Crimson Ascension

Pain froze Draven in a torturous hold. He urged the process to end faster, but his will was insufficient to guide the mysterious workings of the Az'Tenri Circlet. Still, his eyes were open—bloodshot—and through them he saw the approaching horde.

Corvanis grunted, purple lighting crackling along his skin, turning a healthy shade of beige, lifeless white. Black lines emerged from his joints as his elbows extended into unsightly sharp spikes. His face elongated, assuming a reptilian appearance, until he looked nothing like a man.

Helvan threw Finn's unconscious body on the ground like a bag of potatoes.

"Huagh!" Finn stood up, rage filling his eyes. "Careful, you young-looking geezer…" Once he heard the hexbeasts roaring, his indignation faded to sheer horror.

"Finn, stay back and guard him!" He growled in a raspy tone. "Corvanis and I are enough for this."

"Stay back?" He gritted his teeth. "Stay back…"

Draven begged to differ. One Eminence, if they were skilled, could handle four to five hexbeasts of the same ranks—the difference between a rational fighter and a rabid animal ensured that. But he refused to assume all hexbeasts were senseless creatures.

They had waited for this opportunity.

Helvan blurred as his Presence expanded, and soon, lizards toppled to the ground, headless. Corvanis slammed his foot on the ground, sending chunks of rock smashing lizards into a bloody mess.

Maybe I'm wrong.

UNLOCKING DURABILITY TRAIT…

The scripture appeared in front of Draven's eyes, blocking his vision of the fight. He had no choice but to trust Helvan and Corvanis knew what they were doing, as his body refused to move an inch.

ENHANCEMENT INITIATED

Metal flowed inside Draven's bone marrow, destroying him from the inside out. He wanted to scream, to give an outlet to the overwhelming pain, but even his vocal cords were sealed shut. The heat solidified, strengthening his bones, evolving his skeleton beyond what Myra had achieved before.

Way beyond.

Tougher than a beast's hide, his skin turned to stone. His muscles brimmed with the resilience of metal wires. His bones melted in fire, forged by hexion, and quenched in blood.

When Draven stood up, the air seemed to quiver.

Information flowed into his mind from the remnant, and in a single moment Draven realized how to use his trait. He did not need to summon the scripture to read the words, for he intrinsically understood the changes in his body.

A hexbeast snuck past Corvanis's barrage of boulders, running at Finn with deceptive speed. Its eyes watched warily as Helvan made quick work of its brethren, showing Draven that it could think.

It's wary… It snuck past Corvanis's blind spot while avoiding Helvan. He had been right, after all. For all their madness and violent territorialism, this one hexbeast was capable of not only accessing its chances of succeeding but could also select the most optimal path to achieve its aim.

Draven slammed his Presence on it, making it flinch and stumble. The Hemomorph's Mantle took shape upon his body, covering his skin in crimson scales forged out of pure ruby. It was time to stop messing around.

Lesser Eminence? Good.

"I'll handle this one, Finn." Draven punches his gauntlets together. "There's two Lesser Reverences coming from behind. Do you think you can—"

"Shut up! I'm not that useless," Finn snapped, turning to the approaching beasts. "I don't need a damn babysitter."

What in the abyss… Draven was stunned at the outburst, but concerning himself with it in the middle of combat was far from a wise decision.

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He stepped on the ground, sending a row of blood spikes breaking through stone toward the incoming hexbeast. It hissed, jumping to the side and sending three wind blades in quick succession before resuming its sprint.

Draven blocked one with the armour on his arms, while the others passed by him and missed their mark. Not a good shot, eh? Something slammed on his back, digging into his flesh with little resistance and stopping with a clang on his reforged bones.

"You fucker!" He roared, but the beast was onto him in an instant, snapping a bite at his neck, eager to draw blood.

He punched the creature in the skull, dodged a clawed swipe at his chest, but took another wind blade on his leg. Gritting his teeth, Draven realized the hexbeast he faced differed from the others. Not only could it feign attacks, but it could control the direction of the wind blade mid-flight.

Were it not for his enhanced Durability and reforged bones, he might have lost a limb on the spot.

It's time I started fighting like a Mender. Dyad Vessel was a trick he could use to turn the tables of a battle, but somewhere along the way, he had depended on it as if it was his primary source of strength.

It was not. It never had been. He was an Archon; blood was his to command.

He stepped forward, rotating his body and sending a low kick striking at the hexbeast's leg. The creature swerved into him, eyes focused on the extended limb, ready to take a chunk off his leg. Draven sent a blood spike piercing at its neck from the other side.

The lizard growled as the spike broke past its scales, piercing flesh and drawing blood. It broke the spike with a furious screech. The once-bloodshot eyes were no longer consumed by rage; it paced around and assessed the situation.

Draven drew back and mended the wound on his leg. He did not give the creature time to think as three blood spheres burst out from his hand, shooting at his foe from different directions. One struck true, breaking scales with a sickening crunch, while the other two missed.

The lizard pounced forward, its eyes glowing with power. Suddenly, the wind struck Draven's back, constricting his movement. He only smiled. I'm not running. Instead of retreating, he used the creature's own attack to accelerate his body forward.

The two missing blood spheres returned, striking the unprepared beast on its spine and sending it roaring in pain.

I can learn a thing or two.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Draven unfolded his Presence into the world. Tendrils spread out from him in all directions, touching the beast, the ground, and the spilled blood. He extended the tendrils further, stretched his Presence as far as possible until the entire battlefield was in his grasp.

The blood in the area quivered under his authority, under the influence of an Archon.

He did not know how to rule over blood—no one had taught him—but Myra said it was akin to shouting amidst an argument. It was all about suppressing the opponent's will with sheer strength.

Rise! He commanded, infusing the spilled blood with his will, and it obeyed.

All around him, pillars of blood rose in the air, blotting out the sun in a shade of crimson. The hexbeast raised its head, pupils constricting as it felt the danger. But it was too late. The blood congealed and took the shape of spikes, but Draven pushed it further, compressed it, and strengthened it.

The hexbeast screeched, turning to flee, but Draven willed its own spilled blood to congeal around its limbs, forming chains that anchored it into the ground.

The spikes became spears, dozens of them. They hovered in the air, frozen as if time had stopped. Draven raised his hand, closing his eyes to marvel at the feeling, then brought it down.

The ground shook, sending dust high into the air as all the blood and hexion in the air struck the oversized lizard at once. Its heartbeat resisted for a few seconds, but soon it stopped singing the tune of life.

When the dust fell, Draven saw the impaled corpse. He could not help but smile. This was his power, not anyone else's. It was not a trick to turn the tides of a battle; it was a devastating force that ended them.

It was who he was—who he was meant to be.

The surrounding battle had long since stopped, courtesy of Helvan and Corvanis taking things seriously for once. Finn panted as he sat near two slain lizards, his sword stained with blood. It had been a massacre.

The Greater Eminence hexbeasts never moved, he thought to himself.

Minutes later, Helvan returned with a bag of cores in his hand. "This should help unlock your Recovery trait—"

The ground burst from under the feet as a blood serpent opened its mouth to swallow the bag. Helvan sneered, not moving an inch. He did not draw his sword, yet the serpent split in half and dissolved in the air.

Draven's eyes widened at the sudden attack, distracting him for a second too long. It was all the Hemomorph wanted. It emerged from his skin, snatching the core of the Lesser Eminence he had just slain before disappearing within his flesh.

It was a feint, he realized. The Hemomorph never meant to steal from Helvan. It used the attack to distract me.

Helvan noticed the same, for the frown on his forehead deepened. "Unshield yourself, Draven. Quick!"

Draven did not doubt the urgency in his tone, so he did as asked.

The Sovran's Presence invaded his body, scouring it from the inside out until his jaw dropped in disbelief. "It is…" he faltered, eyes wide in shock. "The Hemomorph is trying to form a core!"