Shadow of the Abyss

Chapter 197: Festival of Chaos: Soul Kings

Shadowclaw began to hum, letting loose a scream that set the air aflame. From the blade's spine, webs of scarlet veins lit, stretching across the obsidian face. Each unit of mana Altair delivered returned threefold, spreading through his meridians like an endless flood across the body.

Moonlight peering through murals became stained red, tarnished by a demonic rot known only to the Second Layer of Hell.

Richmond Ironblood was horrified, whether it was the aura billowing from off the Prince or the presence of the Hells around Shadowclaw. Instincts overwhelmed reason, warning of the Second Circle.

Altair glanced at his sword, sensing he had not brought out all this sword's power. 'It can do more,' he thought, containing himself with the aid of the [Soul of the Imdominable].

"That is enough," Ryzar tried to say, but Richmond had already become something of a blur, cutting his sword to meet Altairs. The blade caught air as Altair sidestepped, flinging his sword arm upwards in a profane arc. Shadowclaw roared a cry of defiance as steel against steel met in an outcry of might.

BOOOM!

Ripped from off his feet, Richmond tore through stone like mud, piercing through the ceiling. He landed on the roof, panting. Altair followed his body's trajectory, stopping a meter from the man.

"W-W-What are you?" Richmond shouted through short pants of air. He glanced down at this ruptured palm, feeling dozens of bones shattered in many places along the arm.

'I don't even need the boost towards my physical attributes,' the Prince thought, 'Shadowclaw is channeling all my mana, ensuring that all two hundred of my mana attributes are working through my blade without the slightest leakage. My control is slightly lacking, but not enough to lose a point value in overall performance.'

He gave his wrist a twirl, grinned, and shifted his focus back to Richmond.

[Ding]

Name: Richmond Ironblood

Race: Titan

Str: 800

Dex: 754

Con: 954

Wis: 651

Chr:579

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"I held back with that one sword strike," Altair said mockingly, amused by the way the glow of the runic symbols on Richmond's head lit up. He studied the way the wounds on his palm began to mend, stretching in an inhumane manner.

In a few seconds, all the injuries from their clash vanished. Altair began to circle his opponent, allowing [Primal Instants] and [Foresight] to not only guide his actions but also his intuition. Shadowy images flickered through his mind, marking subtle reactions of Richmond should he move.

"I shall not falter!" Richmond barked, unveiling a seething presence that tore at the air, stripping it from the region and leaving behind a vacuum. Thick, elongated veins began to protrude from the young Ironblood writhing beneath the flesh.

Altair took a step back, frowning as the man began to grow, reaching nearly nine feet tall. He began to laugh when he saw all his stats quadruple.

[Titans Rage]

Multiplayer: 3x

Name: Richmond Ironblood

Race: Titan

Str: 800 ? 3200

Dex: 754 ? 3016

Con: 954 ? 3816

Wis: 651 ? 2604

Chr:579

Mana: 197

"Is this the might of a Titan?" He roared in laughter as the essence of the Vale began to leak from out of his pours, cloaking his body. The reds of the iris turned to two great orbs of the deepest night in which no light could escape.

[Desolate Abyss]

Multiplayer: 3x

Name: Altair Blackwood

Str: 903 ? 2709

Dex: 933 ? 2799

Con: 996 ? 2988

Wis: 1044 ? 3132

Chr: 900 ? 2700

Mana: 200

A/N: +1000 Mana to Str, Dex, Con [Conditional]

As the Vale fluttered his mind and body, a sense of icy cold coursed through the Prince's veins, turning his face a ghastly pale.

The thousands of eyes within the night skies spiraled towards the Prince, marking him with their piercing gaze. He met their stare. "Wait your turn… I've quite the proposition for you all," he said, touched by a hint of greed.

The disbelief upon Richmond hit him hard. He had never met one such as Altair: A Second Circle battling a Fourth Circle had been the stuff of legend, stories of monstrous genius spoken by the Old Gods to the new.

He parted his legs, hopeful that his blade wouldn't be as sharp as his presence. He touched the ring on his finger, meant to protect the spirit from those stronger than himself. Richman could only pray in relief, feeling something penetrating his mind, peeling back the layers of mental defense.

The pain had been a terrible thing, but the tension in his body at this moment had been something that tore his mind away from the discomfort, at least for a second or two.

"Stop it," Richmond bore a grunt, nearly falling to a knee. He clutched his head, "STOP IT. Please… stop what you're doing."

'He can sense it?' the Prince thought, measuring the man and then the ring that his sense of knowing directed him. He noted the subtle inscription and frowned. However, he did not remove the Eye of Sacrilege.

"Enough, Lord Blackwood,' Ryzar shouted, with Tasha following in case he decided to attack her greatest resource.

The Prince permitted a profane smile. "He attacked me. Rarely do those that attack me live."

"Even if it means our deal might fall through?"

'A threat?' Altair grinned. "Even then."

Ryzar could feel the pride in which the boy spoke, both approving and disapproving of his response. 'What man didn't have his own pride?' he thought, nodding. "I can't allow you to kill him," he said.

"His life is of little importance," Altair uttered, sliding his eyes towards Richmond, clutching his head in a ball, writhing in terrible pain. "Though, I'd like that ring on his finger. The inscribed one."

"And then this matter will rest?"

"On my honor,' Altair responded, plaintively unsure whether he was lying or not. He was a little unsure. And thought: 'If that ring could defend against [schizophrenia], could it perhaps grant me knowledge into the School of animus?'

He managed a smile, watching the indifferent air of Ryzar, knowing he did not recognize the ring. Perhaps he might have questioned his nephew further, but the agonizing screams had been something that didn't fit too well in his age mind. He hurried forward, pulled the ring from off his finger, gave it a good stare, and tossed it to Altair.

He caught it, pocketing the ring, allowing the Eye of Sacrilege to pry further into the mind. Richmond's screams had died the moment the strange ring had been pulled from off his finger, his mind taken over by the power of the profane source.

"A devil of my word," The Prince said shamelessly.

"Then I thank… you," Ryzar whispered, his voice a mixture of anger and relief.

The entire endeavor made Altair realize the subtleties of the [Eyes of Sacrilege]. Its ability to manipulate had been something no one seemed to recognize the particular affliction. Even Richmond, who had been struck with [schizophrenia], might have recognized the soul attack but had been unable to block it.

'In two weeks, Richmond will hang himself… but not after gifting me all his knowledge.' the Prince thought with a feverish gleam in his eyes, slowly awaiting his life story.

Again, he smiled. " Now then, shall we discuss—"

The skies began to writhe, reeling with its thousand eyes. The frigid winds picked up, pulled by an intangible force. From North to South, East to West, it reeled, pulling stone from earth in a whirlwind of destruction.

So powerful the winds, Altair was pulled high into the air, saved by Tasha, who caught his arm, jerking him back down. In a single moment, the ceiling of the cathedral was torn away and cast into the heavens. The darkness howled with the ravaging might of the winds, carving through Vesim.

The thousand eyes fell down towards the realm like liquid rain, black as the sea within the night.

Ryzar's fingers reeled, conjuring a strange sigil within the school of Abjuration to create a barrier around what was left of the cathedral. Tasha did the same with a grim frown upon her face; even so, the winds somehow were able to penetrate right through the barrier as though it didn't exist.

'Astral Qi,' she thought grimly, pulling Altair into the cathedral.

"Head towards the crypts," Ryzar shouted, herding his men downwards. Holding onto his faint nephew and Zola, he pointed towards one of the staircases a little ways outside the sanctuary.

Within his party, Ryzar had at least thirty thousand, all of them within the Fourth Circle or higher. But despite that, they were left defenseless, about a hundred flung into the air, caught only by the barrier of protection he'd created in time.

"Don't follow them," Altair commanded Tasha, pulling himself out from her embrace, sensing an unfamiliar sensation penetrate his meridian, targeting… his Astral Sea. His sense of knowing warned him of his impending downfall as he struggled free to look at the falling 'Rain.'

Beelzubub's words rang true in his head, 'You are not the heroes in this game, but the victims.' he'd said hours ago.

Knowing, passed through the Prince, studying the way the many eyes vanished from the skies, and knew….

"We're all going to die," He said, believing it to be the closest thing to the truth.