had been made for their use. I'd tried to do the best I could balancing out my stats, so I'd had a pretty decent chunk of that put into Creation, but I suspected the income from five months of my spreading legend was going to make a big difference there. Chances were things like Might and Vitality were about to spike pretty hard, so my salad days of perfectly balanced stats were an illusion that was bound to never appear in reality.

So, with the grim surrender normally only seen in men on their way to the gallows and parents whose children have to do a fundraiser for their childcare center, I finally released the tight grip on my soul and allowed my suspended stats to hit me all at once.

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-208,619

Impact-105

Fantasy-99,703

Vitality-111,854

Focus-129,766

Perception-128,014

Creation-80,372

Progress to next rank:758,430/1,000,000

Soul strength- Amethyst Soul Body

Chronicle: Ten Demons Tome

wish scrolls stockpiled: 0 (7 in the possession of friends to be used over time)

Bonded companion: 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 strenth 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)

Financial resources: 3 C-ranked, 42 D-ranked(worth 100 E-ranked, past master rank is a watershed)

Skills: Master Path of the Doom Sovereign, Lesser Valtek Mastery, Mastery of Cooking, Lesser Inventing Mastery, Beginner Balam Mastery, Minor Fire Manipulation Mastery, Minor Piano Mastery, Minor Guitar Mastery, Minor First Aid Mastery, Master Angelic Bond, Expert Dust Construction Mastery

DS Subskills. Monk: Stone Limb, Moonlit Night, Consecration of Flame, Ripple Running, State of Grace, Steam Arrow, Afterburner, Pit of Despair, Mountain Stance.

Rogue: Mercy Kill, Double Trouble, Touch of Tears, Flurry of Blows, Heavy hands, Marked for Death, False Fatality, Blood Curse, Creeping Darkness

Diviner: Overlay, Song of the Soil, Rhythm of the Wild, Eye of Revelation, Danger Sense, Piece of Mind

Goetia Staff Art:

First form- Belial. Touch of Tears, Stone Limb, Consecration of Flames

Techniques: Abomination Engine- uses Mephistopheles flame to supercharge the magmatic body of Belial, creating a demonic machine of pure destruction

Second Form- Mephistopheles. Consecration of Flame, Afterburner, Mercy Kill, Marked for Death.

Techniques: Cosmic Collapse: condensed sphere of black flame that explodes out one side amplifying force. Mephisto's Waltz: Movement technique, Damnatio Memoriae: causes the ground iself to dissolve best used on mountains to cause avalanches

Circle of Damnation: defensive technique through destruction

Third form- Mornax. Stone Limb, Triple Strength Density Shifting (x10 F-rank stored attacks), Mountain Stance

Fourth form - Zagan. Heal Burst, Purifying Flame, Consecration of Flame, Afterburner

Techniques: Life Nova, purifying and healing version of Cosmic Collapse.Genesis Burst: enhanced version of Life Nova designed to repair soul damage.

Fifth form- Bael. Moonlit Night, Eye of Revelation (inverted), Afterburner (full effectiveness is seven times base Perception due to stacking, can only currently stack a single stat, unlike wish power which stacks them all)

Sixth form- Beelzebub. Piece of Mind, Stone Limb, Dust Construction, Shadow Clone. Create twelve copies (thirteen versions total) of Shane, each copy able to use a single form without straining Shane's soul past the strain of the original technique, which is only slightly more of a strain than a normal form and still allows one additional form to be used without overstraining. Can't remote control the forms, but can communicate with them remotely via telepathy principles from Paired Dueling. Might and Perception stacking, most versatile and well designed form yet.

Seventh form- Agares. Pit of Despair, Dust Construction, Stone Limb, Shadow Manipulation, Afterburner. Ability to mold and shape the earth, into black liquid tar, solid abyssal stone, or burning ash

Eighth form- Dantalion. Eye of Revelation, Overlay, Song of the Soil, Scent of Truth, Danger Sense, Piece of Mind, Rhthym of the Wild, Afterburner

Ninth form- Sammael. Baseline of angel trait, energy source: Enshrining Darkness. A more powerful baseline that acts as a foundation for all the other forms, allowing them to reach their true power. Amplified by the angelic bond.

Pseudo Domain:

First Circle of Hell- Limbo. Belial, Mephistopheles, Moonlit Night, Eye of Revelation. A psuedo Domain of confusion and mental manipulation, distorting the senses and controlling the body.

Recreated version: Piece of Mind, Overlay, Belial and Mephistopheles, Moonlit Night, Eye of Revelation. Uses Piece of Mind as it was meant to be used, to parse multiple timelines for Mephistopheles to destroy, forcing the victim to conform to a specific future.

Second Circle of Hell: Gluttony. Mephistopeheles, Mornax, Dark Reflection, False Fatality. Reinforces the body and uses the damage redirection skills to shift damage and pain into the pit of destruction in the stomach, consuming attacks to break them down for power. Can be used to fuel Abomination Engine.

Third Circle of Hell: Wrath. Mephistopheles and Agares. Creates an all consuming lake of burning dark ash infused with the fire of destruction.

Thirteenth Circle of Hell: Pride. The infernal library of techniques that serves as the foundation of the infernal realm. Deduce, refine, and perfect techniques. Refine and perfect Skills, albeit more slowly, and still requires a foundation of knowledge.

Fourth circle of Hell: Retribution. Dark Reflection, False Fatality, Gluttony to stockpile, Afterburner, Abomination Engine. Collects all the damage done to fuel Gluttony and inflicts it on the enemy.

Fifth circle of Hell: Murmur. Bael, Dantalion. Use Dantalion's overwhelming information gathering powers to more deeply eliminate traces of passage through Bael's perfected stealth.

Sixth circle of hell:Leviathan. Zagan, Promethean Fire Soul Body. complete immunity to mental attacks below B-rank, enhancement to purification of internal corruption.

Seventh circle of hell: Behemoth. Agares and Mornax. Creates limbs of constructs of invincible rock.

The weight of all those stats was…rough. Not insurmountable, of course, percentage wise I'd had bigger bumps. But three hundred and forty THOUSAND stat points was pretty intense. I felt the pressure as all that strength flooded me, but luckily, Callie was there to help, siphoning off some of the pain so I could stay on my feet through the process.

Honestly, it wasn't as bad as I'd feared. Five months of renown with my current level of infamy was pretty insane. I'd expected to maybe even hit C-rank on the trip, between the massive income from my scrolls and all the stories. But it seemed like they'd mostly kept my name out of things.

That was probably smarter, if I was being fair. While the dungeon run was fine on its own, and killing a few C-rankers was good press, getting credit for say, slaying a god would have been way too much for me to handle. Unlike Suvaya, who was an ancient god with no real worshippers to speak of, Raxus had been a powerful enemy deity with his own world and force. Not to mention a twin brother who I still didn't really have a handle on.

Black Sorrow had been the one to finish him anyway, so I didn't really deserve that credit. Still, the renown from all the C and D-rankers I saved and from the spreading of my personal legend over the course of nearly half a year had put me firmly three quarters of the way through D-rank, and I was thrilled to see it.

Depending on how I played things going into the succession war, I had a chance to hit C-rank myself while we were there.

While I could theoretically become the Wishmaster even as a D-ranker, part of me rebelled at the thought of being quite that far below the top rankers while running the show. If I could break C-rank and possibly start work on my Chronicle in advance, it would be a huge boost to my confidence.

Sure enough, when I finally wrote out all my stats and passed them to my friends, they were all heartily impressed. "Damn," said Callie appreciatively. "You're really blowing me out of the water here, love. And becoming the next Wishmaster is only going to make it worse."

I snorted. "With the passive boosts from your racial trait, you're probably still a bit stronger. Not to mention you still have to merge it with your Solid Path, which should push you up even higher. I don't see myself leaving you behind anytime soon. Though I can't say it doesn't feel good to have the edge. I AM probably going to hit C-rank first."

"You're both monsters," Benny said flatly. "I hit D-rank and have barely even started chipping away at that, and you're almost done."

Jessie giggled. "Yeah, I'm way behind too, though since it's mostly in VItality, I can still hold my own. But honestly I'm not too worried about it. I've just been having the best time hanging out with Alan and Alyssa." Her face got serious. "You can count on me for the succession war though. Whatever you need." She grabbed my hand tightly. "Seriously Shane, I owe you so much. I'm going to make sure you win this."

"Just focus on healing," I told her with a warm smile. "You're going to be minding the base, but we need you pumping up anyone who gets injured or starts to run low on energy."

I didn't know what we had to DO during this war, but I knew I wanted Jessie and Benny out of the way. I had some vague plans for how to keep my best friend busy, but for Jessie, the plan was pretty simple.

Luckily, Jessie not only didn't have any real interest in a war, she also knew from experience that this was the best way to help. Her support abilities were far and away the most important asset any of us had aside from possibly my Wish power. We'd seen back during our stint in the army exactly how big of a difference healers could make, and Jessie was the best of the best.

I turned to look at Callie. "Well, since they seem like they want to put it off a bit, I guess that means you're next. So let's see it. I want to know how much you've grown from your new upgrade." Because I had a feeling it was a substantial amount, even if she didn't keep up with my own blistering advancement.

She beamed at me. "Oh I thought you'd never ask. I'm not quite up to the point where you are, but don't think I'll be left behind that easily." Based on her demeanor, I was pretty sure her progress was going to be nearly as impressive as mine, and I couldn't have been more thrilled. When she got stronger so did I, and I had to admit, I really couldn't wait to see what her Heretic flame could do at a higher level. I was finally getting to the point where I was feeling comfortable with what was coming. We were really going to do this.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

After I finished checking my stats, it was Callie's turn. It had been a while since I'd seen her stats, not just the length of this trip, but a bit before that even. I knew my wife grew fast, and while she said she hadn't quite caught up, I was expecting quite a bit of progress from her, maybe even more than my own.


"So, you ready for this?" I asked eagerly. "I really want to see how much good the new trait did you. I'm not sure if you got the same boost Jessie did, given you didn't bond to an existing being like her, but having that extra power probably benefited your renown a ton over the last five months."


She beamed at me. "Oh it definitely did. And honestly, I don't think the costume hurt either. Changing my brand a bit seems to have helped get some attention. Who knew?"


"My dad," I said with a grimace. "As much as I hate to give him credit for anything."


I had mostly moved past my annoyance at my father after benefiting from the help he gave me when forming my Chronicle. I knew why he'd done the things he did, and as much as I didn't approve, I could accept that he cared about me. He was still a dick, and I wasn't planning to stop pointing it out anytime soon.


Callie just chuckled, pecking me on the cheek. If anyone got having a disappointing dad it was her. She was the last person who was likely to push me to forgive and forget.


I felt through the bond as she relaxed her soul, allowing that renown to pour into her. I just lent my support, offering her my metaphysical shoulder to handle the pressure like she had done for me. She grimaced, but powered through, and then when it was over, she let out a long breath and opened her eyes. She grinned at me. "I knew it would be good, but this is even better than expected." She pulled out a sheet of paper, copying down her stats.


Calliope Wyndham. D-rank. Ability: Master Abyssal Infiltration- Enter the shadows and emerge where you will within range, shape the darkness to your call, moving it as if it were part of your body, and even extend your senses through the shadows to spy on your enemies.


Might-157,550


Impact-105


Vitality-89,742


Fantasy-136,520


Focus-67,908


Perception- 76,375


Creation-56,485


Progress to next rank: 584,685/1,000,000


Soul Strength: Amethyst Soul Body


Skills: Master Path of the Abyssal Priestess, Minor Tracking, Beginner Dual Dagger Mastery, Intermediate Stealth, Intermediate Trap Mastery, Beginner Disguise, Lesser Balam Mastery, Mastery of Shadow Manipulation. Master Trait: Heretic Angel.


Path of the Abyssal Priestess- Solid. Technique: Dance of the Abyssal Fairy


I whistled. "Three hundred and fifty thousand or so points," I marveled. "That's pretty crazy. No wonder it was so uncomfortable. More than doubled. All that work you were doing with my great grandmother while I was on Rackham must have paid off. Especially combined with the renown from all those C and D-rankers."


She grimaced. "I…I think it was more than that. I think the Void has started to take notice of me. On a wider scale. Not sure how I can tell, just an instinct. I think a lot of that renown came from them."


That hadn't occurred to me. Renown, I knew, didn't have to be a positive thing. With Callie being noticed by the Void Children back in the shallow and the rest of the void entering said shallow to field their army, news of her bizarre affinity for the void was bound to get out. So much attention from so many creatures was a surefire way to spike her renown, but it definitely wasn't something to celebrate.


I suspected it would have been even worse if she wasn't so low ranked. Potential or not, I doubted any A or S-ranked Void Children cared much about a random D-ranker. I reached out to take her hand.


"The more they pay attention, the faster you hit peak D-rank, and the faster we can combine your path and racial traits." I grinned at her wolfishly. "Given how well your flames resist the void, I'm guessing mixing the two is going to produce some…interesting results. Let them talk, they're sowing the seeds of their own destruction. Just watch, in a few decades, Void Children will be too afraid to even think your name."


Callie was slowly growing into an almost ideal predator for void creatures. By the time we became gods, I shuddered to think what she might become. Well, no, I was super pumped. But the Void Children probably wouldn't be as excited.


"Can we leave your plans for universal domination for later?" Benny asked in annoyance. "SOME of us still have to show off. And mine is a doozy. Not the stats, because I only recently hit D-rank, and I'm not like you monsters. But my new ability is pretty fascinating. Sebastian taught me quite a bit, and it synergized really interestingly with my current build."


Benicio Cortez- E-rank. Ability: Master Necrotech Integration- Allows the integration of existing artifacts into the users body for the purposes of strengthening and enhancing them, three items per placement. Allows the integration of souls into created technology.


Might-65,044


Impact-105


Fantasy-23,486


Vitality-26,441


Focus-48,141


Perception-13,582


Creation-13,471


Progress to next rank: 203,852/ 1,000,000


Soul strength: Sapphire Soul Body


Current integrated tech. 14/30. Torso: E-ranked intangibility for short bursts, Three times multiplication of Might for five minutes. Right fist: triple punch. Left forearm: E-ranked energy barrier or variable shape. Left fist: minor slow acting tranquilizer effect. Right foot: Density shifting to create heavier kicks and more powerful jumps. Left Foot: momentum neutralization to allow stopping instantly. Head: slight cognitive boost to allow more thinking time, Three times multiplication of Focus for five minutes. Back: ability to grow a shell to tank damage. Chest: Pair of golden E rank spider legs that arch up from the shoulders. Waist: Belt of spiritual calming, Three times Multiplication of Perception for five minutes. Heart: Illusionary double, Three times Multiplication of Vitality for five minutes.


Skills:Minor Cooking Mastery, Mastery of Inventing, Mastery of Necromantic Engineering, Lesser Haggling Mastery, Minor Stealth Mastery


Path of the Dracolich-Illusory. Proto Technique: sword art, Dance of the Dracolich


I blinked at him. "Not like you monsters my ASS," I said in awe. I was blown away. Sure, it had been…what, seven or eight months since I checked on Benny's progress, but still. "You have a new Skill at Mastery? What the hell did Sebastian TEACH you?"


"Used a scroll to get that started," he admitted. "Took it up to peak Beginner, then pushed it from there. Not to mention there was a lot of crossover with Inventing. My Path helped a ton too. But yeah, Sebastian took me on all sorts of crazy ass adventures to grind that up. I am REAL good at grave robbing now. Zeke actually helped. Necromantic Engineering is based on the principles of mixing inventing with soul manipulation." He grinned at me fiercely. "Didn't think I was going to let you leave me behind forever, did you dick?"


I shrugged. "Not bad, but you have a lot of work to do. Your integrated tech is still way out of date. You have to replace all of that. I see you upgraded a few pieces to E-rank, but I'm guessing you haven't been at D-rank long enough to create what you need."


He grimaced. "It's harder now. My gear can be WAY scarier, similar to the kind of stuff Zeke can do, but it's also much more limited. With souls as one of my major inputs, I need strong enemies to make any decent artifacts. I had to go this route though. This was my plan to set the foundations for integrating my Solid Path when I form it."


"I figured," I said encouragingly, clapping him on the shoulder. "It's going to be a hell of a powerset when it's done. Plus we're heading into a literal warzone, so I don't foresee issues finding enemies whose souls you can use. Obviously we're going to be aiming at bad people for this."


"Of course," he assured me. "I'm willing to take shortcuts to catch up, but I'm not Zeke, or any member of the WCP. I wouldn't trap an innocent person inside an object. Even if the soul isn't EXACTLY a person."


I nodded. The relationship between soul and consciousness was complicated, but the mind wasn't the soul, it was part of the body. They were intricately connected, of course, but souls weren't sentient, not on their own. Benny would have never agreed to take that path otherwise. I turned to Jessie. "Alright Jess, last one. "Let's see what you've got. You broke through to D-rank not long after we last talked. I don't know what this lunatic has been doing to earn so many points, but you've had lots of attention as a healer onboard."


She grinned. "I don't think I did too bad. But you know how focused my development is." She pulled out a piece of paper, letting some stats hit her before filling it out, but it wasn't a huge dramatic shift like ours, more of a normal burst of renown. She hadn't been putting things off until the last minute.


Jessica Evans- D-rank. Ability: Master Thirionad Triat- Undying Lifestorm variant. A spirit of the wild, bonded deeply with the Undying Lifestorm Ursa Randall. The beginning of a line.


Might-45,625 (x2 effective multiplier from racial trait)


Impact-105


Fantasy-12,758


Vitality-179,587 (x 3 effective multiplier from racial trait)


Focus-9,755


Perception-15,765


Creation-13,958


Progress to next rank: 277,724/1,000,000


Pathath of the Green Sun- Illusory


Lifebound partner: Undying Lifestorm Ursa- Randall


Soul strength: Amethyst Soul Body


Skills: Mastery of Lifeweaving, Intermediate Horticulture, Expert First Aid, Minor Herbalism, Minor Flower Arrangement, Mastery of Beast Taming


Benny glared at her. "You're the worst. Must you always show me up? And why the hell are your modifiers showing and Callie's arent?"


She shrugged. "No idea on the modifiers, probably because her racial trait isn't integrated with her main ability yet. As for the stat gain, It's a snowball thing. My VItality is so high for my level that it produces outsized effects, which produce outsized results and outsized renown. My Might is falling way behind where I was expecting though. Besides, a bunch of those points are from other stats, which were so low for my level they got forcibly dragged up. And I started at ninety two thousand anyway. I got probably a hundred and eighty thousand points or so. I think it might even have been a bit less than you."


I just laughed and clapped him on the back. "Face it, we're all monsters. You're going to have to work your ass up to stay on our level. But I can see it now. You're on the way to amazing things. Who knows, in a hundred years, maybe we'll all be gods together. Though we might need to workshop your branding. You're on the way to something like that Stralthrem guy. We don't want you to be the god of dread fabrication part two."


He shuddered. "Good note. But I think my Dracolich imagery will help. I have some pretty interesting plans for that Path." Despite his teasing of Jessie, I could see his confidence, his determination, and his excitement.


My team had grown so much. Not enough to make it safe to go into this war, but enough that I wasn't quite as worried. We were in this together, and we would get out of it the same way. And when I finally won and became the Wishmaster, I'd be taking all of them with me. The universe wasn't going to know what hit it.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Once we all coordinated stats (always good to know what your people are capable of) we headed up to the bridge to check on our progress. The Acheron, contrary to my initial impression, wasn't much smaller than the Necromedes. Instead, it was just more twisty. Lots of hallways leading to lots of chambers, but very few of them were larger than a standard ballroom.


The bridge, obviously, was the same size as before, and it gave us an easy view out over the planet we were approaching. Which was good because it was…a lot to take in.


"That's the biggest planet I've ever seen in my life," I said bluntly, staring down at the place in horrified fascination.


It was indeed the biggest planet I'd ever seen. It was colossal, easily ten times the size of any other planetary body I'd been around. Easily tens of thousands of miles across. The whole place was surrounded by a cage of what looked like flame bars. The bars were complicated and winding, forming strange patterns that made my head hurt to look at it.


"That's a formation, isn't it?" I asked with a grimace. "Some kind of containment apparatus?"


My grandfather, who was standing beside me, nodded approvingly. "Yup. It's a bit similar to the one on most ships. It suppresses the Impact on the planet's surface. Well, it USES the Impact, actually, to strengthen the cage. And THAT is the central control point." He pointed across the planet, to a large floating metal…well, it looked like a city.


"The space station you mentioned?" I tried not to state. "The one where all the WCP bigshots will be watching from?"


He nodded. "Pathema. It means suffering. Don't ask me why, the Wish Curse Palace loves their ghoulish imagery. The planet isn't exactly a fun place, but it's not THAT bad. At least from what I'm told."


"It's ok," my mother added from my other side. "I wouldn't go there on vacation, but it's not hell. It's not even that lawless. They have their own sort of order. Generations of prisoners have pretty much formed their own society. The new ones just get folded in. The only real shakeup is when people get out during the succession war."


I glanced around. My mom, Zeke, my grandparents, and the rest of my team were here. Apparently I wasn't the only one who wanted a look at our destination. "So, who are we expecting here?" I asked Zeke after a minute. "You know all the players. The different branch heads. I'm guessing they're all going to be here? Thirteen S-rankers? How about the old man? Is he coming?"


"Possibly," he said with a shrug. "He shows up sometimes. He was at Eli's, but none of us realized it until the end. He was being some E-ranker descendant for most of the meetings. Don't ask me how, I had no idea it was happening. Gods have weird ways of concealing themselves. Even the S-rankers never noticed. Of course, sometimes he DOESN'T come. So you can't assume. We were warned too, but it's just impossible to tell. Makes it kind of nerve wracking interacting with anyone, but it tends to keep things civil. Never know if you're going to snap at some D-ranker and get smote by divine wrath."


I laughed at that, and we all waited as the ship approached the station. When we docked, we all headed for the exit bay, and when we arrived, we were met by a familiar face. I beamed at my cousin, rushing over to scoop her up into a crushing hug. "Nat!" I laughed as I spun her around. "I didn't know you were coming. You're not in the competition, right?"


She chuckled, patting me on the back until I set her down. "Nope. But I wanted to come watch. And I'm not the only one." She glanced over her shoulder, and I heard Benny shout with excitement as Celine emerged from around a corner.


They were both firmly in the D-ranks, which was impressive, but not surprising, given they had been running part of a planet and had income in points. Still, I was glad to see it.


Behind Nat, though, I saw another pair of figures that weren't so recognizable. Not to me at least. Zeke and my mom both seemed to know at least one of them. A woman who looked to be in her early twenties, and a guy who looked my age. Zeke nodded to the woman. "Allison. Good to see you. Whose this? You have another kid?"


The woman, who I was pretty sure was my Aunt, shook her head. "This is Michael. Felix's son. He's inside talking to dad." She nodded to my mother. "Sasha. Been a long time. How is that psychotic brother of mine?"


Mom shrugged. "He has his good days. He'll be coming to participate, so you can ask him yourself."


Aunt Allison flinched, and I wondered what dad had done to get that reaction. As much as I disliked him sometimes, he wasn't the type to needlessly harm close family. Did she just buy into his rep too much? Or had she seen the things he did back during HIS succession war. I'd heard he made quite a name for himself.


My mom, who had been at that war, just smiled lightly. "He's mellowed a bit with age. Don't worry."


Zeke snorted in obvious disbelief, and Allison looked unsure, but quickly shook it off and turned to me. "And this must be Shane. I've heard quite a bit about you. My daughter is a big fan, and you've been making a lot of noise these days. Some people are saying they moved up this competition specifically because of you. After how thoroughly Aiden dominated the last succession war, another dual ability candidate makes the old timers nervous."


I shrugged. "More time would have been nice, but I'm not too worried. I'm here to win. Any other outcome is unacceptable."


She grinned. "Now you sound like my brother. Maybe this will be interesting after all."


They gestured for us to follow. "The branch heads are all here. Harrison and Malachai arrived earliest. Desmond, Warren, Selina, Danielle, and Christoph are all mingling, and the lower six are keeping to their rooms until closer to the big event."


I cocked my head, and Zeke explained. "There are thirteen branches of the WCP, one for each S-ranker. But the six lower branch heads are all relatively new. Under Aiden, the palace has seen some pretty unprecedented growth. Most Wishmasters are pretty reclusive, and they don't have much presence, leaving the faction to fly under the radar, coasting on the old man's reputation.


"Aiden is more…proactive," he sounded grudgingly admiring of the current Wishmaster. "He wields his power, directly interacts with other factions, and aggressively pushes through reforms that help us expand and solidify our grasp. Most Wishmasters after the old man worked through intermediaries, like they did during their faction buildup, but Aiden runs the WCP with an iron fist."


My Aunt sighed. "Not everyone likes that. The council is less than thrilled with his term. He's eroded more than a bit of their power base, swaying a large number of their elders over to his side on issues. While they run the branches and are the theoretical final authority, the WCP is very top down. Aiden has gotten to the point of being able to pressure enough of the other A-rankers to sway the votes when he needs them."


"I haven't been keeping up with faction politics," Zeke admitted. "But knowing him, that doesn't surprise me. You think that's why they have such a problem with Shane?"


"Probably. The Wishmaster's authority comes from the ancestor." Her terminology for the old man was much more respectful than ours. "As long as he doesn't overstep his authority, there's nothing the council can do to him directly. But in the past, they've always been able to exert indirect pressure through the elders. Candidates have private factions, but the WCP is a behemoth, and all the elders of the branch heads of the whole faction is a colossal force."


Zeke laughed. "But Aiden is a scary bastard. And because of that, he's swayed plenty of A-rankers of his own. Being stronger means his recruits are actual warriors, not just hollow greenhouse flowers made of wishes. At the high ranks, talents and determination matter. Paths are all about willpower and creativity."


That made me wince. "So, basically, the branch heads are under the impression that me winning would continue to erode their power base? Are they going to have their descendants team up to get rid of me?"


"Some of them, potentially," he said with a shrug. "Malachai would be thrilled if you were to take the seat. His oldest son, Percival, is one of the youngest branch heads himself. So your line has more power than most. Not all, of course. Desmond's son Miles and his granddaughter Mara are two of the of the lower six. And Selina is Westley's mother. The last two are obviously relatives of the other branch heads, but not direct line descendants. Patricia and Wendy are considered moderates, and generally lean towards the less prestigious candidates."


I whistled. "That's…complex. There are branches for non main line descendants?"


"By necessity," my Aunt explained. "Building a branch is time consuming and difficult. Families take time to expand. Oftentimes, the heavily supported S-rankers will split off small groups of families from their parent's branch. But for unsupported newbies like Patricia and Wendy, they mostly open what are referred to as "orphan branches". Basically, they take any family in the faction with potential, regardless of pedigree. Even adopt some in. Lots of political marriages."


"It's a mixed bag," Zeke commented. "They tried to snatch me up for one of those. Offered to fast track me to A-rank. Full access to as many wishes as I could pay for every day. Not really my scene."


My mother shot him an approving look, but didn't comment. Finally, we arrived at a large hall. We'd been traveling through abnormally tall hallways made of black metal. The hall had a pair of huge bronze double doors covered in complex imagery, but they were open. When we arrived, we were met by a man in his late thirties to early forties. He had short, sandy blonde hair going white in places and green eyes like mine.


Zeke snapped off a lazy salute. "Evening Mal, how's tricks?"


I saw my the man's (who was clearly my grandfather, Malachai) eye twitch. "Ezekial. How lovely. You've reached A-rank. Well done."


My Uncle shrugged. "What can I say? It's a gift."


Malachai seemed…not annoyed. More exasperated, but I saw a fond tilt at the corner of his lips. I got the impression they liked each other. Zeke hadn't said much bad about my grandfather, even if my mother was very clearly not a fan.


Speaking of which, the older man's eyes turned to my mom immediately afterward. "Sasha," he said solemnly. "If you've come, I suppose I can expect my son here any minute."


"I'm not my husband's keeper," she responded crisply. "But he did mention his plans to attend. He's going to be entering the competition as one of his son's representatives. It's easier because he only has one entering." She smiled sweetly at him, and Zeke snorted in amusement, though he turned it into a fake cough when Malachai glared at him.


"Quite," said my paternal grandfather in a measured tone. "Well, why don't you all come in. THe banquet will be some time later, but we're doing passed hors d'oeuvres.


I glanced at my party. Benny, Celine, Callie, Jessie, Bethy, Abel, and Chelsea were all with us. We'd left everyone else on the ship, planning to pick them up before our descent to the planet. I was glad I'd made that call now. Because even with just these few people I had a feeling this was going to be exhausting. Guess it was time to meet the family.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The inside of the chamber was fairly upscale. A big open space with a large dark wood table in the center. The table was rectangular and long, and took up about half the space, but the room was so spacious there was plenty of room in the surrounding area for people to mingle. Which they were, spreading out into small groups and hopping from one crowd to another like we were at some kind of job fair.


Which in a way, I guess we were. Because these people weren't just elders and branch managers. Some of them were my age, or at least closer to it. The candidates were here too.


"Listen up, kid," Zeke said to me quietly. I could tell from the way the sound had shifted that he was keeping us inaudible. "This is the meet and greet. While all of these candidates came from a specific branch, they were raised outside the family, just like you. Because of that, there's some room for negotiation when it comes to who represents who."


I cocked my head. "So people switch branches? Is that common?"


"Depends," he said, waggling his hand. "Branches with extensive family lines sometimes fail to properly impress descendents, so it's not unheard of for people to jump ship. This is where things like family resources come into play. The candidacy is neutral, and you can't interfere too heavily in the leadup, but once you're on the heirworld, things are a little different."


"In what sense?" I asked warily. That didn't sound good for me.


He shrugged. "It varies. Mostly, alliances. While interfering DIRECTLY is still off the table, there are lots of candidates involved. If your branch decides you're worth supporting, they might push some of the other candidates to help you out. Alternatively, some of the local residents are still in contact with their old branch or faction. A branch can influence local forces to hear out their candidate, though they can't punish them for not helping, so it mainly becomes a matter of whether the faction thinks the candidate has a chance."


"Will they try to get me on their side then?" I asked with interest. "Maybe we can play them off each other a bit, take some of the pressure off."


"That won't work," said a voice from beside us conversationally. I jumped and spun around to find Malachai standing next to us, smiling patiently. "Sorry, I didn't want to interrupt. You seemed so invested."


Zeke glared at him. "Stop piercing my stealth you old showoff. Don't you know it's rude to eavesdrop?"


My paternal grandfather shrugged. "Your seal was decent. I doubt anyone else would have even noticed it was there. Security through obscurity is an interesting tactic. But I was right next to you, boy, don't underestimate an old man just because you had a little bit of success. I've been an S-ranker since before your ancestor learned to shave."


"What do you mean it won't work?" I cut in, not wanting to listen to Zeke banter. "It's what everyone else is doing."


He nodded. "Because there are benefits. Changing branches is fine and dandy, the WCP is all about personal enrichment. But benefits require commonality. No one would want to miss out on investing in a future powerhouse, but you have to take the situation into account. It's risk versus reward, and the risk of you being the second Aiden makes the remote possibility of you becoming strong enough to be useful irrelevant."


"He's that big of a problem to them?" I asked in disbelief. "I mean, they're all on the same side, right?"


"The council is full of old timers like me," he said with a shrug. "Tens of thousands of years of tradition and stubbornness. They spent generations slowly eroding the Wishmaster's power within the faction, taking advantage of the ancestor's laissez faire attitude to manipulate the situation. There's a bottom line, but with enough time they were able to move the needle bit by bit."


I sighed. "Until Aiden."


"Exactly," he beamed. "The only member of the council that likes the way Aiden has been running things is Harrison, because he benefits from it directly. The rest of us have had to watch him trample all over millennia of slow progress with brute force. Everyone loves talking about the next big genius in their faction, but those great figures rarely benefit the ones around them much in the short term."


We stopped at a smaller table off to one side, where a few figures were standing. Zeke surreptitiously dropped his stealth technique and we rejoined a conversation where Bethy was chattering excitedly about how cool my great grandmother was and everyone else was trying not to whimper in fear. My grandparents, meanwhile, had shown up at some point, having been off talking to someone most likely.


"Felix," Malachai said with a grin. "Come meet your nephew." He waved to a tall, rangy blonde man with long hair and a close cropped goatee. His eyes were the same green I saw in the mirror, and I could see my dad in his features a bit, though he was so much taller and thinner the effect was a lot like someone had stretched my dad out on a rack and put a wig on him.


He raised an eyebrow at me. "So, you're Eli's boy. I thought you'd be more menacing. Then again, I can't see your face, so maybe you're giving me the death glare right now." He saw my mom and smiled lightly. "Sasha, been a while."


My mom smiled back, surprisingly. "Felix. It's so good to see you. And this must be Michael," she beamed at the slightly shorter, even thinner blue eyed version of the man standing next to him. "You've gotten so big. The last time I saw you your head didn't even come up to my knee. You going to keep an eye on my kids in there? You are the oldest."


"I'm hardly the oldest," he laughed. "Some of the older Aunts and Uncles have kids in their hundreds."


My mom frowned. "Hmmm," she said ambiguously.


Malachai sighed. "Sasha doesn't approve of my family dynamic. The fact that I have so many children with multiple mothers offends her."


"I'm sure that's not true," my other grandfather said smoothly, trying to unruffle feathers. "Sasha is just concerned about Shane. Your internal family matters aren't her business, we just all hope that Shane can get through this safe and sound."


My grandmother arched an eyebrow. "Oh really? You don't disapprove of his situation? Very impressed with him having children with multiple women, are you?"


He froze, swallowing hard. "What? No, obviously not. That isn't what I meant, I was just saying Shane is the priority right now. We don't have time to educate Malachai on his excesses and help him see the light." He shot Malachai an apologetic grimace, and the other man smothered an obvious snicker at seeing him get in trouble.


I rolled my eyes. I knew that my mother disliked my dad's father, not just because he had so many kids, but also because she thought he was a bad influence on my dad morally and emotionally. I didn't actually see any sign of that kind of coldness, but Zeke had also made it clear that Malachai favored his own people, and that his real ruthless streak was usually reserved for those outside his good graces. My dad was Malachai's favorite kid, and he was NOT shy about telling people so if they asked. Apparently I was benefiting from some of that regard now.


Sure enough, my mom wasn't willing to let nonsense get in the way of my safety. She exhaled loudly, clearly putting down her issues for the moment, before favoring Malachai with a smile. "My dad is right. Shane is the most important thing here."


Malachai nodded solemnly. "Agreed. Trust me, the better he does, the better I look. Even if he decides to follow in Aiden's footsteps and suppress the council, being from my branch will open up certain opportunities."


"How about my Uncle, Percival?" I asked hopefully. "Can we count on his support?"


He grimaced. "Not even remotely. His son Devon is competing. Percival won't compromise his chances for a direct line successor sitting in the big chair. Eli and Percy never got along particularly well, either, so he's unlikely to help out of sentiment."


Zeke snorted. "No one gets along with Percy. He's a smarmy asshole who thinks the sun shines out of his ass. He's the oldest, so he thinks he's always right, and being an S-ranker hasn't helped. Doesn't help that he married the Vetala girl from that Ducal clan. He loves flaunting his Imperial support."


"At least I HAVE imperial support," sneered a new voice. We all turned to find a new man standing nearby. He was the spitting image of my grandfather, but with red hair instead of blonde like most of the family. He was glaring at most of us, especially Zeke. "But then, what would you know about the trappings of power, bootlicker?"


"Percival," snapped Malachai. "There's no need to be rude. Ezekial is a contestant, and your brother's closest friend."


The red haired man sniffed haughtily. "Friend, is it? I thought he was a dog. Guarding Elijah's mutt for table scraps." He smirked at Zeke, and I could see the malice in his eyes as he tried to bait my uncle into a fight.


"What the FUCK did you just say about my son?" My mother hissed, eyes starting to glow white as she stepped forward. My grandfather reached out and grabbed her arm, but his face didn't look much friendlier.


Percival gave her a smarmy smile. "Apologies, Sasha. I got a bit carried away. You do have a certain pedigree I suppose. An acceptable addition to the family. You just chose a poor partner. Honestly, I don't understand why all of you flock to defend Elijah. What exactly is so impressive about my little brother that it inspires such loyalty?"


I could see from his nearly manic expression that he actually wanted an answer. I wasn't sure why, but this HATED my dad. Not like I used to hate my dad. Like I had hated fucking TRAVIS. What inspired someone to this level of malice towards a family member.


Before I could decide how to respond though, there was a shift on the ground. A pair of hands erupted from the marble floor on each side of Percival, mercury hands grabbing ahold of his ankles and holding him in place. There was a slight ring as something sharp split the air, and a mirrored sword was suddenly pressed to Percival's throat.


A long absent voice, one I hadn't heard since I was forming my chronicle, drawled into the now silent tension. "Insult my wife or son again, Percy, and I'll fucking show you." We all turned to look and found my dad leaning against a column, cane twirling between his fingers lazily as his golden eyes pierced his oldest brother. The colossal knight holding the sword to Percival's throat reflected the scene around him perfectly, and I knew what that meant.


A mirror soul. My dad had brought out an S-rank combat asset. Percival, as far as I could tell, was a relatively fresh S-ranker, and my dad had been in A-rank a lot longer than Zeke and was infamous. I wasn't absolutely positive he could fight his brother up a rank, but I also wasn't sure he couldn't and judging by the hate tinged fear on Percival's face, neither was he.


My dad turned away from his brother, dismissing him, and ran his eyes over our group, stopping on my mom's face with a devilish grin. "Honey," he said with amusement. "I'm home." I couldn't help it, I burst out laughing. I was so impressed with his entrance, I didn't even try to hit him in the throat with my staff…yet. After all, the night was still young.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

"Elijah," hissed Percival darkly. "How DARE you? How dare you raise your blade against a branch head of the Wish Curse Palace. If you think Adramalech can save you after this, you-ve got anoth-"


My dad casually tapped his cane and the mirror plated knight raised his non sword holding hand and punched Percival across the face. "Shut up Percy," he drawled cheerfully. "I don't have time for your insecurities. I don't care that dad likes me better, or that you're the oldest, or that you resent my reputation. My kid doesn't need your help, he has mine, and if you speak about him or my best friend in that manner in front of me again, I'm going to rip your tongue out and nail it to your forehead."


Malachai grimaced. "Elijah, there's no need for that. Your brother got carried away, and he learned his lesson. We're in public, and we don't need to make a scene. This is family business."


My dad rolled his eyes, but flicked his fingers, and the three constructs vanished. "You're lucky. If I was feeling really vindictive, I'd have just let my wife's parents tear you apart." His eyes flicked down, and Percival followed his gaze to the pool of endless darkness that had congealed at his feet. "But Sasha would be so upset if I let them kick off a war because I was too lazy to clean up my own trash."


"You can't TALK to me like that," Percival howled. "I am a branch head. An elder of this faction. You're not even IN the WCP anymore. This assault is an act of war!"


"Assault?" My dad said lightly. "I didn't see any assault." He turned to the others. "Did any of you see an assault? As far as I saw, Percival tripped and bumped into the wall face first. It was clearly a tragic accident."


Zeke nodded sagely. "He's always been clumsy. I thought he'd have grown out of it."


"LIARS!" Howled the red haired man. "You're all liars! You're plotting against me! You're all-"


A woman stepped from the crowd, her face serene but her eyes cold. "Percival." Her tone was frosty, and as soon as she spoke, his mouth snapped shut. "I'm so sorry," her dark hair stood out against bronze skin, and her smile was warm and compassionate, as long as you didn't look above her nose. "My husband gets a bit out of sorts when it comes to his little brother."


"Ayra," my dad said mildly. "I'm surprised you let him out on his own. Next time I'd suggest getting him vaccinated first. I think he's foaming at the mouth a bit."


She frowned, eyes flashing. "I'll thank you to keep your nose out of my business, Elijah. I may not despise you as my husband does, but I don't particularly like you either. You would do well not to make an enemy of me."


"Threaten my husband again," my mom said cheerfully. "And I'll stomp your teeth in and wear your head like a shoe."


"Enough, children," my grandfather finally said. His voice was firm, and the echo of power rolled over us as the full weight of a demigod was released into the surroundings. "This isn't productive. We're here to help Shane, not to start trouble between branches. Miss Vetala, we're sorry about your husband's agitation. Perhaps you should take him elsewhere to calm down."


It was easy to forget, given his easygoing nature, that my grandfather was the Radiant Pope, a demigod considered one of the strongest in his whole faction, and one of the top ten S-rankers in the universe.


Ayra tensed for a minute, but finally nodded. "Very well, your holiness. It was nice to meet you." She shot us a hard look before leaving.


My mom shook her head. "I'm sorry, that wasn't-"


"That wasn't your fault," my grandfather said bluntly. "The Vetala clan ability is called Discord. It heightens aggression and exploits insecurity. She was here for a few minutes before she showed herself, and she made sure to start a fight. Granted, she didn't have to try hard, your brother does NOT like you, Elijah."


My dad shrugged. "He's always been a jealous little twit. That did seem extreme though. Don't know how I missed that. She's getting sneakier."


Malachai sighed. "She has. And she's been pushing Percy into situations like that any time she can. She wants to corner him into starting a branch war and cutting ties with me. She basically runs things over there already, but he puts his foot down when it concerns our main branch. I didn't realize it had gotten so bad. He's never gotten THAT unhinged before."


"Might be cumulative damage," I said. Everyone turned to look at me and I shrugged. "Some kind of soul or mental influence can cause damage over time. I'd offer to look at him, but I doubt my abilities would scratch an S-rank soul injury. If it IS the soul."


"If it's not, I might be able to help," my grandfather added. "My purification flame can heal some types of mental damage."


My paternal grandfather nodded. "I'd appreciate that, if the opportunity arises. In the meantime…" his expression hardened. "I think I'll reach out to some of the other council members. Internal politics aside, I don't like the idea of one of our branches being usurped by an Imperial clan. I think I've been ignoring a few too many signs in my preoccupation with this succession war."


"It's fine, dad," my father assured him. "We get it. Everyone has been busy."


"Yeah, and I'm sorry about earlier," my mom said guiltily. "I have my issues with you, but I wouldn't normally be so…confrontational. Not with so much at stake. In fact, I think my dad was the only one of us unaffected. That power of hers is nasty."


It was. Being able to manipulate the minds of so many powerful people at once without detection? That was scary. But it clearly had some limits too. My grandfather was fine, and my grandmother had been a little annoyed but hadn't lost her shit. Dad was an edgy bastard at the best of times, and mom could get volatile when it came to me.


The biggest outlier was probably Percival, though I didn't know him well enough to say for sure. Like I'd said though, consistent contact probably wore him down.


"What are the implications of this?" Callie asked after a minute. "I mean, the candidate selection is the most sacred tradition the WCP has. The Wishmaster himself decreed its sanctity, and every Wishmaster after has endorsed it. Is it really ok for the Imperials to poke their noses into something like this?"


Malachai sighed. "It's the war. Too much going on at once. With the gods focused on the enemy and now the void, there's less oversight among the factions. The succession war is a vulnerable time, and it's not a surprise that clans like the Vetala are hoping to exploit it."


"Bottom feeders," my dad sneered. "The Vetala are habitual opportunists. They wait for any sign of weakness and then pounce. Their whole legacy is nothing but large scale manipulation and trying to scavenge from other people's kills. I don't mind a clever strategy, but I have no patience for career cowards."


"They're pretty smug about it too," Zeke grimaced. "Always looking down on everyone, like they accomplished some monumental task by following stronger forces and taking advantage of opportunities."


I winced. "Are there going to be any down there with us? You said Percival's son was coming, I assume he's also HER son? She sending any cousins?"


"Probably," my paternal grandfather shrugged. "But that's not the main issue."


My wife frowned at him. "How is it not? We basically just declared war on them, he's going to be coming after us with everything he's got."


"You're not thinking this through," my grandmother advised her. "They will be an issue, but not the biggest one. That honor belongs to the candidates. Think about it. You're about to be planet locked with several hundred small scale reality warpers."


Even my dad grimaced at that. "It is a bit annoying. Especially the candidates who are already higher ranked. It might seem like being the Wishmaster wouldn't be useful to a higher ranked candidate, but trust me, A-rank is LONG and arduous. Being the Wishmaster is as good as hopping on the fast track to S-rank. Once you hit that level, you retire, but there's some real variance in timeline between different Wishmasters. Aiden, for instance, has had one of the briefest tenures of any Wishmaster in the last ten thousand years. His predecessor held office for three millennia. Aiden held it for less than three hundred years."


That was…alarming. Not to mention it was probably its own form of boost to renown. Being the most dynamic and effective Wishmaster in recent memory was a hell of a feather in your cap. Big shoes to fill too, if I won. But I was getting distracted, I turned back to watch my dad.


"The point is," he continued. "Wishes are annoying to go up against, and when EVERYONE has them, things get dicey. Sure, most of them get burned paying for services and forming alliances, but you can expect almost everyone you meet to have a spare up their sleeve in case of emergency."


And I knew how they would do it too. Direct combat help, luck, items, communication. You could do anything with a wish. In fact, you could do SO much I didn't know how the hell we would deal with it.


Zeke seemed to pick up my distress. "It's not as bad as it sounds, though. Yes, things get crazy, but you have to remember that wishes can COUNTER other wishes. Direct action risks having one of your moves invalidated, and one wish longer is one wish stronger. Wasting your limited supply on a stalemate is considered the height of stupidity. Any of the REALLY clever candidates will spend their capital recruiting people with more stable capabilities. Like you do."


"I can handle any of the A-rank candidates," my dad said coldly. "My Wish Devil trait is ideal for countering contingencies. Triggering their backups against their will is child's play."


I felt a bit better after he said that, but I wasn't able to allow myself to relax for more than a second before a sound split the air. A high ringing I recognized quickly as someone tapping on a glass. We all turned to find Harrison standing at the head of the large table, smiling warmly at all of us. "Apologies, my friends," he said jovially. "But my son has a few words he'd like to say to our younger generation."


Sure enough, he stepped aside and a new form took his place, one I recognized from my brief talk with him at the conclave. Aiden Wyndham. The current Wishmaster.


Everyone shut up pretty much instantly. And I knew why. His presence was…heavy. Heavier than my mom, than Sebastian, than Killian. He had this sort of suffocating presence that no other A-ranker I'd seen could match. I imagined that Lark might have been like this at A-rank. Or Abel might be in the future.


His eyes panned across the room, briefly stopping on my dad. They exchanged a brief smile and a nod and then he moved on. "I've been told I'm supposed to say a few words. Inspire you to be your best, to make the WCP proud," he said lazily as he scanned the crowd.


Then he shrugged. "I don't see it. You're all pretty mediocre. But hey, somebody has to win, so there's that. As for pride, the WCP doesn't give a fuck about your performance here. Not unless you win, and not even really then. So whatever, try your best, or don't, I don't actually care. Someone get me a beer." Then he sat down and summarily ignored the whole room.


"Damn," Zeke said appreciatively. "I forgot how much I liked him when we were younger." I rolled my eyes. He would have. Shrugging, we all headed for the table to sit down. Guess it was time for the real meeting to start. I wondered if I could get away with napping behind my mask if I could hold myself upright.