by Wolfe Locke
Completely exhausted, Luca let himself give into hopelessness. He was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was too weak to even escape from under the body that pinned him in place. The only option he had left was to wait for the sweet embrace of death to take him.
With dawn on the horizon, Luca lay delirious and barely clinging to life. Nearby Luca thought he heard the sounds of people calling out searching for survivors. In a haze, Luca watched in fear before ultimately deciding his desire to live was stronger than his fear of dying. Monsters or not, delirious or not, Luca decided to answer the call.
"Here. Help me," Luca croaked with a raspy voice near-mute from dryness. "Please, save me; I’m trapped. I don’t want to die. I need help."
But the voices didn't turn toward him. Luca heard the footsteps walking away, and their voices became harder to make out. Luca broke down into his last cry, an anguished wail of hopelessness.
"Hey, do you hear that, Dale? It sounds like somebody is crying over there. They might be trapped; let's check it out," said a masculine voice.
Somewhat strengthened by the realization he might be saved, Luca shouted as loud as he could, a rattle more than a shout that came out as little more than a whisper. The effort was doing damage to his vocal cords, but he hoped it would do. "I'm over here; please help me."
"Hey Pat, it's coming from that car over there," said Dale, his voice raised with concern as he moved toward the car. "Sounds like a kid. Let’s do this. He probably needs our help. You know if it was one of our kids, we would want someone to help them."
For the first time in days, Luca felt hope that he would get to live after all. He was saved.
*****************
Seraph woke up in a cold sweet to find the Ancient Monster peering down at him. I had forgotten how helpless I had been back then. "Now that this body is finished," said the monster, "we just have to swap your consciousness into it.”
"Wait!" yelled Seraph as the monster attached a tentacle to his head and another to the head of the body he was transferring into, "What about the body I have, Luca’s body? I made a promise."
"I’m aware of the promise you made, Seraph, my master does not leave me uninformed. The body will be unharmed, and I assure you it will be well cared for. The spirit of your younger self will be returned to it to rest and repair."
"Alright," replied Seraph, hesitant but hopeful, a lingering fear in his mind of his shadow self. Before they could continue, Seraph reached into his inventory and pulled out Ajana’s Wrath and tried as he could to mentally speak to the spirit of the weapon. “I’m leaving you here, watch out for him.”
A tentacle latched onto the monstrous patchwork angel on the table while another latched onto Seraph’s head as the worst pain he’d ever felt spread through his body, a pain like his entire soul was being siphoned and torn away.
"Effectively yes, that’s it entirely," admitted the monster as it nonchalantly read his thoughts and reached for a glowing silver vial that held the other portion of Seraph’s soul and injected it into the left behind husk. The vial holding the part of his soul that was stolen by the spirit Amarath to create the thing that Seraph had become. His humanity.
Chapter 50: Through The Portal
Seraph rolled off the table effortlessly as his new body surged with dark power, a power he had forgotten he possessed, intoxicating and amazing, further supplemented by the Bloodline ability he had received from the Demon Prince, and because he had traded bodies, the Bloodline was linked to his soul and carried with him.
Notification: Original Form Regained
Details: You have regained the original body of the Black Seraph. All previous upgrades, abilities, and items have not transferred.
Notification: False Reincarnation
Details: Though you have regained the original body of the Black Seraph, it is not a perfect recovery, as such you will suffer a 30% debuff in all stats.
Name
Luca Fernandez
Race
Aliases
Black Seraph, Angel of Genocide, The Accuser, Tyrant
Primordial Seraphim
Passives
Body of Black Steel
Reflective Aura
Power Incarnate
Charisma of the Overlord
Tyrant’s Boon
False Reincarnation
Abilities
Luminaire – (1849 - 100,000)
Heroic Guard – (12,984 - 1,000,000)
Summon Legendary Monster (544,000 – 1,000,000)
Glacial Shard (45,058 – 1,000,000)
Liquify (85,480 – 1,000,000)
Purge the Weak (42,490 – 10,000,000)
Hellfire Prison (74,194 – 100,000)
Tri-Elemental Bolt (341,048 – 1,000,000)
Level
Current Unassigned Stat Points
29
302 of 999
Current Experience
191,402 of 2,934,000
STR
7961
INT
3945
AGI
4018
WIS
5963
LCK
575
PHY
7*
END
6130
PER
2884
SOL
$194810*
Seraph went over his old status sheet, more than satisfied with the power he now had, though he regretted the debuff. 30% of absolute power remained near absolute. It would have to be enough.
“Do not fail Seraph,” The monster advised gravely. “None of us will have a second chance.” The monster turned away from Seraph to work on Luca’s body as it began to cast healing magic and weave its many hands in sigils that glowed with power. “Luca will be fine, but you will not be. This body is unstable. It will fail.”
With a nod to the ancient entity, Seraph jumped back through the portal to rejoin the battlefield just in time to witness Adramelech collapse under the sheer mass of the pressing mob of monsters that crowded around him and relentlessly attacked. The ground beneath the Prince of Fire was treacherous as he spewed flames from its mouth and the blood hotter than hellfire that dripped from its wounds.
The blood fell in huge droplets that hissed as soon it hit the stones. Melting the stone and charring it black as the Prince of Fire roared and tried to get back up as more and more of the monsters piled on. I have to help him, Seraph thought as he spread his wings and flew across the battlefield as the black steel skin glistened and thrummed with power.
But Adramelech was not Seraph, and unlike Seraph, the demon was bound by the rules of the dungeon and collapsed once more with a defiant roar and died as a group numbering in the dozens of monsters Seraph had never seen before thrust hooks into the demon’s flesh and pulled, crippling the demon as a large Infernal brandished a eldritch sword and brought it down in a cleaving blow the separated the demon’s head from its body. Adramelech disappeared in a blaze of light as it was reabsorbed by the dungeon, forced to wait for respawn after the death of his body. The demon doesn’t have his old power, Seraph realized, wondering how the Prince had been beaten.
Regardless, Seraph had his own mission to handle and the rift to the ruined future from whence these monsters were able to travel from remained open and from out of the rift poured an endless hordes from the blighted world. I need to go there, Seraph told himself as he prepared an ability. The ground below the monsters began to glow with arcane light and radiant crimson as Seraph channeled his Tri-Elemental ability before releasing it against them.
The Infernals hissed in pain and collapsed a wall of Hellfire spawned into existence around them, channeling the very flames of the hell from which the ability was named as ropes of flame lashed out and bound them as it burned.
Seraph flew forward towards the rift, leaving the burning mass of monsters behind him. But just in case, I need to do something, in a fit of inspiration, he punched downward straight into the flo
or.
The sheer power of the blow causes the stone to break and fracture, while in other spots jagged shards erupt out of the ground as part of the ceiling caved in, sealing Seraph, and the rift within. It would not last forever, but it would have to last long enough to stall the Wormwood invasion. It was the only option Seraph really had, and without waiting to see if it had worked, he flew through the portal.
Chapter 51: The Other Side
Seraph fell out of the rift and barreled through the air before correcting course and guided himself to the ground, his feet landing heavy on the wood planks of the auditorium floor, his wings disappearing into the green mist that his body was immune to He looked at his newly acquired wings with a fondness and though they didn't work quite as good as they had before, the ability to fly returned to him.
Like riding a bike there are just some things you never forget, he thought as he walked around examining the auditorium and looked around. Seraph felt a sense of unease as he looked around the empty building and adding to his unease was a hole in the ceiling that showed the night sky. A sky completely devoid of life. An endless dark expanse with not a single star in the sky to behold.
From deep within him, Seraph heard the whisper of Amarath through the Black Emblem. Wormwood was only the beginning. Aeon will consume all things if we fail here. The chance to prevent this has cost everything, we cannot fall. We must close the rift and return least we become trapped.
Seraph nodded as he looked up into that dark sky. What bothered Seraph most though was the complete lack of monsters near the entry point. Seraph, there is more than one rift, explained the dungeon spirit. They do not all end in the same location, I have done what I can to ensure your survival. Had we arrived within the millions, you even as you are would have been killed. You are not the most powerful being here.
As the dungeon spirit explained, Seraph began to hear a buzzing in his ears, as the vibrations of moving shuffling feet began to reverberate, causing the building to creak and groan before it stopped. They are passing through the rift Seraph, but they cannot all go at the same time. They will not stop until every creature that belongs to Aeon has passed through the rift until Aeon himself comes.
Seraph nodded, understanding what Amarath was trying to say, this was to be a final battle. Seraph reached into his pocket and checked his inventory, hoping along with the body, he had inherited all of the items he had previously owned.
The items he had worn to battle in his previous life had been destroyed in the battle, but they were not his only items. He had after all been the leader of Carrion Crow and had an arsenal at his disposal.
The first artifact he reached for was the Ancient Armor of the Glacial Fish, it was not as impressive as some of the other armors at his disposal, but it had two characteristics that he felt would be needed, the first was a thorns type magical enchantment that returned damage on his attackers, and the second was an activated effect that cleansed him of any status effects. Particularly stuns, immobilizes, and holds. He had no intention of going out the same way Adramelech had.
The next artifact he reached for was called the Knight’s Collar. A protective armament that went around his neck that was indestructible. It had no other effects but should prevent decapitations.
The last artifact he reached for was his personal favorite, and one he had not taken with him into the last battle. The Tyrant’s Crown, and as he put it on, the sharp barbs bit down into his skull, granting him an aura that granted a portion of his power to those who obeyed him. This he would need for after.
Next, he needed a weapon, and though the Spear had long been his favorite, he did not have access to the quality he required. Instead, he opted for a more recent weapon that had become a quick favorite of his, a clawed gauntlet. Seraph reached into his inventory and pulled out the Dragon’s Claw, and as he set it on his wrist, he saw the edges of the bladed fingers glow red with the inner fire of dragon’s breath.
“Amarath,” Seraph asked quietly, hoping the dungeon spirit would hear him. “Has Sadie been revived yet? I know Garen took her to you.”
A tired voice answered in response within his mind. I no longer have the power within me to revive her. Not because of our travel to the past, but because all of the lower floors have been taken and corrupted. Most of the Demon Princes have been slain and await respawn themselves. Even then it is unknown if I could revive her. As you know, she renounced her immortality, and choices must always be honored. Not even I can defy that.
Seraph thought of the dungeon’s words for a moment and clenched his jaw. “You may be forced to honor that decision, but I will not.” Once more, Seraph reached into his inventory and pulled out a flaming pinion of a Phoenix, one of the many he had collected during his past life, a legendary item found only within the Phoenix Refugee. “Anyone who dies within your dungeon joins with you, is this not the case? Take the feather and make sure it gets to her.”
Amarath answered I will make sure the Phoenix Feather finds its way to her. In a flash of light, the flaming pinion disappeared, absorbed into the Black Emblem.
From outside the building came a sound of a million voices screaming as one and the vibrations intensified. Even you as you are now, even if you were still at your peak would be unable to face that whole horde. Commented the dungeon spirit. Their number is endless, to face them is surely death as you had learned within the Locum Malificar.
Ignoring the spirit’s warning, Seraph sliced his hand open and uttered the words, “Summon Legendary Monster”. In response to his command, an arcane circle of red appeared beneath him where the blood dropped, and from within the circle a dark void appeared that rapidly spread to cover most of the auditorium. A dark portal that connected this world to another, the Nether Realm, and from within that realm, Seraph called forth his oldest vassal. The King of Nightmares.
As more blood poured from the wound on his hand, a symbol appeared within the portal. The symbol of the school of conjuration and it flashed with purple light and formed an inscribed pentagon with the blood that Seraph had fed into the spell as his power and life force called forth the Nightmare that was bound to him.
From within the circle, a cloud of grey poisonous smoke rose up, a smoke that Seraph knew killed all life that touched it, except for him, the essence of the Nether Realm. A dense aura of malevolent darkness started to descend as Seraph quickly reached into his inventory to pull out a vial of Lamb’s Breath to shield their presence for a time. Hoping the legion that lay waiting had not yet noticed his presence.
An emaciated arm reached out with long clawed fingers, each ending in talons of obsidian glass and pulled itself up out of the Nether Realm from whence it had come. The Nightmare King revealed itself, it’s body matted with purple and red scar tissue. It was just as Seraph had remembered, though it was more heavily armored then it had been in the past, no longer wearing the shredded black leather but a rusted looking suit that was covered in barbs. Only its hands were still bound by the rusted chains.
The features of the Nightmare King here were obscured by an unnatural darkness. All that could be seen from beneath the triangular hat it wore were three yellow orbs where eyes should be. “Lord Seraph,” the Nightmare called out in a voice that was strange and alien “The one you called Rosebud has told me of your rebirth.” The Nightmare stepped forward and took a knee in front of Seraph as the grey rot spread and as it did, it displaced the green miasma that still lingered.
“Ars Goethe, the one who was once only a Nightmare Duke. I have long depended on you. This will be my final hour. What do you know of this place?” Seraph asked as he felt the passing of time intensely, knowing that his body would fail shortly, and he still needed to return to the present.
“I know very little Lord Seraph. This realm has gone silent. There have been no forays for decades into the mortal world. We of the Nether have turned our sights towards oblivion for an ending. The vast infinity is lifeless, consumed by Aeon and his legion.” The Nightmare King exp
lained.
Seraph nodded and stepped forward towards the monster and curled his fist, letting more blood pour out of him into the summons mouth. “It won’t come to oblivion. I can change this future, but I need your help. For as long as you can, I need you to face the legion. A distraction that only you can provide, there is an artifact here that keeps this future anchored to the past. If I can seize this item, we will still have a chance to prevent this from ever happening.”
“Ah yes,” responded the Nightmare King. “The Anchor. The Dungeon Seed that bloomed from the death of one of your lieutenants, the one known as Reverend. I saw him only once when he was still mortal during the assault on the 17th floor. A powerful dark paladin.”