Chapter 87
The Passenger
My eyes widened as the Dark One rolled onto his front and rose unsteadily to his paws.
That punch had been powered by 106 strength… I’d expected it to turn the creature’s head into something that looked like it’d just come out of a blender.
It hadn’t even come close.
Now, don’t get me wrong, it had definitely left its mark. The creature’s jaw was misshapen, and several fangs had been knocked loose. Still, the results were pretty underwhelming. And, to make matters worse, the Dark One’s jaw was already healing. It shifted back into its original position with a sickening crunching noise.
“Erm, Rel,” I said. “This really isn’t going to plan.”
I glanced over to see that Rel had retrieved his staff and was leaning on it. He was studying the creature intently, frustration burning in his eyes.
“Keep him busy,” he said. “I’m thinking.”
I nodded.
That I could do.
I turned my attention to the Dark One. “Do you know what I’d do if I were you?” I asked.
He fixed me with those unblinking, blazing purple eyes.
“I’d run the fork away while I still can.”
He didn’t laugh.
Perhaps there was some sort of eldritch horror rulebook that prohibited them from being anything other than psychotic, uptight pricks.
I adjusted my grip on The Pitchfork of Lurus and drew back my arm, trusting my agility to handle the aiming side of things. With an entirely necessary roar, I hurled it at the Dark One, and it tore through the air like an incredibly primitive missile.
It slammed into the creature’s side with a satisfying thud, the prongs sinking all the way to the shaft. The force of the impact swept him off his paws once again, and he sailed through the air before crashing to the ground and sliding to a stop.
The Dark One did not move for a few moments, and I felt a flicker of hope that being impaled by a giant pitchfork might have done the trick.
And then he growled and began to rise once more.
For fuck’s sake.
Still, at least it gave me the chance to do something I’d been looking forward to ever since I’d first read the weapon’s description back at the Rewards Office.
I raised my right arm to chest height, my fingers spread. I activated Harvester’s Recall and the pitchfork tore itself free of the Dark One with a squelching noise and a spray of blood. It raced back through the air towards me, only slowing as it reached me to slot neatly back into my grip.
The whole Avatar of Peasants thing had started as a bit of a joke when I first introduced myself to Pyroth back on Floor Eight of the Tower of Potential.
But now?
It was actually a pretty fitting title. All I needed to do now was use Lurus’s Command and fully embrace my destiny.
My mood was ruined somewhat when I watched the four wrist-sized holes my pitchfork had carved into the Dark One’s side begin knitting themselves back together.
As I launched the pitchfork at him again, only one thought crossed my mind: I hope Rel comes up with something soon.
Otherwise, there was a distinct possibility that we’d have to run from a fight for the first time since entering the Trials.
*
Rel’s mind cycled through a range of possibilities.
He could summon the skeletal knights and Sir Rockington III.
No. As much as it pained him to admit it, they would pose no threat to a creature as powerful as the Dark One. He would sweep them aside with ease.
He could bombard the Dark One with lightning, fire, and ice, building up stacks of Corruption of the Draeven with every successful hit. At five stacks, perhaps the effect would be powerful enough to harm the creature.
No. After seeing how quickly it had regenerated the damage inflicted by Pete, Rel doubted it would accomplish anything beyond irritating him.
A fully charged blade of air?
That could potentially do some serious damage… and if he used the Instant Invocation ability granted by his ring, he wouldn’t need to charge the spell.
Ring of Instantaneous Invocation
Equipping the item grants the following bonuses:
+ 6 intelligence
+ 4 agility
+ Grants the ability: Instant Invocation
Instant Invocation
The wearer’s next spell that requires channelling or charging becomes an instant cast.
Cooldown: 1 day
That was a possibility. However, Instant Invocation had a one-day cooldown. If the Dark One somehow managed to evade the blade of air, Rel was unlikely to have the opportunity to charge another.
He’d have to time it perfectly.
Right.
He turned his attention back to the battle.
He blinked several times.
What was happening?
Time seemed to have stopped. Pete was frozen in place, leaning forward with his right arm fully extended. His pitchfork hung a few feet from his outstretched hand, the prongs pointed towards the Dark One.
The creature, who had been in the process of rising once more, was also motionless.
“It would seem the two of you have bitten off a little more than you can chew this time.”
Rel swore none too quietly, jumping several feet into the air. When he landed, he whirled, lightning already gathering in his paw. Whoever had been foolish enough to scare him was about to regret it.
An elderly man stood there, hands clasped behind his back as he studied the Dark One. He did not seem at all afraid. If anything, Rel was fairly certain his eyes held a twinkle of amusement.
He was a little shorter than Pete and looked much gaunter. The bones of his face were pronounced, and Rel was suddenly struck by the image of a wise scholar spending day after day poring through ancient scrolls and completely forgetting to eat.
His skin was dark blue, a shade not entirely dissimilar to Rel’s wizard hat. Long grey hair spilled down his back, and a magnificent beard reached almost to his stomach. He wore simple white robes, the colour so pure that they made the surrounding ice look dirty and dingy.
Rel was certain he had never met the man before, yet he felt strangely familiar.
“Who are you?” asked Rel. “How did you freeze time?”
The man turned his attention to Rel, a fond smile playing on his lips. It would have been easy to dismiss him as some kind, grandfatherly figure, but Rel was not fooled.
He ignored the first question, instead choosing to answer the second. “I have not frozen time,” he said. “Although I can understand why you would think that.” He gestured towards the pitchfork. “Watch Pete’s weapon closely.”
Rel did so.
The pitchfork was moving, but so slowly that the motion was almost imperceptible. He compared the scene as it was now to when he first saw it. The weapon had advanced perhaps an inch towards the Dark One.
“You’re accelerating our perception of time…” said Rel, fighting to keep the awe from his voice.
“Indeed,” replied the man. “It is possible to freeze time, but magic of that nature is incredibly inefficient and messy. Why stop the flow of time for everything when you can simply accelerate a few minds?”
The two of them studied the scene for a few moments longer, then the man sighed.
“As for your first question…” He turned to face Rel. “Perhaps a better way to start that conversation would be for me to ask you the same question. Who are you?”
“I am an Archmagus. A Lord. A Champion. A Squire–”
With an amused sigh, the man waved a hand, cutting the list short.
“Yes, yes,” he said. “I am well aware that you have amassed quite the impressive collection of titles. But I'm not asking about those. Who are you?”
“I am Rel…” said Rel. “An arboreal observer.”
The man nodded. “You are Rel. And you may once have been a simple arboreal observer, but you’re so much more now, aren’t you? When did that change?”
Rel considered the man’s words for a few moments. He knew the answer, yet it was not something he had shared with anyone. Not even Pete.
“Seven months ago…” he said softly. “When the Passenger arriv–”
The words died in his throat.
He considered the man.
Truly considered him.
The way he stood. The way he spoke. His mannerisms.
Rel saw himself reflected in every one of them.
The familiarity he had sensed from the moment he arrived suddenly made perfect sense.
“You’re the Passenger…”
“I suppose that is as apt a name as any,” replied the Passenger.
He waved a hand and two large, padded chairs appeared on the ice. Settling into one of them, he let out a deep sigh before gesturing for Rel to take the other.
“I suppose I’d better start from the beginning. Let me tell you the story of an arrogant, foolish, and incredibly lonely old mage who longed for nothing more than friendship, adventure, and excitement...”
*
“So I’m some sort of mistake? A failed experiment?” asked Rel.
“A mistake, my boy?” asked Zalandar, raising an eyebrow. “Would a mistake have accomplished so much in just seven months? Would a mistake have inspired such loyalty? Would a mistake have helped Pete become the enormous man who stands before us?”
“That’s true…” said Rel slowly. “I suppose the evidence of my greatness is fairly compelling.”
Zalandar grinned. “That it most certainly is,” he said. “I will not deny that your awakening was caused by an error in judgment… but what a wonderful error it was. I’m not really sure what I am to you. Your father? Your brother? Perhaps in some ways, I am you. But regardless, the ritual worked far better than I ever intended. Even through the haze of my shattered mind, these past seven months have been some of the best I’ve experienced in a very long time.”
With that, Zalandar rose to his feet.
“I’m afraid that we are running out of time. My consciousness is still incredibly fragmented from the failed ritual. Being here is using up every bit of strength I have gathered these past seven months. Once this is over, it will be some time before I am able to appear like this again.” He gestured to the wolf. “I will help you deal with this before I go.”
“You can help us defeat the Dark One?” asked Rel.
“The Dark One?” Zalandar tipped back his head and let loose a great bellow of laughter. “Is that what he’s calling himself these days? I suppose it makes sense. He always was an arrogant little wretch with delusions of grandeur.”
“You know him?”
“I suppose you could say that. He is a mid-tier eldritch being who caused a little bit of a fuss a thousand years ago when he attempted to conquer a small, barely inhabited corner of the galaxy. The fool claimed it was his ‘empire’, but the reality was nothing quite so grand. Word of it eventually reached me, and I decided to pay him a visit and correct a few of his misconceptions.”
“That was very noble of you,” said Rel. “It doesn’t sound like something the jaded old man in the story you just told me would do.”
Zalandar laughed again. “You are not wrong there, my boy. I was a little younger back then and still took a certain amount of satisfaction in crushing interdimensional tyrants.”
“Crushing interdimensional tyrants does sound like it could be an entertaining hobby,” said Rel, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps I’ll take it up myself once Galaxy Showdown is over.”
“It’ll be my pleasure to show you the ropes...” said Zalandar, then smiled a little uncertainly. “Well, that’s assuming I haven’t permanently shattered what remains of my consciousness and stranded myself outside my own body. But anyway... that’s a problem for another day. Right, let’s discuss how to deal with this ‘Dark One’. His name’s Marvakadius, by the way, but I always called him Marv. He hated it.”
“Marv?” Rel grinned. “Excellent. I shall be using that. So, how do we kill him? Even a giant Pete wielding a divine pitchfork can’t seem to finish him off, so I hope you have something in mind.”
“As impressive as both of your progress has been over the last seven months, you do not yet possess the power necessary to kill him through brute force alone. In fact…” Zalandar’s eyes narrowed. “A being like Marv should not appear in the Trial Zone. It violates every one of GEC’s guidelines for setting Trial parameters. Someone is going to be in a great deal of trouble when this anomaly is discovered.”
“We can’t kill him through brute force?” asked Rel. “Then what exactly are we supposed to do?”
“Well… if you charge up one of those delightful blades of air, I believe I can persuade it to cut more than flesh.”