home

search

Chapter 5: The Deific Planes pt. 3

  It was around midnight when Bryn slowly awoke.

  “Ugh,” he groaned groggily, “my head… why do my eyes hurt so much?”

  “Well my lord, for starters, they’re green now,” Neverwinter joked with a gentle smile.

  Her voice hadn’t been projecting into his head like it usually did, it was spoken to him, from above him. Which meant one of two things, she was in her summoned battle form, and above him?

  Bryn’s head whipped around fiercely. Looking up into Neverwinter’s smiling face, her green lips tugging upwards in an amused chuckle, Bryn then realized he had been laying for god knows how long, in the sword goddess’ lap.

  Attempting to bolt away, full of embarrassment, he began to rollover and find his footing. But another sharp jolt of pain tore through his eyes, sending molten hot waves of agony searing through Bryn’s battered body, and the ranker instantly came crashing back down to the rocky floor.

  “My lord please,” Neverwinter gently admonished with a slight chuckle, remaining where she sat, “we can’t keep affording to replace all these brain cells you keep losing, after all, you’ve only got the one left.”

  “Har har,” Bryn muttered dryly, voice laden with frustration and sarcasm. His face was still firmly embedded into the mountain floor where he’d fallen.

  “And what do you mean my eyes are green now?”

  “Remove your head from the rocks, it’ll make it easier to take a look at your prompt updates, my lord,” Neverwinter giggled again, “I’m no doctor, but I think at least 9/10 opticians would agree with me.”

  Heaving a sigh and a long groan, Bryn used all of his remaining strength in that moment to roll himself over onto his back. His still aching head then beheld another group of system updates waiting for him, hovering just to the left of his peripheral vision. Though this list was much smaller than the first set after the initial, massive explosion, Bryn knew that they were likely his only hope of understanding anything of what had just happened to him.

  The most prominent green message screen, sticking out like a spore thumb, felt like a direct answer to his prayers.

  “[CONGRATULATIONS 12th EMERALD MONARCH!]

  YOU HAVE AWAKENED THE EMERALD LOTUS. THE [FIRST BLOOM]

  Perception time: +5%

  Reaction speed: +5%

  Stat Increase: +5%

  Emerald Soul: lv1

  {ACTIVE TIME: 16 mins} ”

  “…Ah,” Bryn realized emptily, “so that’s why the world is moving so weirdly.”

  “How do you feel, my lord?” Neverwinter asked tentatively.

  “Like someone kept hitting me in the head a few thousand times with a large rock,” he groaned, “all the while telling me it was for my own good. And now everything is both hyper sharp and all moving so damn fast it constantly makes me want to pass out and barf. I feel like a fucking computer mouse with incredibly low input resistance, spazzing all over the damn place.”

  Though he couldn’t see the top half of her helmeted, veiled face, Bryn could still tell Neverwinter clearly sympathized with his plight. She winced slightly, imagining what the ranker might be going through.

  “My lord,” she said suddenly, watching her words for a reason Bryn did not know, but was soon to find out.

  “I know you have every reason to not be up for moving right now, which is very valid… but I’ve been sensing something down in the epicenter of where the blast happened, where the valley used to be. I’m not sure, but I think it’s the souls of the Blood Emperor and the Grand Devourer. Somehow, they’re still down there…”

  Bryn slowly gulped, his earlier torture forgotten.

  Memories of the brief but horrifying battle echoed hauntingly in his ears.

  “What kind of monster am I…?” he sorrowfully moaned, shutting his eyes and throwing his head down into his hands.

  Vigorously as he shook his head, it was futile. The memories would not stop assaulting him. The face of his victims, however brief the exchange had been, were now permanently seared into his brain.

  Voicelessly, emotionlessly, endless phantoms from his past, from Axelrod’s exploits, ravaged his stained conscience. Mercilessly they thundered the question a million, billion times in his mind.

  They damned him, they cheered him. But worse, some showed indifference to him.

  Killing Dong Sang Wook had been so easy. Bryn couldn’t help feeling a cold shiver rip through him reminiscing how he’d so quickly justified his every action in his mind and executed upon then with extreme prejudice.

  Yes Dong Sang Wook or Ming Il Sook, or whatever his name was, was gunning for a war to end all wars. Yes he was a deplorable failure of his family tree, generally seen by all he interacted with both in game and irl as an amalgamation of all the worst parts of the human experience, and maybe yes he’d been directly responsible for both planning and directly orchestrating some of the worst acts of mass terror against other wizards in the world of Wizard’s Quest, but that was when Wizard’s Quest had been just a game. Back when the stakes were only as deep as how long the wizard could hold out before their daily life duties caused them to log out. Back when their powers were locked graciously behind a computer screen, when magic was just an escape from reality that could be entered or left by the click of a computer mouse, when being in WQ was something pleasantly wished for.

  Bryn’s downcast, depressed eyes hauntingly remembered the harrowed experience in which he’d birthed into this world. Already on the brink of death, limbs mangled, missing or mauled. Incapable of sight. A miserable, bloody mess of a Celestial.

  And now, the literal same day he’d ascended, he gave that same grim sentencing to two others he’d never even seen before. One could say, he shouldn’t feel anything for the Grand Devourer, after all it was just a random boss mob, but Ming Il Sook, Dong Sang Wook, was still a person.

  Just as lost in this new fucked up existence as Bryn.

  Just as scared.

  Just as focused on trying to get home, if they even could get home from wherever this was…

  Who knew for sure if Ming would actually have continued his blood lusted urge to destroy FatedWhisper now that it seemed that death held real consequences for every single human trapped in what once had been a mere MMORPG.

  Who was he to be judge, jury and executioner? Because he held the title The Storm Executioner? Because he now had a ranker grade Death Affinity core? 3 days ago his worst dilemma was how much he wanted to procrastinate his college admissions letters to Stanford and Yale and his Salutatorian speech. 3 days ago he was just a regular human who’s reaction to being told Wizard’s Quest was real would likely have been to suggest intense therapy.

  He remembered how he’d cried upon waking as a ranker because he was starting to dissociate so much from how he used to think and feel as a human, even as a celestial.

  Everything was becoming so different so quickly. Was he too, becoming so different that human emotions meant nothing to him anymore?

  If so… what even was he becoming?

  Snake hair, an irremovable crown, and now green eyes…

  Golden gates; a dead, gigantic 12 headed dragon; and a divine masked asshole in a too perfect, golden suit.

  What were they? What was their role in all of whatever this was?

  3 pillars; three powerful deities bearing his face; three fates, blessed by a positive karma, but soaked in blood and strife.

  Voices flashed in Bryn’s mind, breaking him from his spiraling.

  Faces, smiles, laughs gripped his soul, ripping him from the dark sea of shame and regret threatening to drown him into the abyss, to crush him under an ocean of regrets.

  Bryn’s resolve began to firm, becoming rigid as steel. His eyes grew more emotionless and detached.

  There was no way he could risk their safety for his morals. Who was he to be sitting there depressed? Especially, when the fact remained, if Ming had carried out his plans as soon as he became used to his ranker powers, Bryn would’ve been left in an ocean of his allies’ bodies. Ming had proven again and again he was not a person to be reasoned with. Then there was the last eerie consideration that filled Bryn with an inescapable sense of dread. Somehow Ming was also the only other ranker wizard confirmed to have a named weapon, his Sanguinnomicon, Black Rose’s Song. A weapon that was likely now a sentient weapon of unspeakable mass destruction and infinite potential, like Bryn’s Neverwinter had become.

  Bryn solemnly shut his eyes, his heart growing as cold as a tundra. Ming was the last person Bryn could ever allow to get accustomed to god-like power. He was the last person anyone aside from Ming’s own guildmaster, could allow to ever fully taste the awe inspiring depths of being a wizard ranker, a god.

  There was no room in his heart of soul for regret, there could be no room. He’d done what he needed to do.

  If he’d been given 100 chances to redo things, he’d kill Ming 100 times over.

  “Fool had more than his fair share of chances,” Bryn muttered darkly.

  Suddenly, Bryn was very aware of the irremovable emerald crown, still resting unbothered on his head. Though it was no longer embedded into his skull, its weight grew tremendously heavy.

  “Such is the weight of leadership,” he sighed lifelessly, “or some shit like that I guess…”

  He slowly sat up, breathing heavily.

  The world spun and careened, his now super enhanced vision was giving him a constant sense of motion-sickness.

  Closing his still green eyes, he clutched his head in pain.

  “My lord?” Neverwinter asked quietly.

  She had been silently sitting and watching the turbulent mess of emotions tear through her ranker. Bryn had an intrinsic understanding that she didn’t need to ask him what was on his mind, nor really, did he have to ask about hers. They were soul bound as weapon and wielder. She knew everything that plagued her ranker’s heart and soul, and so, had abstained from distracting him, giving Bryn time to experience his emotions and come to terms with them. Giving him her absolute faith that he would rebound and rise to his role.

  “I’m alright Neverwinter,” Bryn responded gruffly, yet as gently as he could muster. She had done nothing to deserve his ruined mood and so he would not give it to her, “do you know any way to make this lotus thing more manageable? I can barely handle seeing right now, much less planning anything.”

  “Of course, sire,” she responded quietly, bowing at the waist to him as she made to get up from where she sat walking gently over to him and kneeling next to the ailing teen. Gently holding his temples between her two armored hands, she guided him dutifully, yet softly. “Focus your energy into your eyes, like with flying, and try to picture something slow, while doing so imagine the world around you slowing down.”

  She gave an encouraging smile and double thumbs up, “I might be wrong, but that should offer you some ease, my lord.”

  Thanking her graciously, Bryn spent the next 12 minutes attempting to slow down his vision perception to a more manageable speed. He pictured everything in his mind from molasses, to honey that refused to drip from the bottom of the bottle, to slow motion memes.

  When he was about to beat his head into the ground in frustration, a chime sound alerted his attention to a new status popup that had suddenly appeared before him.

  “[CONGRATULATIONS 12th EMERALD MONARCH!]

  EMERALD LOTUS [FIRST BLOOM Lv1 5%]

  Perception time: +8%

  Reaction speed: +8%

  Stat Increase: +8%

  Emerald Soul: lv1

  {ACTIVE TIME: 4:59 minutes} ”

  Bryn stared at the message confused.

  “The lotus leveled up… just by me trying to control my perception speed?” The ranker looked up at his sword goddess questioningly.

  Neverwinter just shrugged her armored shoulders, equally as perplexed.

  It was then that Bryn noticed the headaches had stopped, he could see normally again, though he had to maintain a constant amount of effort to stop them from speeding up everything again.

  “Wlep, ok then I guess,” Bryn resolved, feeling better yet also completely fed up with his new fabled abilities, “let's go check out those souls I guess.”

  Neverwinter silently nodded.

  Slowly the two expanded their large wings and prepared to launch themselves into the air.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “My lord!” Neverwinter exclaimed, “your wings! they’re green!”

  “Huh,” was all Bryn’s exhausted mind could manage flexing his feathers, “so indeed they are.”

  He was admittedly momentarily distracted by how the moonlight bounced off of his emerald green feathers, marveling at the effect it created, and how the same light seemed to be completely absorbed by Neverwinter’s pitch black wings.

  With silent nods to each other, the duo launched themselves off the edge of the partially destroyed mountain, gliding down through the vast desecrated valley.

  For a few minutes the duo ducked, twirled, somersaulted, crested and dived around a dense matrix of debris that were still raining down around them, even hours after the cataclysmic event had happened. Some were as small as pebbles, some were larger than skyscrapers. Bryn was eternally grateful for Neverwinter’s seemingly inherent affinity to see perfectly in the darkness, guiding the duo along a perfect route to wherever the souls lay. He was even begrudgingly appreciative of the, ironic, night and day difference the lotus brought to his divine vision.

  Even at just the First Bloom, his ability to perceive danger had tremendously increased. Not to mention that the stat increases seemed to combat the stat drain of summoning his familiars, allowing him access to some of his incredibly busted WIS and INT stats even with Neverwinter currently in battle form. They compounded beautifully with his variable vision perception, so much so that at an altitude of thousands of feet in the air, he could still accurately make out the carnage that the three way deific clash had caused, while perfectly dodging the debris with room to spare. Throughout their flight, Bryn made several discoveries.

  Firstly, tweaking his perception speed up and down to super fast and super slow degrees allowed him to start to gauge how moving things around him reacted when he did so. Not only did he gain a newfound appreciation and fear for whatever the lotus had left in store, he was also pleasantly surprised when a familiar chiming sound alerted him to a new green popup window telling him that his erratic and spastic continuous use of the lotus to navigate his areal jungle gym of death, had rewarded him by leveling up the lotus to lv 2.

  However ironically, it also caused the timer to drain much faster, causing a brief shooting migraine as the lotus suddenly shut off. Bryn yelped in pain, dropping several hundreds of feet from the air and almost ended up being skewered by a falling rock larger than an 18 wheeler, and possibly hundreds of times as heavy.

  An exasperated Neverwitner then had to immediately exert a massive burst of magic, pushing aside hundreds of falling rocks with a burst of Fimbulwinter. She simultaneously unleashed thousands of I'Ieravnos’ terrifying purple lightning bolts to completely obliterate the massive rock threatening to squash or badly maim her ranker while she dived at hundreds of miles an hour to catch him. She stared at Bryn, clutched in her arms for dear life, with the most deadpan look she could muster while half her face was still continuously veiled by her half helmet. Though she was sweating heavily and breathing ragged from the extreme combination of physical and magical exertion, all Bryn could see, as she was bathed in moonlight, icy winds and booms of lightning, was a beautiful angel of destruction. Bryn gave her the most sheepish smile and apology he could before letting go, and the two resumed their flight.

  After a while of staring intensely at specific parts of the landscape, attempting to locate the epicenter of the blast, wondering why he couldn’t find the blast crater, Bryn realized with immense shock that even where he’d landed miles away, was still within the epicenter of the titanic blast radius. Everything for hundreds of miles around them, was the blast crater.

  A low whistle of shock escaped the ranker’s lips.

  Neverwinter, remaining silent, continued to guide the two of them towards the feeling of soul energy she’d been feeling from their makeshift mountain alcove. The closer the two got, the more Bryn began to pick up on the presence of the souls himself, sending an uncomfortable chill running up the ranker’s spine.

  Eventually, Neverwinter held up an armored hand, signaling for them to flare out their wings, beginning their descent while slowing their downward acceleration till the duo gently hovered centimeters above the ground.

  Bryn had long been wondering why the terrain had changed colors so significantly a few minutes into their flight. The light of the moon was reflecting so intensely off the ground that he had to avert his vision so that the enhanced sight of the lotus didn’t blind him because of it.

  But now Bryn could tell that the shining light all around them, casting an eerie glow befitting of the two massive souls that hovered gently a few feet before the duo, was due to the sandy terrain that had once been there, being thoroughly baked to glass and violently blasted apart.

  Slowly, Bryn and Neverwinter flew forward, carefully avoiding the valley of jagged glass surrounding them. Looking to the side, his sight distracted by a stray ray of moonlight, Bryn suddenly caught a glimpse of the massive, mostly charred corpse of the Grand Devourer, stopping dead in his tracks.

  His mind immediately went back, yet again, to that fateful afternoon.

  His incredible altitude, with which he’d used to surprise attack the two warring gods, had thrown him off of the sheer absolute size of the field boss.

  Now that he was standing before it, just as Ming had, Bryn found a begrudging sense of respect for the dead ranker, while he himself fiercely fought the urge to shit himself in fear.

  “No wonder rankers can punk Volrab for fun,” he breathed, thoroughly astonished.

  The boss was almost large enough to give the crystal dragon a run for its money in sheer size alone, and it was undoubtedly far more powerful at the mind boggling level of 830. Its head alone was almost as large as the mountain he and Neverwinter had crashed into. The few charred, mutilated and blown up pieces of its body that they could still see, strewn all about, easily dwarfed even the Empire State Building. A faint memory of one of the status pages Bryn had seen upon first waking up on the mountain came surging back to the forefront of his mind.

  At first he’d flippantly disregarded it over the insane boost in levels he’d received, only to then pass out from awakening the Emerald Lotus, but if the ranker wasn’t mistaken, he could’ve sworn the screen had said the fight had gone on for over 17 hours.

  Now, the message ominously tugged at his psyche, refusing to be ignored any further. At first Bryn was incredibly confused. He knew his involvement in the fight couldn’t have gone on for more than 10 or 15 minutes at most. Quickly, his wisdom and intelligence enhanced ranker mind raced over the details of the fight with crystal clarity, playing over every last second of his involvement, confirming his earlier suspicions.

  Slowly, the Fabled Storm Shaman’s eyes widened in shock, his eyebrows threatening to float off his forehead.

  “Ming was fighting this bigass thing alone… for 17 hours?!” he croaked in a now too dry voice, unable to keep down the palpable fear in his tone.

  Neverwinter just silently nodded, also stuck in immense shock, at a rare loss for words.

  A cold sweat dripped down Bryn’s brow. His analytical mind was a mess of emotions. Horror being chief amongst them.

  If a ranker as powerful as Ming, albeit starting with a massive crutch from not fully knowing how to use his divine magic, had been relentlessly assaulting this thing with ranker magic for over 17 hours, yet the most notable thing he’d achieved was pissing it off…

  Bryn forgot how to breathe.

  An armored hand resting on his shoulder, sending a soft jolt of purple electricity through him, finally stirred Bryn from the waking coma his overpowering feeling of hopelessness had threatened to drown him in.

  “Right,” he muttered weakly, nodding a brief thanks to Neverwinter.

  Slowly Bryn floated forward to the gigantic, pale blue orb hovering peacefully before what remained of The Grand Devourer’s massive skull. The field boss’ soul looked to have a mass of ethereal snakes wrapped around it, as if protecting the divine snake’s soul even in death with the last vestiges of the terrifying boss’ wrath.

  Bryn felt an immense weight drop onto his shoulders. Something about being in front of such a powerful soul instinctively demanded his utmost respect and reverence, and he knew immediately it would be disastrous for him to ignore it even if he had no clue why.

  Slowly, he bowed before the massive spirit orb. Reaching out with a solemn right hand, his jeweled appendage made contact with the spirit. Instead of a feeling akin to a cloud like Bryn was expecting, it felt solid, polished, incredibly smooth, yet also scaly…

  Immediately, an immense ripple of power shot through Bryn’s arm, causing him to cry out in agony. The ranker immediately tried to rip his hand away from the soul, but it was wrenched in place. Before he could even utter a word, hundreds upon millions of memories began flooding his brain, somehow forcing his lotus back awake. Though each only stayed for a fraction of a second, his immense wisdom and intelligence stats, plus the 8% all around stat boots the lotus provided, made each feel like they lasted a lifetime. He saw and felt every struggle the boss had ever endured. He knew its every triumph. He tasted every kill and meal the boss had ever eaten and felt every last wound it had endured, even until the final, three way savage explosion of divine magic that had finally killed it. In mere moments, Bryn was forcibly dragged a mile in The Grand Devourer’s proverbial shoes. In no more than 15 seconds, he’d felt the full scope of the thousands of years the field boss had lived for. He saw through the field boss’ own eyes the first rays of light it ever encountered as it hatched from its egg, to the final moments it closed them, right before an inevitable death took it.

  Snapping back to reality, Bryn realized his hand was still pressed firmly to the surface of the soul. Though it was a few more seconds before he noticed the rivers of tears gently flowing down his cheeks. Even his nest of boa constrictors for hair looked visibly depressed, likely from having also experienced the passing of such a great snake. Looking down, a single golden status screen momentarily broke him from the somber mood the flood of memories had put him in.

  “[CONGRATULATIONS FABLED STORM SHAMAN!]

  YOU HAVE COMPLETED THE SECRET QUEST {“KNOW THY ENEMY”} A LEGENDARY 1 TIME ITEM HAS BEEN GIFTED TO YOU BY THE HEAVENS!

  

  Before Bryn could even voice the myriad questions the notification had brought up in his mind to Neverwinter, another even more concerning popup immediately stole his attention.

  “{SECRET CHAIN QUEST}

  FABLED ONE, STORM SHAMAN! FRIEND OF SOULS, LORD OF GOD LIGHTNING AND VIRULENT PLAGUES, WEAVER OF CALAMITY, MASTER OF DEATH AND STORMS, WILL YOU ATTEMPT TO CONSUME THIS SOUL?

  

  

  ”

  Bryn was at a total loss for words. Aghast at the thought of swallowing the soul of a creature whose life he’d robbed, the same life he’d just witnessed through his own eyes, he wasn’t sure he could do it. He wasn’t really sure about anything anymore. With a helpless, pleading look he turned to his only ally, his trusted advisor, for guidance.

  “My Lord Bryn,” Neverwinter began softly, resting an armored hand on his sagging shoulder, “you are a Storm Shaman, you dance with destruction and death. You are a weaver of carnage and sorrow, and yet, at the same time, your lightning bolts protect as much as they destroy.” Her lips curled into a soft smile, “your diseases and pestilences have saved as many lives as they’ve taken, and so will continue to do so I’m sure of it. And now, as a Storm Shaman, you not only wield souls as familiars, you fraternize with them, laugh with them, cry with them, empathize with them. Not only can you weaponize them, but you, and only you alone can lead them. For what end, though, is completely up to you my lord.”

  “But…” his voice came shakily, choking with tears, “but am I worthy?”

  “My lord,” Neverwinter replied gently, with a sorrowful smile, “you have a soul brimming with more power than any would ever conceive possible standing before you, waiting patiently for you to greedily take its power for yourself. None with the power to contest you will ever be aware this event even occurred. No one is here to stop you. And yet, you stop yourself. Instead of greedily lapping at free deific power, even for your morals, even for your comrades, you cry for a slain enemy you have never met before, merely because you saw its memories. Because you felt bad for killing it in a method you deem unworthy. Instead of just taking the power and moving on, you shed tears wondering if you are worthy to even stand before its soul.” She giggled gently, a sound reminiscent of tiny, hollow, chiming death bells. “I think that speaks untold magnitudes of your character, my lord. Be not afraid, trust in your power, as I have come to, as much as I trust in you yourself, my lord, as a Storm Shaman, ranker, wielder, and friend. Trust that whatever you choose, you will do it for the betterment of those around you, those who put their faith in you, not for your own arrogance.”

  “I-I,” Bryn stammered. Failing for words, he smiled gently, thankfully as new tears began streaming freely down his cheeks. “Thank you, Neverwinter,” he whispered.

  Silently she smiled as she nodded in return.

  “Go get'em tiger,” she chuckled softly, lightly grabbing his soldiers giving them a slight squeeze.

  Bryn laughed gently in spite of himself. Wiping his tears with his other hand, he turned back to the hand still pressed firmly against the surface of The Grand Devourer’s soul.

  “Grand Devourer,” he said aloud in a firm voice, “I apologize for the underhanded way in which I brought about the end of such a powerful and majestic being.”

  His head hung for a moment in shame, the immense weight of leadership from his emerald crown came crashing back down upon him. But now, the embers that Neverwinter’s words had ignited in his soul began to surge like a mighty flame. Straining every divine muscle in his neck, he fought against the weight of expectation, the weight of his own inadequacies and sins, and stared the soul head on.

  “I do not deign to act as if I understand the magnitude of consuming a soul such as powerful as a field boss’, nor do I attempt to believe that I understand the full extent of what it even means to be a Storm Shaman, much less a fabled one,” he said with absolute reverence, “but if you will forgive my faults, if you will bestow your power upon me, then I will bestow mine upon you. As your shaman and summoner. I swear to use it to protect the meek and the weak. To wield it in a way that brings glory to your name as The Grand Devourer.”

  A great weight settled upon the landscape. Bryn had no idea why, but it suddenly felt as if the very stars themselves, as numerous and distant as they were, were suddenly intensely watching him and watching the soul of The Grand Devourer. Everything grew very still. For what felt like eons, nothing happened, all of the Deific Planes themselves seemed to also hold a collective breath. Until, strangely, the yes option seemed to begin to glow with the same purple energy Bryn had seen emanating from both the halo and maw of the massive boss right before it unleashed its final attack.

  “No fucking way…” he breathed, eyes wide as saucers. With infinite caution and care, he immediately brought his left hand to the status screen before him and as gently as he could, tapped on the “yes” icon.

  Slowly, the massive soul orb broke apart, bursting into an endless shower of orbs of light, shining a myriad of colors. For a moment they hung in the air, all around Bryn and Neverwinter, until they began to flow into Bryn’s body. Slowly at first, but soon the trillions of orbs of light began zooming towards the ranker, slamming themselves into him with incredible force, but Bryn felt no pain. Instead, a warm feeling started to grow inside of the ranker. Instinctively, Bryn felt himself retreat into his soul, to where he’d long since learnt his dual arcane cores resided within him. The ranker still saw the two massive planetoids of divine storm and death affinities within him, but now, each of them held a massive ring around them. Scaly rings… that looked eerily like twin massive snakes biting their tails in their mouths.

  “Ouroboros?” his ethereal form whispered questioningly, thoroughly confused at what he was seeing.

  ‘Indeed, Shaman,’ a deep, rumbling voice that felt like cascading earthquakes called out from behind him, ‘or… perhaps, I should call you master now?’

  Slowly, Bryn’s ethereal body turned around, and promptly began screaming uncontrollably.

  Behind him, was the unbelievably massive… Grand Devourer?

  But how had it entered his soul or wherever it was that Bryn’s cores were kept?

  And… why did it look so different?

  Instead of the regal Silver and crimson scales the boss had adorning its unfathomably huge body while it was alive, it now instead looked like a massive snake skeleton. Black lightning filled the skeleton, making it appear as a titanic lightning serpent wearing the green exoskeleton of another snake in the form of some kind of morbid armor.

  “Grand Devourer?” Bryn asked hesitantly.

  ‘Yes my lord, it is the Grand Devourer, although now that it has fused with your fabled ranker cores, it is more accurately the Skeletal Charged Devourer,’ Neverwinter’s voice replied, as she too suddenly appeared inside Bryn’s soul, causing the nerve frayed ranker’s ethereal body to shriek in fear, jumping away.

  ‘I hope he doesn’t scream in fear this often,’ the massive snake said unimpressed, ‘it’s unbecoming of one such as my shaman.’

  ‘Our lord is still just adjusting to his new powers,’ Neverwinter replied, waving a gloved hand, ‘besides Devourer, you know his heart and soul now as well, so you should know he’s usually a capable leader.’

  A sudden sound of twin roaring dragons, voicing their agreement reverberated through Bryn’s soul realm as the ethereal, tiny forms of Igni and Modi suddenly appeared. Shooting towards Bryn, they immediately took to their favorite perches on the ranker’s shoulders, mewing and roaring their opinions to the gigantic snake in defense of their shaman. Even his mass of snake hair turned as one and hissed at the massive snake, voicing their agreements. It was then that Bryn realized, with a jolt, that they had changed from blue boa constrictors, to blue versions of the Grand Devourer.

  A thundering series of booms shook Bryn’s soul like a horrifying series of cascading magnitude 10 earthquakes. Immediately, the ranker thought he was under attack, until he slowly began to realize, it was just the massive snake chuckling.

  ‘You’re an interesting one, Storm Shaman,’ the Skeletal Charged Devourer boomed, in its thundering voice, ‘heavy is the head that bears the crown, and yet, look at how your familiars rush to defend your name as if you were Honos, himself.’

  The massive deity snake spoke with mirth and sarcasm, but there was a palpable, underlying sense of respect as well.

  ‘Very well then, I will serve you, after all I’ve already bound myself to you’ the Skeletal Charged Devourer relented, ‘and it doesn’t hurt to have a fabled one as my shaman. I am deeply intrigued at how powerful I will get when you fully manifest the power of the Emerald Court.’

  “Thank you,” Bryn replied graciously, bowing to the titanic snake boss. Then his brow furrowed deeply.

  “Wait, what do you mean I’ll end up making you stronger by unlocking more fabled abilities? You know about the Emerald Court? What even is it?”

  The Skeletal Charged Devourer blinked slowly.

  ‘Seriously?’ it asked perplexed. Turning to Neverwinter it went on, ‘I thought you were supposed to be his guide, Named Weapon. Did you teach him nothing? How has he even gotten this far? Wait a minute… HOW THE HELL DID HE KILL ME, WITHOUT EVEN KNOWING HE COULD USE FABLED ENHANCEMENT ON HIS SUMMONS?!’

  Bryn’s soul shook from the tremors resounding off from the boss snake’s confusion and rage.

  Neverwinter had a sour expression on her ethereal face.

  ‘Well excuuuuse me, grand piece of shit,’ she snapped back spitefully, ‘I was literally given sentience 3 days ago and I have been dutifully helping and guiding our lord before he even ascended! AND! How dare you act all high and mighty, when you got killed by someone who wasn’t even a ranker for a full day?!’

  She spat in the space before the massive snake, before giving it an armored middle finger, then folding her ethereal arms with a pout.

  ‘Dumbass,’ she muttered darkly.

  “I can use Fabled Enhancement… on my summons…?” Bryn muttered in a small, lost voice.

  The Skeletal Charged Devourer was too stunned to speak.

  ‘You lie sword, less than a day? Seriously?’

  The ranker wasn’t sure what an existential crisis looked like for snakes, but he could tell that the massive snake boss was definitely experiencing one.

  ‘A,’ Neverwinter began holding up an armored finger, ‘my lord named me Neverwinter, you know this snake. I will not tolerate any further disrespect.’

  Her blade made of the god storm I'Ieravnos’ purple lightning manifested in her left hand, crackling angrily. The icy winds of the god storm Fimbulwinter began blowing through Bryn’s soul, whipping around Neverwinter’s fiery hair into a frenzy and the sickly, ozone smell of the River Styx that Bryn recalled from when he and Alan had gathered its waters to quench Neverwinter, began to permeate around them.

  She then stuck up a second armored finger with her right hand. It was her middle finger again.

  “And dos, that just goes to show the majesty of our Lord Bryn,’ she said haughtily, turning her nose up to the devourer as her divine powers crested to a dangerous peak, ‘even as a mere newbie ranker, he’s still strong enough to hang with the best of them and send your sorry ass packing back to the dead worlds.’

  ‘Yes… that makes sense,’ the Skeletal Charged Devourer reasoned to itself, attempting to calm itself down from its immense grief and stress, while seemingly ignoring Neverwinter’s display of force, ‘and being absorbed by him still evolved me to this new form. And he still is a fabled one…’

  The massive snake gave a great sigh that felt to Bryn like typhoons were tearing through his soul. Beating down the great, god killing winds of Fimbulwinter that Neverwinter had manifested.

  ‘I apologize for my insolence … Neverwinter…’ the Skeletal Charged Devourer apologized relentingly.

  Neverwinter simply gave a great harumph, and turned her back to the great snake while dispelling her powers. Yet Bryn eerily noted, she did not dispel her sword of god lightning. Igni and Modi flew to her shoulders and blew raspberries at the giant snake before they too, turned away from it.

  “Oi oi, guys,” Bryn chastised his Black Gem summons, “be nice to the big guy, I only managed to kill them because it was a sneak attack anyway. Yeah my magical output may be ludicrous, but I’d still get dusted by a few too many hits ‘cause of my ass tier defense.”

  Bowing to the great snake again, Bryn extended his hand in an offer of companionship.

  The boss said nothing for what felt like ages. Sizing up the comparably far smaller ranker with great incomprehensible interest.

  ‘Perhaps,’ it began slowly, ‘I judged you too harshly. Thank you for your consideration… my lord.’

  Bryn smiled and just waved a hand.

  Turning to Neverwinter he asked a question that had been on his mind ever since he’d seen the massive snake in his soul realm.

  “So… how do we make him a Black Gem summon?”

  ‘Well,’ she replied, still obviously annoyed, ‘I wasn’t going to allow this sore loser the honor of being blessed by my lord’s Black Gems, due to his shitty attitude, but since he has repented, and my lord wishes it so in his infinite and much undeserved gratitude… I guess I can make an exception.’

  ‘What do you mean by a Black Gem summon?’ the Skeletal Charged Devourer asked cautiously.

  ‘WHAT?!’ Neverwinter mimed mockingly back at the massive snake, ‘YOU MEAN YOU’VE BEEN A FLOOR BOSS FOR HOW LONG?! AND YOU’VE NEVER HEARD OF A BLACK GEM?! DO YOU EVEN KNOW ANYTHING?!’

  A low growl began to emanate from the evolved boss. Its massive halo, that had now become a ring of bones, began to glow with a familiar purple light.

  Bryn had no idea what would happen if a fight between two of his divine familiars were to break out, especially within his soul, but he wasn’t keen to find out. Rushing in between the two ethereal deities arms outstretched, he addressed the devourer’s question.

  “Before I ascended, some self important, masked asshat in a yellow suit said Neverwinter would be receiving a blessing from the heavens for being the first Named Weapon created by a ranker of my species, and when we awoke, three Black Gems from the Obsidian Court were embedded into her,” he hurriedly explained, “they allow 3 of my familiars to have an empowered summoned battle state and also to get a new gem empowered skill they can share with me.”

  ‘Masked man… golden suit?’ the massive snake asked to no one in particular. Its hackles raised as the boss hissed in rage, sending another torrent of air whipping through Bryn’s soul, ‘the Astral Net!’

  “Hey that’s what he said too!” Bryn called out excitedly, “but what exactly is the Astral Net?”

  ‘That will take too long to explain, my lord,’ the devourer sighed regretfully, calming itself down from its immense, sudden anger, ‘and if I’m not wrong, the soul of the Hellish Blood Emperor is about to disappear.’

  “Oh shit!” Bryn exclaimed, snapping back to the physical world.

Recommended Popular Novels