by Dante King
“That’s true,” I said, musing over this issue. “I can’t give up the Dragon Sword. Maybe Grave Oath? I don’t use it nearly as much as I used to. No, that won’t work. The enemy would find it suspicious if the actor was wearing my full plate armor, but was using a mere dagger as a primary weapon. Hmm … it’ll have to be the kusarigama. As much as I love the weapon, this illusion requires that I give it to the actor.”
“If it’s any consolation, you’ll be wielding it in battle, just through someone else’s hands,” Anna-Lucielle said. “Even though it’ll look like the actor’s doing it, you’re the one who’s ultimately going to be in control.”
“I know, it’s just a pity to hand over such a powerful weapon.” I sighed. “Still, nothing great is ever achieved without making sacrifices. This is the only way I can save Brakith and get to Elandriel and the Blood Pyramid before it’s too late.”
“And speaking of lateness and time, you need to give everyone your orders soon, Vance,” Isu said.
“I will. First, though, there’s a place I need to visit.”
I went off to be alone for a while, but not to rest or think. Instead, I needed to visit a place no one in my party but Isu had access to. When I was by myself in the shadows of a grove of trees, I closed my eyes and launched my spirit into another dimension.
When I opened my eyes again, I was on the Black Plane. Its perfectly flat, glassy black ground stretched outward in all directions from me, melting into the uniform darkness where it met the far horizons.
After a running start, I jumped into a flying leap. My body soared through the still, unearthly air like a boulder launched from a trebuchet. I landed smoothly on the forgiving surface before I rolled acrobatically in a controlled tumble and came up near the base of the enormous Gray Sentinel.
I’d surely accrued enough souls after the battle with the harpy flock to have gained access to a new skill. I was eager to pluck whatever magical fruit was waiting ripe and ready for me in the upper boughs of the tree.
I clambered up the sentinel, jumping from branch to branch and scrambling up the trunk with eager haste. Sure enough, at the very top of the tree, a new skill was glowing with bright promise. All I had to do was reach the top and rip this succulent promise from the branch.
As I climbed higher up the tree, I could discern the new skill more clearly. When it came into focus, something about it immediately struck me as odd.
Up until now, every skill I’d taken from the Gray Sentinel had something to do with death and the undead. The representations of these skills were accompanied by appropriately obvious images: skulls, corpse explosions, corpse titans, and other such grisly visual motifs. This new skill, though, was nothing like these at all.
Instead, it was a crown.
A crown made of bone, studded all over with vividly colored jewels. I climbed higher, and when I got a closer look at the bone crown, I could see the details more clearly.
The jewels embedded in the crown were not simply there for decoration—they were intricately carved into symbols. There was the pulsing heart of the Charm Goddess, the whirling tornado of the Wind Goddess, the emerald dragon of the Dragon Goddess, the mighty tree of the Tree God, the blazing sun of the Lord of Light, the crashing wave of the Water God, and many others.
It was when I saw these symbols that I understood what this crown represented. This was not a new skill; I had obtained the pinnacle of Death magic with the Corpse Titan skill. Instead, this final fruit was something far bigger: it would make me the ruler of all the other gods and goddesses, giving me mastery of their powers.
“Fuck yes, I’ll take that,” I said, scrambling eagerly up the final few branches.
I reached the fruit and examined the glowing bone crown in detail, savoring this moment before I could finally pluck and consume the ultimate fruit. It was ripe and heavy, like a swollen apple ready to drop off the tree at the slightest hint of a breeze.
All I had to do to claim ultimate power was take it.
“All right, I’ve appreciated this thing’s beauty for long enough,” I said.
And then I grabbed it.
As ripe and heavy a piece of fruit as it looked, the crown simply wouldn’t budge. I wrapped my legs around the branch beneath me and grabbed it with both hands, then pulled as hard as I could. Still it refused to move.
Growing annoyed and impatient, I drew Grave Oath, for the enchanted dagger always accompanied me to the Black Plane. I hacked at the stem that anchored the fruit to the branch, but as sharp as Grave Oath was, I may as well have been trying to cut thick plate armor with a blunt butter knife.
The crown simply wouldn’t budge.
Then, in a flash of inspiration, I understood. The bone crown was not like the other skills I’d taken from the Gray Sentinel. I could feed the tree any number of souls, but the crown still wouldn’t budge. It wasn’t just any soul this mystical tree needed before it would allow the crown to be plucked.
It was the Blood God’s soul.
Once I’d defeated him and taken his soul, the bone crown—which would make me ruler of all the other gods—would be mine.
“You win today, Gray Sentinel,” I said, patting the rough gray bark softly and affectionately. “But I will return for this crown. I give you the Blood God’s soul, and you make me ruler of all the other gods. It’s a hefty price tag, but I’ll gladly pay it.”
Now that I knew that there were no more skills for me to take but this one, whatever other souls I fed the tree would be irrelevant, at least in terms of skills. However, the tree could now serve me in a different capacity: it would be a bank for me, a bank of souls. In addition to the power I was able to draw from my undead troops, in moments of dire need I would be able to draw additional power from the Gray Sentinel here on the Black Plane.
“I might as well take some right now,” I said, stabbing Grave Oath into the trunk. Like a lightning rod catching a bolt from a thunderstorm, liquid power jolted through the dagger and coursed through my body, and I could feel myself swelling with new strength and unadulterated power. The feeling was exhilarating and intense, a more potent high than any drug could give me. I drank of the power until, like a bloated tick, I felt as if I was on the verge of exploding.
“All right,” I said, breathing hard from the intensity of it as I pulled Grave Oath out of the trunk. “Now I’m ready for the final battle.”
Before I could leap to the ground, another thing came to my mind. The primary role of gods before me was to make Fated of the mortals in this world. I had done so with Rollar and Cranton, but I could also do it with others. These souls that filled the Gray Sentinel could be used for this purpose. I could make Fated warriors. And that was something I very much planned to do in my final battle.
With a contented smile on my face, I swan-dived out of the tree and hurtling earthward. The split-second before I hit the ground, I was back in the physical world.
Burning with ethereal fire and furious determination, I walked out of the trees toward my party, every stride imbued with purpose, ready to take on my mortal enemies in the mother of all battles.
Chapter Sixteen
I gazed into the crystalline pool near our camp and took a good look at my reflection. I was wearing the same gear I’d been wearing way back when I’d first set out on this journey: my trusty lightweight assassin’s armor. As it had been when I’d stepped into the crypt from which I’d freed Isu’s spirit, Grave Oath was in its sheath on my hip.
The only visual differences now were the Tree God’s mini crossbow on my wrist, the Dragon Gauntlets on my hands, and the Dragon Sword strapped to my back. The rugged-featured face staring back at me from the mirror-like surface of the water was the same, but a new vigor and determination burned brightly in the eyes that stared back at me.
I was going back to my roots for this final mission, but I would never be the same. How could I, now that I was not only the God of Death, but on the verge of becoming the ruler of all the other gods?
> “We’re ready to march, Lord Vance,” Rollar interrupted these thoughts of mine. “Well, fly.”
“All right, Rollar,” I said. “I’ll be with you all shortly.”
I bent down and took a long drink of the cool, clear water, then walked over to my party. The sun was setting, and its reflection burned like magma, shimmering in brilliant hues of orange and red on the surface of the mountain lake.
I closed my eyes, but saw no darkness behind my eyelids. Instead, I saw the world through the eyes of Talon, leading my army of undead harpies. In their hundreds, the undead beasts swooped in an enormous loop, a circle that, from afar, would have looked like boiling storm clouds over the distant ocean. Now that the sun was setting and darkness would soon fall, I was ready to fly the army over harpies in from the sea and bring them onto land under cover of night.
In preparation for the pickup, my party and I had hiked up into some nearby mountains. The harpies would pick up my party members and fly them through the night across the land. They would roost during the day, and my party would sleep, and keep flying every night until they reached Brakith, which would take a few days.
I, on the other hand, would be heading off in another direction. Riding on Fang with me would be Friya and Yumo-Rezu, the only two members of my party who would be accompanying me on the mission to Luminescent Spires. We needed stealth and cunning to break into the deepest and most secure vaults of Luminescent Spires. I would have ventured there on my own if I hadn’t needed the pair of them to resurrect the dragon once I obtained the Dragon Heart.
When I looked at the group of people assembled in front of me, my heart swelled with pride. These men and women had been with me through thick and thin. Not once had any of them ever given me any less than their very best. We’d fought battles, traveled across the length and breadth of the world, killed monsters, and defeated some of the mightiest opponents.
“We’re about to part ways, my friends,” I said to them, making sure they could hear my pride in them with every syllable I uttered. “It’s been a hell of a ride so far, and we’re about to face a fiercer battle than any we’ve had to fight before. Even though we’re facing almost insurmountable odds against us, I know that I can count on each and every one of you to keep fighting and giving it your all until the very end. Before me, I see a collection of the bravest, fiercest, and most noble warriors ever assembled in Prand. Time and time again, you all have proved your worth, and I couldn’t think of a group of people I’d rather have fighting by my side in the coming battle, the outcome of which will forever change this world of ours. Make no mistake, in the coming fight, everything depends on us winning. Who the hell would have thought that the God of Death and his followers would be fighting for the fate of the living? It’s a sign of strange and uncertain times when the world has to look to Death for salvation from a threat to the existence of everything … but as crazy as everything is right now, I can’t think of a group of people I’d rather put the fate of the world in.”
“We’ll keep fighting until we breathe our very last, Lord Vance!” Rollar roared, raising his war hammer to the sky. Everyone cheered their agreement.
“Speaking of fate,” I said. “There are some of you who will become Fated tonight.” I reached for Grave Oath and unsheathed it. “Drok?”
A look of awe and disbelief came across the massive barbarian’s face. For this potent but simple warrior, becoming Fated was something I suspected he’d never imagined for himself, not in his wildest dreams.
“Lord Vance asked you a question, my Northern brother,” Rollar said to him, grinning. “What say you?!”
“Me … Fated?!” Drok murmured, staring at me as if I’d just shifted into the form of a one-eyed goblin, or whatever passed for a beautiful woman in his twisted mind … or both.
“Yes, you big dumb cave troll, Fated!” I said. “Last chance Drok, do you want to become Fated or not?”
“Y-, yes, yes, yes!” he blurted out, jumping up and down and laughing with childlike glee. “Me become Fated, me become Fated!”
“That’s what I like to hear,” I said.
I needed a receptacle for acid, so I fetched my helm from my suit of plate armor. The Death-enchanted steel wouldn’t be eaten away by the corrosive substance.
I scooped some water from the lake into the helm, then passed my hand over it, feeling a surge of power race through me. The water hissed and steamed, and soon tendrils of caustic mist were rising from the clear liquid, which had turned into powerful acid.
The whiff of Drok’s stench almost knocked me to my feet when I stepped up to him, standing far closer than I usually did to the towering barbarian. I figured I needed to hold my breath for the rest of the ceremony.
“You understand that with this gift comes great responsibility, right?” I said, trying not to gag from the stink. “I do not hand out such gifts half-heartedly. From the moment you become Fated, Drok, you will be bound to me. Not as a slave, of course; you will always have your own free will, and you will always be able to make your own decisions. However, I expect you to serve me with loyalty and honor, and to bring your axe to battle and war whenever it is needed. Do you swear to serve me faithfully, with honor and courage, from now until the end of your days?”
“My axe and blood yours, until I die,” Drok said solemnly, holding his axe in front of me with both palms raised to the sky, in the tradition of his people when swearing fealty to a chief.
He didn’t need to say anything else; his sincerity was written plainly across his face.
“That is all I ask.” I tightened my grip on Grave Oath’s hilt and felt its Death magic coursing through me, turning my hands and fingers as hard as steel, and imbuing them with my dagger’s deadly sharpness. “Then, by the power of Death, I make you … Fated.”
Before Drok could say anything else or even react in any way, I slammed my hand, which was flat and sharp, like a spear blade, through his huge chest and gripped his heart. His tiny, pig-like eyes bulged with shock and agony as I ripped his beating out of his chest. The bloody organ pumped between my fingers before I dropped it into the acid-filled helm. He gasped and staggered backward, stranded temporarily in the shadow realm between life and death, watching with terrified disbelief as the acid hissed and seethed around his beating heart.
As soon as the heart had turned black, I pulled it out of the acid and shoved it back into the gaping, bloody cavity in Drok’s chest. He roared out an ear-shattering howl, but it was not simply a cry of pain or fear.
It was a roar of new power.
The wound in his chest started to close up, but it didn’t take long. The Death magic tearing through him healed the gash completely in a matter of seconds. The only trace of the damage my spear-like hand had done was a few blood splatters on his grubby skin.
“Drok feel … stronger!” he roared, his eyes glowing with fresh vitality and potency.
I chuckled and nodded. “Oh yes, my barbarian friend, you’re gonna feel stronger than you ever have in your life. And you’re not only stronger; now you have the ability to raise skeletons and zombies of your own. Not to mention every enemy you kill will make you stronger. And, what’s even better is that your kills will add to my power too.”
“Drok get skeletons, Drok get zombies, Drok get skeletons, Drok get zombies!” Drok yelled gleefully, hopping up and down and waving his massive arms around with excitement.
In the background, Isu was observing all of this with a tightly drawn face and a strange gleam in her eye. She had once been in my position. Long ago, she had plunged her hand into my chest, ripping out my heart and turning it black.
The expression on Isu’s face presently was unreadable. Was she regretting that moment, which had steered her down a path, the end of which had lain the loss of her divinity? Or was she simply feeling some sort of bittersweet nostalgia for her days as Goddess of Death?
There was, of course, another possibility.
She was watching me with pride. After all, I
had come further and grown more powerful than she could have ever imagined. Her eyes met mine, and her luscious lips curved into a subtle smile, making me suspect that this was indeed the case.
I took a few steps away from Drok, who was still jumping around like an overstimulated child, and closed my eyes. With a flick of my will, my spirit transferred to the Black Plane.
Sprouting from the glassy black surface of this mysterious place was a new gray tree, alongside those belonging to Isu, Cranton, and Rollar: Drok’s necromantic tree.
I walked up to the Gray Sentinel with Grave Oath in my hand. The supernatural tree was still overflowing with power, so sticking my dagger into its trunk was unnecessary. As for me, making Drok Fated had barely made a dent in my energy and power. I’d come a long way since the first time I’d tried this, back when I’d made Cranton Fated, which had made me feel pretty drained.
“All right,” I whispered to myself before launching my spirit back into my body in the physical realm. “Let’s add a few more Death warriors to my party…”
“Ji-Ko!” I said. “You and your monks have served me faithfully, and although the men of your order do not serve out of any desire for a reward, I feel like you deserve one. What do you and your boys think of becoming Fated?”
“Fated, God of Death?” Ji-Ko murmured, a look of disbelief coming across his face. “Such a thing would be a great honor, but we humble monks are not deserving of such power.”
“Maybe you think so, but I don’t,” I said. “I want to make you all Fated. All that I ask is your loyalty.”
“You already have that, God of Death; you are the prophesied one. The oath we all took when each of us blinded ourselves binds us to you. As long as our hearts beat within our chests, we serve you.”
“Well, how about I make those loyal hearts of yours black, and give you more strength than you could have ever dreamed of? And, what’s more, doing this will restore your sight in a way. You’ll be able to use the eyes of your zombies and skeletons as your own. I realize that you and your monks took a vow of blindness, but this isn’t exactly breaking it, seeing as you won’t be seeing through your own eyes, technically speaking. So, what do you say?”