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!
Sorry for the delay, I was kidnapped on Friday for a bachelor party! Two today, another one tomorrow!
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Chapter 470 : Symphony: Hell
[Spiritless - Silver] - Tier 0: The regeneration of your meridians leaves no natural scars. ACQUIRED
[Spiritless - Silver] - Tier 1: Your meridians can now temporarily survive without a physical body. Transition toward an elemental form possible. ACQUIRED
[Spiritless - Silver] - Tier 2: In addition to your META (Endurance), the regeneration of your meridians is now tied to your Vitality. ACQUIRED
[Spiritless - Silver] - Tier 3: You are now capable of growing, modifying, or removing your meridians. NEW
5 Unused Merit Points.
If the runes on the soul’s surface were the engine of skills, then meridians were the network transmitting aether. In some cases, Domain allowed one to temporarily free oneself from spiritual pathways—for example, to project [Kinetic Sovereignty] within one’s sphere of authority when only one’s head remained—but a body deprived of aether quickly withered. At least, a body enhanced by the System did.
Thus, for the first time in a long while, Priam had been forced to invest in Merits just to ensure the patchwork monstrosity that was now his physique remained something more than a statue of flesh.
“Did I really pull it off?” he whispered.
Raising a scar-covered hand, he grimaced as he noticed the faint tremors running through it. He had made mistakes while sculpting his body back together, and poorly wired nerves were transmitting his brain’s commands imperfectly. Commands governed by Micro, which—
The young man growled as he noticed the erratic beating of his hearts. His Supremacy was bugging out. Priam lifted his arm.
“And there’s lag too,” he sighed, noticing a delay of several microseconds.
Hardly surprising, considering Micro was being supported by a soul under extreme strain. In his opinion, he was getting off lightly. As an Homo Elysian, his soul was tied to his body, and the destruction of the latter should have ruined the former. Yet the core of his being had endured. The crystallization brought about by [Iconoclast] and later [Blasphemer] was already paying dividends.
Of course, another valuable player had been [Rule Breaker]. Recognizing the destructive feedback loop between body and soul as an attack, the gate had delayed the collapse of his soul long enough for Priam to make his comeback. Once again, a resistance had saved his life.
Lvl Up: [Rule Breaker] lvl 31CHAR +3Meta (Chance) +6
To be honest, Priam hadn’t expected that effect, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. One distant day, with the progression of this skill, perhaps [Homo Elysian Obsession] would no longer carry any drawbacks.
But for now, I’d better make sure I don’t turn apocryphal.
Trees of Merit
[Twisted Soul - Legendary] - Tier 0: Just like your body, your soul is now capable of regenerating to some extent. ACQUIRED
[Twisted Soul - Legendary] - Tier 1: Degrade your soul by one Tier to increase its plasticity, adaptability, and regeneration.WARNING: Only one High Tribulation is possible per Tier and per universe. NEW
4 Unused Merit Points.
Down to just 4 Merit points?!
Priam grew lightheaded at the thought of running out of resources. For the hoarding dragon in him, it was borderline agonizing... but these were extraordinary circumstances. Taking even the slightest risk with his soul was idiotic. [He Who Eludes Death] still needed another dozen hours before it would be primed again, and his spiritual state could deteriorate at any moment.
The Merit activated, and a terrible itching sensation assaulted him as his soul began restoring itself. Since scratching the essence of his existence was somewhat impossible, Priam distracted himself by reading the second Merit. A final safeguard against an apocryphal transformation—one that would rob most people of the Zenith. The Juggernaut hoped he would never have to make that choice.
He skimmed through the rest of his notifications.
Lvl up: [Kinetic Sovereignty] lvl 14PERC +9META (Focus) +9META (Perception) +9Lvl Up: [Humanoid Anatomy] lvl 18, 19, 20, 21MEM +12Lvl up: [Fount of pseudo-Ichor] lvl 34
VIT +9
Other skills had also helped restore order to his body, whether by manipulating the scattered pieces of himself, knowing where to place them, or sealing the seams to prevent catastrophic blood loss. Coming back from near death was no trivial feat—especially when it was repeatable—but every little bit added up. A few Tiers from now, those same resistances might allow him to reject death itself without relying on his patron’s power.
Anyway, Priam was proud of himself. Had he not already possessed [Four-Headed Hydra], reconstructing his body from spare parts probably would have earned it for him. Instead, the System granted him something else. Or rather, it warned him that the aether would remember his feat.
Crown of the Juggernaut:Minor Actions: 2/10 (+1) Major Actions: 2/3
Movement to his left pulled Priam from his thoughts. He had not won yet.
An eyelid twitched before a gigantic eye came back into focus. The slit pupil soon locked onto Priam.
“You look terrible,” Hastenash rasped.
“Back on Earth, we have an expression: the pot calling the kettle black. Means you’re in no position to talk.”
“My fat absorbed the impact. The trauma to my organs is minor.”
“Yeah, aside from the three-meter spear lodged in your spine, the massive gash running across your stomach, and the full-body bruising, you look brand new,” Priam drawled. “Go ahead. Try standing.” He smiled as the drake’s attempt failed. “Promesse lodged straight into your spinal cord isn’t doing your nervous system any favors.”
Hastenash started growling before the sound dissolved into a sigh. A tangled mix of emotions flickered through his eyes.
“At first, I admired your resilience. Now I am weary of this battle.”
Priam shrugged. It was easy to forget, but the phantom before him was a copy of a sixteen-year-old. Other than the future Phoenix Queen and the boss of the next wave, who had Hastenash ever lost to?
“The adrenaline’s worn off,” Priam admitted while stretching carefully to test the limits of his recovery. He could barely lift his hands higher than his head. “But according to dragon law, this duel ends with a winner… and a loser whose bloodline gets harvested. Since I doubt you’re about to do me a favor and surrender…” The young man spat something crimson onto the ground. “Final round?”
The drake sat back on his hind legs.
“Come at me. I can’t move.”
Too exhausted to call upon a Concept, Priam began circling his opponent in search of an opening. Slower than before his pseudo-resurrection, yet carrying no less determination, he ran with the stubborn resolve of a man already seeing the finish line. Time for the final sprint.
Hastenash dragged himself around to keep Priam within his field of vision. Then, perhaps from fatigue, he blinked.
With a grunt of effort, Priam dove beneath a blind swipe, rolled, and climbed the beast. Reaching the shoulder, he grabbed hold of a nostril with one hand and began hammering the draconic snout with the other. No weapon. No willpower left to waste. All he had left to win with was his body. The enemy must have been running low on aether as well, because no spectral scales appeared to stop his fists.
Furious, Hastenash raked his claws across Priam’s unprotected back. Or rather, scratched him.
Transformed by [Nova Titanium Body], the Juggernaut’s skin possessed a sharpness resistance rivaled only by its brilliance. His coppery skin merely marked by a few white lines, Priam burst out laughing.
“If that’s the best you can do, you might as well lie down and let me finish this quickly!”
“That’s what I told your mother last night!” roared the drake.
“Then I suggest you get tested for STDs!” Priam shot back, driving his elbow into the enemy’s cheekbone. The bone cracked with a satisfying sound. A few more hits like that, and the boss would be going to sleep.
Hastenash roared. His pupil split apart, projecting an artificial, paralyzing terror. Exploiting the opening, he seized Priam in his claws, slammed him into the ground, then bit down.
The Juggernaut barely had time to roll aside to avoid being swallowed whole. Even so, he felt fangs graze him during the maneuver.
Lvl up: [Nova Titanium Body ] lvl 2
CONST +24
META (Endurance) +3
Once back on his feet, Priam raised his left hand and stared at his four fingers in surprise. One was missing.
The drake chewed exaggeratedly before freezing, then spat two small bones onto the ground.
“You just cracked a tooth?” taunted Priam.
“No,” lied the phantom.
With a burst of laughter, Priam lunged again. Once in close quarters, he drove his fist into the enemy’s stomach. The barely closed scar exploded open, and Hastenash roared in pain.
The retaliation came instantly, a vengeful claw raking across the Champion’s torso.
Lvl up: [Nova Titanium Body] lvl 3CONST +24META (Endurance) +3
The exchanges rapidly escalated, both in violence and ruthlessness. Hastenash bled freely, his entrails slowly spilling from his abdomen. Priam, meanwhile, was losing kilograms of flesh, torn from his body by sharpened claws.
And yet, with bloodied knuckles split from repeated blows, he smiled.
Neither pain nor the looming shadow of death could compare to the exhilaration of feeling his limits pushed back. Every cut, every fracture, every trauma was an opportunity for his cells to mutate, for his resistances to evolve.
Watching the enemy’s claws sink less and less deeply into his body, the Juggernaut burst out laughing. There was something cathartic about brawling barehanded against a mythical beast… and strangely enough, the pain itself played no small part in it. Far from being a burden, he took it as proof of progress toward his metamorphosis. As for his wounds, they were medals bought with blood, evidence that he had earned every ounce of power gained.
Lvl up: [Nova Titanium Body] lvl 4CONST +24META (Endurance) +3 Lvl up: [Fount of pseudo-Ichor] lvl 35VIT +9
After one final barrage of blows, the intensity of the exchange began to fade. Even enhanced by the System, two Tier 0s could not fight forever.
Throwing yet another uppercut into a fractured scale, Priam grimaced when the crack failed to spread. As if to confirm the issue came from him, the burst of compressed air detonating between his fist and the drake’s hide sounded more like applause than a gunshot. In short, the power behind his strikes was lacking.
If one of us is going to bow from exhaustion, it’ll be me, Priam realized while dodging a bite aimed at decapitating him.
His cells needed energy to mutate and multiply. His monstrous vitality merely accelerated the process and streamlined it by optimizing efficiency. The problem was that his reserves of carbohydrates and nutrients were running dry, and Priam doubted the drake would allow him a halftime banquet.
Unless I don’t ask permission…
A dangerous gleam entered his eyes.
Priam slipped beneath a claw strike and circled around the crippled drake until he reached the space behind his forelegs. A blind spot. Indeed, his neck was too short, and his hind limbs—tail and wings included—were cut off from the nervous system. Hastenash could not reach the insect exploiting that weakness to climb onto his back.
There, wedged between two vertebrae, Promesse remained buried in the spine. Priam ripped it free from the creature like Excalibur pulled from stone and smiled in savage satisfaction as gore followed the blade out. Grabbing the shredded flesh with his bare hand, he stuffed it into his mouth. If the drake could devour the heart of man, was man not allowed to devour the drake?
Warm blood running down his chin, he chewed the raw meat with disgust, then surprise, then pleasure. A cloudlike texture blessed his taste buds, accompanied by an intense, spicy flavor.
Lvl up: [Poison Physique] lvl 22CONST +6VIT +3
No spices. Poison.
Priam shrugged while gorging himself. To anyone not allergic to death, Hastenash was downright delicious. A Prince’s delicacy.
“What are you doing?!”
Beneath him, the phantom writhed, trying to see what was happening. Without nerves, without Micro, and with Priam’s Domain disrupting his own, the drake had no way to properly understand the situation. In combat, that was terrifying.
“I eat wou,” Priam replied through a full mouth.
“You dare?! I will eat you!”
Priam swallowed. “That’d be self-cannibalism.”
“What?”
“I already ate part of you. So if you eat me, you’re kinda eating yourself—”
The Juggernaut tilted his head just as the drake’s tail lashed toward him. Instead of piercing his skull, the natural weapon vaporized his right ear in a crimson spray.
Priam jumped down and quickly retreated.
Without a spear lodged in his spine, Hastenash could move again, and the blind spot was no longer blind.
“You are going to die,” growled the drake as it rose to his feet. Wings spread wide, it projected a terrifying image.
“Eventually,” Priam replied.
His stomach was digesting, sending waves of warmth through his entire body. The Juggernaut felt like a dying man who had finally been given water: ready to seize the moon itself.
Lvl up: [Fount of pseudo-Ichor] lvl 36
VIT +9
Hastenash roared. Priam answered in kind, and the two hurled themselves at each other.
A claw descended like a guillotine before stopping abruptly, blocked by Promesse. Three meters from the enemy, Priam could feel the drake’s minty breath and see the fury burning in his reptilian eyes.
Then the phantom’s neck relaxed, and his maw shot forward with the suddenness of a serpent strike. Unavoidable.
At close range, the enemy Domain prevented a mist ride, and Priam could only raise his spear to defend himself. Held horizontally, the weapon jammed the draconic jaws open, preventing them from closing around him. The shaft pinned the tongue to the bottom of the maw while the blade drove into the soft flesh of the palate.
Priam’s instincts screamed. Something was wrong. Why was Hastenash allowing himself to be wounded?
A glowing red light deep in the creature’s throat provided the beginning of an answer.
“Fuck,” swore the Juggernaut as the arena sand trapped his legs once more.
A fraction of a second later, a torrent of flames engulfed him.
The incandescent deluge illuminated the arena, vitrifying the ground in a straight line before smashing into the outer wall. The Colosseum trembled.
Lvl up: [Pyro Champion Physique] lvl 40
CONST +9VIT +3META(Endurance) +6META(Authority) +9
When the blazing cataclysm ended, it revealed a charred body.
“Cockroach,” growled Hastenash.
A feat in itself, considering the glowing spear still lodged in his mouth.
The wind scattered a layer of carbonized skin, revealing a Juggernaut still alive beneath.
“Pyro Sage, a high constitution, legendary kinetic skill, legendary flame resistance enhanced by a gate, and [Life is Hard; I’m Harder]. Enough to put a Mythic fire resistance to shame,” the Juggernaut boasted before opening his mouth wide.
He had not merely endured the Breath. He had inhaled part of it.
Compressing the flames unleashed by his enemy inside his draconic lung, Priam forged a star and fed it with his own blood. As though gasoline had been thrown onto a bonfire, the nova detonated into a supernova. Priam exhaled.
Ultimate: Draconic Phoenix Wrath.
A true beam of plasma surged down the drake’s trachea. His stomach ballooned grotesquely before tongues of flame exploited the ruptures in his scar to drown the arena in an infernal torrent. When Priam finally closed his mouth, Hastenash was bleeding fire from every orifice. The drake collapsed without even roaring.
It was the perfect moment to end the battle, but Priam clutched his head instead. Falling to his knees, he massaged his temples in the hope of suppressing the epiphany.
The Pyro spark orbiting his soul threatened to evolve into Ignis at the worst possible moment.
He could not afford to undergo a High Tribulation before clearing the Tribulations already pending. Even the Juggernaut lacked the confidence to endure them back to back. Especially in his current state.
“You… I am stronger than you,” breathed Hastenash.
Occupied with his own problems, Priam didn’t respond.
“You win because you are willing to go further than I am,” the phantom continued. “Outside this place, it would be my defeat… but I am only a copy. Preserving my potential or fearing a High Tribulation is meaningless when I am destined to disappear regardless.” A dark smile stretched across his maw. “So I may as well go out with a bang.”
The atmosphere changed.
Priam raised his eyes toward his opponent’s final outburst. Like a dinosaur watching a meteor descend, like an inhabitant of Pompeii hearing Vesuvius erupt, like a fisherman sensing the storm rise, the young man understood that calamity was about to descend.
“From Sand to Desert. From Spirit and Flame to Spiritflame,” chanted the phantom, elevating his Concepts to Tier 2. “Symphony: Hell.”
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