Enjoy! 2 more coming this week end.
PS: Priam Character Sheet by the Discord guys! or https://anovelstatus.github.io/ by @fmorel / Fred on discord. Patreon key: FC9LXDxYC2uDsmQaL7w1dXCOCTTYY4Plus: the Discord. Come say hello!
*
“Would do it again,” Priam said with a grin. Every level of [Ciphered Record] bought him a little more privacy… and a little more protection. Many were hunting him.
The firebird shook its head. “I would love to write that on your epitaph, but I doubt Mother would let your ashes rest.”
Priam almost shrugged, then caught the genuine concern in the phoenix’s tone. His mentor was worried about him. “I don’t quite see the problem. You told me from the start your clan would want me dead the moment my bloodline became public.”
“There is a nuance between generally wanting the death of mixed-bloods and specifically wanting the death of Priam Azura.” The phoenix scraped the ground with anxious talons. “Before, you were just a fugitive like any other, with at worst, a few agents from the Ministry of Purity looking for you once discovered . Now, you are a public enemy, with real investigators on your trail. Congratulations on the promotion,” the bird said ironically. “Unfortunately, there is no prize.”
Priam smiled. “Except the one on my head.”
“...”
“Do phoenixes not have a sense of humor, or is it just you?”
“I do not understand how you can laugh at a time like this.”
The Champion shrugged. “Among humans, laughter can be a defense mechanism to keep fear at bay.”
The phoenix raised a fiery brow. “So you are afraid?”
“Like a weak human.” Priam’s smile turned bitter. “Every night, it takes me hours to fall asleep with my mind looping through everything that could have gone wrong in those past months. And when I finally drift off, those thoughts turn into nightmares. Lucid dreams where I manipulate aether against monsters. Often my rivals. If I survive long enough, they start targeting my father, my friends, or even humanity to get to me.” His gaze lifted to the Earth hanging at the zenith of the black sky.
After a few seconds of silence, his mentor cleared his throat. “I understand the feeling. As a prince of my clan, I carried a similar burden. Weakness was not an option… but taking reckless risks for a few levels rarely ends well. You need to slow down.”
“With all due respect, your original slowed down, and his phantom is right there.” Priam gestured to the ash-streaked sand. “I’m still standing because since I arrived in Elysium, I haven’t stopped going all-in. Enduring a quadruple Tribulation, acquiring two special bloodlines, acting to fool a homunculus, robbing an ancient god, killing a Transcendent with a nuke… How else was I supposed to catch up to the heir of an Immortal clan without taking those risks?”
“With [He Who Eludes Death]. Your Talent grants you infinite potential. Do not waste it by rushing.”
Priam grimaced. “That would be solid advice if not for my sponsor, Viracocha, my rivals, and now your mother; all vultures circling, waiting for the slightest weakness to swoop down on me.” He shook his head. “I’m like a snowball rolling down an endless slope, gathering speed and mass. My momentum grows every time I crush an obstacle… but I can’t brake. So I keep accelerating, hoping to crush the enemies in my path. Or become dangerous enough that they step aside on their own. That’s what it means to be the Juggernaut,” he winked.
“You have a vast universe to hide in and free will to choose to do so. You are not the puppet of an archetype,” his mentor said, eyeing the crown upon Priam’s head.
“Of course not,” the young man replied with a faint smile. “No one forces me into a role. I’m the one refusing to run.”
“... Can you elaborate?”
The Champion ran a hand through his rebellious hair. “Choosing the Impossible Tutorial was my way of rejecting the mediocrity of the mundane world. Of grabbing magic with both hands, with no safety net. The odds were terrible, and I knew it, but I was ready to die for that dream.” He closed his eyes as memories surged. “That mindset—and insolent luck—is exactly what earned me [He Who Eludes Death].” He smiled again. “All these risks I take, all the effort I pour in… fear is only a secondary engine. Truth is, it’s ambition that drives me.”
They held each other’s gaze for nearly a minute before the phoenix gave a slow nod.
“Fear is a reaction; you endure. Ambition is a proaction; you act. The first leads to a long life. The second to fleeting glory.”
“The dilemma of Achilles. What if I want both?”
“That is not very reasonable.”
“Reasonable people don’t reach the Zenith.”
The mentor nodded. “True. Do not forget it.”
Priam blinked in surprise. “What? Just like that? Wait,” the young man squinted. “Did you just play therapist with me?"
“Too many live their lives automatically, strangers to their own souls. Should you fall in the coming battle, I wanted you to know the ideal you fought for.”
“…You’re the worst mentor.”
“And you aren’t the greatest student,” the phoenix replied with a shrug of its wings. It glanced around the shattered arena. “Mother must be having a fit… Well, if my phantom must be replaced, it might as well be yours. Not that I wish for you to lose the next wave, but still. ”
“What do you mean—ah. If two people clear the same wave, isn't it the first one to Tier up who leaves their phantom?”
The answer interested Priam because Jasmine and Esmée had stopped at the same wave.
“At first, yes. But once you Tier up, if you have not faced the new phantom in the meantime, the System arranges a simulated match between your clones to determine it. Or a battle royale, if there are more than two contenders.”
“Mmh.” Priam thought of the duel between the two young women before the image of Arnold forced its way into his mind. “Well, if the one who beat you is who I think it is, he won’t stop at wave 95.” Priam looked at his hand, then the veins bulging along his arm. Hard to believe they carried boiling ichor. “And neither will I.”
“I like that spirit,” the mentor said with a smile. “But if my eyes do not deceive me, you do not have much time left at Tier 0.”
Priam glanced down at his toga. The orange of flame was gradually giving way to an incandescent white. “My soul saw Pyro evolve… and it’s hard to ignore.”
His addon worked with [Physical & Oneiric Memory] to erase his impressions and understanding, but there was something primordial in a Concept that went beyond the brain to touch the soul. For that, there was nothing to be done. The evolution couldn’t be stopped.
“Ignis.” The phoenix looked away. “I knew it was possible, but…”
“There’s a problem?”
“None.” A humorless smile touched the bird’s beak. “Except that one noble phoenix in a million unlocks it.”
“In a clan with trillions of members, that’s not so rare.”
“You misunderstood me; I’m talking about noble phoenixes. Those whose bloodline is more than 50% pure. In my time, there were not a thousand in the entire Hope Sector,” the mentor revealed before shaking its head. “We’re missing the most important part: our statisticians have never recorded a case with less than 45% bloodline purity. You are not even at twenty…” A sigh. “Your talent with Pyro is truly out of this world.”
Priam summoned a spark into his palm. It danced between his fingers. “Between me and fire, it’s natural.” His eidetic memory unearthed an image of himself as a child, playing with embers in the hearth. A pyromaniac from the very beginning. “And I’ve spent the last six weeks immolating myself against your phantom to accelerate my attainment level. To be honest, I thought I might even surpass Unity with Pyro.”
“At Tier 0? Impossible. What comes after—” The bird stiffened. Priam felt a taut cord at the edge of his aether perception. A magical oath in action. “Ahm. The stage after Unity influences all users of a Concept. It takes a powerful soul to become a… node.” Judging by his grimace, that wasn’t the word it had intended. “Let us change the subject. Did your stubbornness pay off?”
“Did I win as I wanted? Yep,” Priam confirmed with a smile. “My flames overcame Keltan’h’s.”
It mattered for his Story, for it crowned him the greatest Pyro Sage in the Sector, all-time. That he had accelerated his Breath with [Aether Manipulation], driven the plasma’s heat higher with [Kinetic Sovereignty], and fed the blaze with liters of his own blood was secondary to the result: his fire had prevailed.
Any other vector of attack would have tainted the victory.
“That is good for your Story,” his mentor agreed. “Though you could have moved on to the next wave two weeks ago if you had used your Heroic Merits.”
The Juggernaut shrugged. “You know me: everything for the best foundation. Plus, I made the right bet, since it led me to Ignis. With that, I’ve got what I need to attempt a nirvana.”
The phoenix looked away.
Lvl Up: [Priam’s System] lvl [27], 28
MEM +3
VIVA +3
META(Authority) + 3
“Damn,” Priam muttered, clutching his head. “My addon’s losing ground against my understanding. Doesn’t feel good.”
Like pulling the handbrake while slamming the accelerator; for a moment both forces would cancel each other, but the trick wasn’t great for the car.
“What does the System say?” the bird asked.
Priam reread his addon’s summary. Thanks to [He Who Eludes Death], his deaths allowed him to grow closer to the Concept that had defeated him. Thus, each immolation increased his affinity with Pyro. Being already a Sage—meaning he had maxed out his affinity—this translated into a small epiphany. Bit by bit, the one who had already reached Unity continued to push his attainment level toward the next shore... a land impossible for Tier 0s to reach.
“The System is silent.” He frowned. “I can feel that my attainment in Pyro isn’t progressing anymore, with my soul now comprehending Ignis. The memory seal won’t work for long. Four days, tops.”
“That is to say, after the start of the second Reunion. You will be Tier 1 by then, able to accept Ignis, so why the long face?”
“I feel like my hand is being forced.”
“Priam…”
“Alright,” the Juggernaut growled. “Not like I wasn’t planning to Tier up anyway. I only wish I’d had more time to hone my foundation.”
“A century?”
“Or two.”
“Ah. You know what always helped when I was in a foul mood?” The phoenix smiled. “Beating drakes who think they’re dragons.”
Priam returned the smile. “You must be talking about the next wave’s guardian. Hastenash Riusling, phantom for nearly a million years… That looks good on a resume.” A competitive glint flashed in the Juggernaut’s eyes. “He must be something to have stopped you.”
The phoenix snorted. “That envious brat is a nuisance. Break his nuts for me.”
“Oh? So you think I’ll win?”
“No. He is publicly recognized as the greatest native prodigy of the Hope Sector. In my opinion, you are going to lose... But it would not be the first time you proved me wrong. ”
*
The arena gate opened onto a red-scaled drake. As tall as a North American moose and as long as a school bus, the mere sight of it would have awakened primal terror in any human. Accustomed to the Terrors of Valaryth, the phlegmatic challenger maintained a perfect poker face.
Stopping at the center of the Colosseum, the drake rose upright. With more developed wings, Priam might have mistaken it for a dragon. Bone spines jutted from its skull, forming a natural crown. There was no denying the monster’s majesty equaled the terror it inspired.
[Heroic Identification][Phantom of Hastenash Riusling - Tier 0 - Prince - Noble Drake] - The Hellbringer.If puberty makes human teenagers stupid, it’s even worse for drakes. Hastenash thinks only of fighting and breeding. Often both at once. Enjoy the “battle.”Concept traces detected: ?Attributes: Physical (4 000), Mental (2 000), META (3 000)Weaknesses:
None.
Hastenash shared the same stats as his son Aarthash, but Priam knew better than to trust numbers alone. His own attributes were far lower than those of his current opponents, and yet, he had reached wave ninety-six.
“... Are you one of my descendants?” the monster thundered.
Priam plugged his ears. “No need to shout. And no. My mother is as greedy as a dragon, but I doubt she has the excuse of a draconic bloodline. Why?”
“The ichor flowing in your veins perfectly blends dragon and phoenix,” the drake replied at a more reasonable decibel level. “As will be the case for my children and those of Neitlan’h.”
“...The Phoenix Queen?”
“She became a Monarch?” The drake grimaced. Or perhaps smiled. With that many teeth, it was hard to tell. “Good. She is well worthy of receiving my finest seed.”
Priam could easily imagine his mentor, younger, fuming at such disrespect.
“Well, sorry to disappoint, but your dream didn’t come true,” Priam said. “And her son gave me a mission.”
“Oh? Which is?”
“To castrate you,” the Juggernaut smiled before leaping.
The echo of his threat hadn't even faded before his fist smashed with force into his opponent’s jaw. Or rather, into the dual armor of spectral and physical scales that flared upon contact. As his knuckles cracked, Priam saw enormous slit pupils judging him. Then, the phantom retaliated, its claws grazing the Champion's ribs, sending him flying backward.
The difference in strength wasn't as great as the difference in mass. Despite his attributes increasing his density, Priam weighed only a few hundred kilograms. A featherweight against the multi-ton drake.
After a few rolls in the sand, the Juggernaut flexed his damaged hand as he stood back up. His constitution was high, but not as high as the sum of his strength and his legendary kinetic skill.
“Damn,” he cursed, massaging his aching chest.
“You are solid,” the drake complimented , touching its swollen cheek.
Priam looked up at his opponent, a tank whose defenses rivaled his own. The realization didn’t please him. “You too.”
“Of course. I possess true draconic scales. Neither your skills nor your Concepts will find purchase on me.”
“I’ve got the spectral scales Merit too,” Priam muttered, checking himself. Two ribs had punctured his right lung, starting a light hemorrhage. “Doesn’t work the same for me.”
“Of course. You have skin.”
“And?”
The drake chuckled. “As powerful as a Myth may be, its echo is nothing without a foundation. You need real scales as a base for the Merit. Even better if an atavism grants you those of a dragon. I had to wait until my third before I got that lucky.”
Priam’s eyes widened. “You mean—Fuck!”
The arena sand rising up his shins caught his attention. A cheap shot from the reptile; the mineral casing wasn’t dangerous in itself, but it restricted his movements. A vibration in the air made him look up, and Priam cursed. The drake dashed in his direction with the momentum of a freight train. No time to dodge.
Three meters before impact, Hastenash entered the Champion’s zone of authority. Channeling his kinetic skill through his Domain, Priam stopped the monster. Or rather, tried to stop it. The aether slid off the drake’s draconic scales. Shit.
The beast filled his vision. Braced on his legs, Priam raised his arms and tucked his head.
Contact.
He might as well have hugged a bomb.
Several tons of monster launched at full speed smashed into him. His own spectral scales shattered, his muscles compressed, his bones cracked, and his most fragile organs were pulverized. Blinded by the kinetic detonation, Priam lost consciousness for a heartbeat as his brain bounced against the walls of his skull.
Lvl Up: [Shear Resistance] lvl 60CONST +7META (Endurance) +2
Micro and his addon helped him regain control even before his body touched the sand. Grimacing as he strained torn muscles, Priam spun, trying his best to land on his feet. He failed.
[Shear Resistance - Epic] has reached level 60, its maximum level as an epic skill. Natural evolution to the Legendary Tier requires a connection with a Concept or Supremacy.
Prerequisites met—
“Bastard.” Priam spat out crimson sand as he pushed himself up. “The great Hastenash needs to distract me to win?”
“Did you expect honor from a reptile?” Thirty meters away, the drake watched the Juggernaut burn through his lifespan to regenerate.
“From a dragon, yes.”
“If you had ever met a pureblood—” Hastenash snorted. “Anyway, that wasn’t even a real strike. Merely a test. Congratulations, you are worthy.”
“To fight you?”
“To bear my offspring,” the drake replied, straightening up and exposing his virile member.
Priam gritted his teeth. “You might not be used to humans, but I’m a male.”
“Really? And yet, you have such tiny arms,” the colossal beast remarked.
… And I took that personally.
*
Hastenash - young - humanoid form