“Awesome. Do we have a deal, or will you send me back without a deal?”
“We have a deal, and it’s better than the one you wanted,” Nona told Hawke before her counterpart could speak. “I, Arbiter Nonaginta, will interpret the Rules of the Realms in the most favorable light possible when it comes to judging you and those close to you. In return, I may call for one favor to be determined at a later date. Such favor cannot run counter to the Tenets of the Triune Goddesses. Only thing is, you will owe a favor to each of us. Your turn, Vice.”
The male Arbiter grudgingly repeated the oath. Hawke replied in kind, everyone repeated themselves three times, and he felt something click inside his head as the two deals – one with each Arbiter – were written into the code underlying the reality of the Realms. A code that somebody from Hawke’s universe had written, although he had no idea how or why. The important thing was that the Arbiters and the Makers had once been humans like Hawke. One day he might match them in power. It might be him deciding how the code was written down. And maybe he would do a better job than somebody like this Vice guy.
“Done,” Vice said, sounding a lot less angry. “Maybe this will work out for everybody concerned. You better get back in there, kid. You have a big mess waiting for you.”
An eyeblink later, Hawke returned to the Realms, and not a moment too soon.
* * *
His perspective shifted. Hawke found himself looking through his own eyes, but only as a passenger. Greg was inside his head. The Necromancer had taken over Hawke’s body and was looking at Nadia and Tava, who were still meditating, naked, their eyes closed. Helpless. He felt Greg’s stolen face twist in a cruel smile as the Necromancer quietly leaned over and reached for the pair of swords by his side.
Hawke activated Timeless Mind as the Necromancer’s hand closed around the hilt of the sword.
Timeless Mind has triggered a Side Effect: Temporal Distortion.
Temporal Distortion: Every day, there is a cumulative 5% chance that your sense of time will slow or speed up for five to thirty seconds. During that time, you will suffer a penalty to all actions.
Hawke noted the cost of activating the ability, but didn’t spend any time worrying about it. His senses shifted back to the illusion where Greg had trapped his mind. Saturnyx was there, frozen in time as the zombies reached for her. He took her hand and they both pushed with their wills to force their way out of the illusion. Hawke used all the Mana he had left to get them there. It wasn’t enough.
Warning! Spending Mana beyond your limit will result in a permanent Mana loss.
He burned more power anyway. Whatever it took.
You have permanently lost 25 Mana.
It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he had returned Saturnyx’s mind and soul to her swords, and that she used the link between them to bring the Necromancer into her own pocket dimension.
For a moment, the three of them just stood on the circular bedroom, surrounded by red mists, a place that Hawke had grown to love almost as much as the women he had brought there. The Necromancer was back in his normal body, wearing all his gear. So was Hawke. And Saturnyx was in her full Fury form, living metal chains moving sinuously like so many snakes.
Nobody spoke. There really was nothing left to say.
Domort insta-cast Major Death Curse at Hawke, who managed to cast In Extremis before the spell struck home. The curse surrounded him in purple light and pulsed pure death to the tune of 600 damage per second. Hawke’s Health dropped by 210 points, and he was wracked by paralyzing agonies. Even worse, the spell was an ongoing effect and it would keep draining his Health at the same rate.
Unfortunately for Domort, he had gone after the wrong target.
In her personal Realm, Saturnyx could manifest to the full extent of her powers. Hawke’s True Sight only showed ??s for her level and all her stats; she was too far above him to garner any more information. Her chains flew forward and pierced the Necromancer in a dozen places, tearing through his defenses with contemptuous ease. Greg was shredded down to a few dozen Health and held helpless, hanging in the air from a multitude of hooks and barbs embedded in his flesh. One hook smashed into Greg’s mouth and tore out his tongue. It must have hurt almost as much as what Hawke was feeling as he fought for his life.
The Major Death Curse lasted for six seconds. Hawke cast all his healing spells. In Extremis kept him alive when the third damage pulse nearly drained him to zero. The other heals managed to stay just ahead of the last three ticks. It hurt like blazes, but he survived.
“Do not kill him!” he told Saturnyx when the last agonizing DOT finally expired.
Saturnyx grinned with a hateful expression that sent a shiver running down Hawke’s back. “Of course. He has not suffered nearly enough, and he has more lives yet to take. We must find his Reincarnation site.”
“Yes. And he won’t tell us, so I’m going to have to look for it myself. Can you keep him from casting spells while I do it?”
“One of my Fury gifts is called Mages’ Bane. My chains make it impossible for him to use Mana for any purpose for as long as he is held. The ongoing energy cost is intensive, however. I can only hold him for about fifteen minutes before my own Mana is depleted.”
“Got it. Fifteen minutes.”
Hawke examined his new Mind Magic spells and found the one he needed:
Communion (Mind)
Time to Cast: 30(23) seconds. Cooldown: 10(8) minutes. Cost: 50(38) Mana. Duration: 2 minutes. Range: 50 feet. Effect: Links you to another mind. Both participants will have full access to their memories, thoughts, and emotions. Unwilling participants have a 5% chance per point of Willpower over 10 to resist; add +5% for each level difference. Drugs, pain, or unconsciousness can reduce the target’s chances to resist the spell.
Hawke looked at the dangling figure above him and remembered what he had seen at the village. The things Greg had done within minutes of his arrival at the Realms. The many other crimes he had glimpsed as he rummaged through the Necromancer’s memories.
“Make him hurt,” he told Saturnyx as he began to cast the spell. “Stop when I’m inside his head.”
He ignored Greg’s wordless screams and cast Communion. There was a brief moment of pure torment before he broke through and made full contact with Gregory Bellamy. Before he could start searching for the information he needed, he came to fully understand the man he was trying to kill.
If there was one word that could describe Greg, it was ‘loser.’ A loser at the game of life almost from the moment he was born. He and his fraternal twin sister were raised by parents who doted on their beautiful girl and largely ignored the plain and dull boy who happened to have the same birthday she did. Greg always got the short end of the stick. He became envious and resentful long before he knew what those feelings were. Gifted with slightly above average smarts, he had done his best to undermine his hated sibling, and even tried to kill her on two occasions, failing only by luck. The attempted drowning in a swimming pool was dismissed as horseplay gone too far, and nobody knew that a ‘loose brick’ that had fallen from their house’s second floor and nearly hit her head had been dropped from his trembling hands. Trembling because of excitement rather than fear.
It all had gone downhill for him. Greg had been smart enough to be annoying but not smart or dedicated enough to excel at anything. He had found solace in games, but even there his antisocial tendencies had made him few friends. He was always trying to make everything about himself, always ready to give or take offense, quick to anger but also too cowardly to strike back except in small, cowardly ways. He liked nobody, and the feeling was mutual. Bullies had loved to target him, and no one had come to his defense, only worsening his hatred and contempt.
When that angry and resentful virgin had become a Necromancer, his revenge fantasies had been let loose on anybody unlucky enough to cross his path.
Hawke skimmed through memories of violence and brutality; he had already seen enough of them to
last a lifetime. He delved into places where pure information was stored. Greg knew well over a hundred spells in a dozen Schools of Magic and Elements, but trying to steal even a few of them would eat away minutes he couldn’t spare. He dug deeper, looking for the Necromancer’s new respawn point, and finally located it: a sealed compartment deep inside a mountain, ten miles from their location. Getting to it would take hours or even days. They couldn’t get to him in time. Greg would die, respawn, escape.
Hawke checked at his timer. Only seven minutes left.
You lose, moron, Greg’s mind told him. I’ve been five moves ahead of you from the start.
“Never was much of a chess guy,” Hawke said. “I think I’ll just knock the pieces off the table and beat you to death with it.”
Hawke went hunting for something else. Found it.
Identity 13
There it was. The bastard must have avoided death for most of his career, to be in the teens even after Hawke killed him a bunch of times and he committed suicide. He used his Advanced Mana Sight to see the energy pattern underlying Greg’s Identity – and then began to stab it with Mana spikes, trying to take it apart. And it worked. He could use Communion to destroy an Eternal’s Identity!
Identity 12
What are you doing? Greg cried out as an entire chunk of his life – swimming lessons when he was nine, another humiliating part of his life – disappeared without a trace. Hawke kept picking apart at Domort’s life. Yearbooks came and went. Birthdays and schoolyard brawls, insults and recriminations. Gone. The faces of his parents faded away.
Identity 9
Hawke kept chipping away, frantic with the knowledge that he was running out of Mana and time. The twin sister – she had gone on with her life, married and had kids that Greg had never met – disappeared. All his childhood followed. There was no love in those memories, but Hawke took away the growing grievances and resentment that the Necromancer had nurtured throughout his childhood. High school disappeared. The one year in college before he dropped out vanished a moment later.
Identity 4.
Gregory no longer remembered why he was so mad at everybody and everything. He could only recall a handful of his many crimes, and the dull eyes of his many murdered victims gave him some comfort as his befuddled mind tried to come up with a way to strike back at his tormentor. Hawke didn’t give him the chance.
Identity 1
“Why? Why are you doing this? Who are you? I’ll kill you!”
Almost nothing remained of Gregory Ballantine. Just his anger. Hawke stepped away from the mostly empty mind, feeling like he’d gone swimming in raw sewage.
“Finish it.”
Saturnyx did.
Seventy
For slaying your foe, you have earned 2,880 Experience (+20% from the Triune Goddesses bonus, 360 diverted towards Leadership; 360 diverted towards Node Mastery).
Current XP/Next Level:10,228/30,000. Leadership XP: 14,813/15,000
Current Node Mastery XP/Next Level: 6,940/8,000
Warning! Unlocking Death and Undeath Magic has thrown your Mana flow off-balance. You have 9 hours to harmonize your inner energies before you begin to experience ill effects.
Quest Complete: Slay the Lord of the Dead
Rewards: 2,400 XP (+20% from Triune Goddess bonus, 300 diverted towards Leadership; 300 diverted towards Node Mastery)
You have received: 50 gold
You have found: Ring of Spell Storage (Masterwork Quality)
You have gained +150 Reputation with (Unknown).
Congratulations! Your Leadership has increased to Level Eight!
Current XP/Next Level:12,628/30,000. Leadership XP: 15,113/25,000
Current Node Mastery XP/Next Level: 7,240/8,000
Hawke grunted and struggled to his feet. He felt as if he had aged a year, although his timer claimed that only thirty-seven minutes had elapsed since he had started his mental adventure. Time flew when you were having fun.
“Are you all right, darling?” Tava asked him.
“Yeah, sort of.”
In that time, he had not only killed the Necromancer but had picked up three new schools of magic, including a Primal Force. And he would have to deal with the mess of having both Life and Death magic coursing through his Mana channels, not to mention their misbegotten amalgam, Undeath. At least he had a few hours to deal with that. He turned to his sword next:
Are you all right, Saturnyx?
“Yes,” he told the sword. “We got the bastard. I even got to know what it was like to be him, which was nasty as hell.”
“What did I miss?” Nadia asked him.
Hawke sighed. “He’s gone. Greg. For good this time. Got a quest reward and everything. But I have to take care of a small matter of knowing Death and Life magic at the same time. It’s going to take a lot more meditation before I can rest.”
“There is a story there, and no mistake,” Tava said.
“A long story, but I think it can wait until breakfast. Or until I’m no longer about to explode.”
Hawke sat back down and turned his Mana Sight on himself. The lines of Death and Undeath showed up throughout his channels, as well as the upsurge of Life Magic that was reacting to it. Their interaction was complex. Death and Undeath were in many ways in as much opposition as Death and Life. Death was an Element of peace in many ways: an end to the toils and conflicts of life. He even saw hints of Order in the shadowy energies of the Element.
Undeath was something else: it offered no peace, just a state between Life and Death that was driven by strange hungers and a desire to multiply, not through reproduction but via infection. The Amalgam was like a virus, not quite alive but able to mimic some of Life’s functions, and, like a virus, it was devoid of any sense of mercy or sympathy. Hawke understood how easy it would be to give in to Undeath. The school of magic opened many paths, and almost all of them led to evil and damnation. At the most basic levels, its energy filled dead organisms with false vitality, but the deeper one went into it, the anti-Life force began to infect souls as well, binding them to the physical realms in ways that only inflicted torment.
By accepting those energies into the core of his being, Hawke had agreed to walk a difficult road, one where a misstep could turn him into as much of a monster as the Necromancer had been. He would gain a great deal of power, but the price might end up being the loss of who he was, or of any chance at having a normal life. That probably had been inevitable the moment he clicked ‘Yes’ on the Eternal Journey Online screen and ended up in the Realms, thrown on top of a pile of corpses like yesterday’s garbage. Hawke wanted to see things to the end. Whatever it took.
Resolving the conflicts between the different forms of magic was tricky, but his experience in making Light and Darkness balance out helped him deal with the new challenge. Life and Death were two sides of the same coin; putting them together was like moving magnets around until the positive and negative portions clicked together. Undeath was trickier, but he forced it into place by surrounding it with a promise to use the power only to affect dead flesh, not living souls. By the time it was over, he was covered in sweat and felt like someone recovering from a bout of fever. He crawled back into bed as the women in his life watched him with worried expressions.
“I could really use some sleep.”
Nadia smiled. “And maybe a little something-something before bedtime?”
“I’m just going to lie here, and if something happens while I’m sleeping, that would be awesome.”
And it was.
* * *
Alba joined them for breakfast. Her travel clothes were stained and dusty, indicating she’d been out and about and just gotten back to town.
“Just came back from Northpass,” she sa
id, which explained why her travel clothes were dusty and stained, as well as her absence during the short-lived Fae invasion. “Desmond stayed at an inn there a few days ago. He is headed for the Kingdom of Dun-Takah. At least, that was the road he took.”
“That’s a Dwarven kingdom, right?” Hawke asked as he helped himself to a second helping of pancakes, an innovation he had just introduced to Orom and which Dorrham was helping spread far and wide. They had to make do with honey rather than syrup, but he had heard there some trees in the north that produced a sweet sap. He intended to look into that when he had some free time. Which probably meant never, but he dared have some hope.
“Yes,” Alba said, unable to hear Saturnyx’s explanation. “He picked up quite a bit of their language from the Sterns, and will likely do well there. Perhaps well enough that he will forgo thoughts of revenge and carry on with his life.”
Hawke shrugged. With his Unlimited Potential, Desmond would probably speak Dwarven like a native after a few days of practice. A quick check of his map showed him the kingdom was five weeks’ travel away, through several fairly dangerous mountain passes and one long stretch of desert. If the Warrior made it all the way there, he’d probably level up into the teens. Or maybe he would suffer the Final Death. After dealing with Greg Ballantine, Desmond didn’t worry Hawke much.
“Well, I guess he’s not our problem anymore,” he said.
Alba didn’t look happy, but nodded. “I owe you my apologies, Hawke. I shouldn’t have gone off to find him.”
“You’re in our Guild, but we’re not exactly the military. I didn’t issue orders to you. Maybe next time I will, and see if you obey them,” he concluded with a smile.
Lord of the Dead: A LitRPG Saga (The Eternal Journey Book 2) Page 40