Herald of death

"So, it is possible," Ethan states, getting ahold of himself as the draining sensation vanishes.

The realm master makes a scolding expression. "Let me be perfectly clear; there isn't a single Mage in your time capable of that feat. Even with all the benefits your world offers to the trailblazers amongst you, only their distant descendants, after generations of industrious geniuses, could pretend to cast the simplest of Aetherian spells!"

Ethan looks at the blond man, wondering what made him so angry. It cannot be that it killed him, as this place resurrected him. Searching the man's expression, Ethan realizes it might not be only anger but also… fear. He has only seen him being emotional when talking about this training ground's destruction, as it interfered with his purpose. He ponders silently for a moment and then asks, "Did I risk messing this place up?"

The realm master is taken aback for a second, as if Ethan understood something he shouldn't have. He regains his composure and answers, "Yes. I will not explain why or how. But I think you already understand enough to make a guess."

'Are you not allowed to tell me?' Ethan ponders. He wonders if it is a vow of silence. Shaking off the thought, he refocuses on the man's question. "So far, I've only used Aetherian to control people for a few instants. I wondered if I could just say 'die' or if I could affect other things but never tried. Well, I did affect something magical once – a restraint put on one of Kaliathra's servants."

The realm master stares silently, with a hint of expectancy.

Ethan jumps to his feet and grabs an ochre pebble from the ground. He looks at a distant, flat-top rock and points at it. 'Place,' he orders, getting Russ to jump on the rock and out of earshot. Lifting the pebble near his face and drawing a sliver of life force, he whispers to it, "Crumble."

The pebble shivers in Ethan's palm. A spiderweb of fractures spreads across its surface, thin as hairlines but expanding like a disease. Ochre sand sloughs off in tiny trickles, escaping Ethan's hand.

Ethan staggers, his chest heaving as though he had run miles. It drained him of more Ether than when commanding Aranthor or Cedric, just to crush a stone he could have pulverized with his hand. He looks back at the realm master. "I'm guessing that with enough Ether, I could destroy this illusion. When I got Aetherian, the fruit said it was the language of the gods. If local theology is right, and the system is a shard of the Elder God, you must be able to speak it too. The question is: are you subject to its effects? Or I'll do you one better: was the system created using Aetherian? Are you afraid I could undo you?"

The realm master looks at Ethan for what feels like an eternity. When he finally speaks, he appears calmer. "Nothing is insensible to Aetherian, it is only a matter of how much power you can channel. Altering, or undoing, something, especially an entity with a powerful soul, is out of your reach. Trying before you are ready will annihilate you – body and soul."

"So, stick to rocks for now until I can hold much more Ether?" Ethan asks, annoyed at not getting answers.

"You should focus on aiming your voice at the intended target," the realm master says. He points at Ethan's feet, where the ground melted into sand except for under his soles. The ochre sand melts into black smoke and reforms as solid stone. "But this isn't the kind of power you should nurture here. Until you have a lot of time to spare, I would recommend focusing on your other abilities."

"Just a question before you go. Is killing Cedric the end goal of this challenge?" Ethan asks.

"Speaking of which," the realm master says with a smirk. He makes his book appear, and the world is swallowed by darkness before reforming into the cliffside where Ethan fought Cedric. "Your shenanigans made you lose an opportunity to put your training to the test. Good luck."

As he watches the real master seeping into the ground, Ethan hears a heartbeat appearing in the battlefield's center. A shiver climbs along Ethan's spine as the pressure of Cedric's soul presses on him. He glances back to find the prince, already scaled up, and dripping poisoned gas. The man doesn't bear his earlier prideful smirk; instead, he looks dead inside. It reminds Ethan of the inexpressiveness he often sees in One. Breathing deeply before closing his airways, Ethan glances around but doesn't find Thaddeus.

Cedric doesn't wait. His body blurs forward, accelerating ability kicking in. Ethan pulls Stormshard to guard, but Cedric's blade is already there with a perfect thrust aimed at a lung. Ethan barely twists aside, the edge of Cedric's blade scraping his coat. Cedric doesn't pause. Each of the prince's motions flows into the next – a hail of precise attacks built to force Ethan into worse and worse positions.

Ethan uses Prescience to keep up, but it falters, and so does his style, which is unreliable when on the defensive. He triggers Strengthening to overwhelm Cedric's guard, only for the prince to pivot just shy of contact. Cedric's dripping sword carves a line across Ethan's thigh as he moves.

Russ bursts from the shadows, maw snapping at Cedric's arm. But the noble doesn't flinch. He twists with grace, his scaled hand seizing Russ' jaw mid-snap. With a sickening crack, he slams Russ into the ground, venom-laced claws digging into fur.

"Stop!" Ethan commands, drawing on a sliver of life force. He stops himself from refilling his Ether, wary of Cedric's curse on the surrounding threads. Bending Cedric's thumb outward, Ethan delivers Russ before commanding him to return to the shadows. He looks up at the frozen, defenseless noble, pondering if he should end it so easily. 'It's an opportunity for me to actually train before confronting Cindralis. I should give it at least a few days without cheating. No potions, lantern, or anything I can't manage by myself.'

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Cedric unfreezes and resumes his assault, ignoring the state he was in. Ethan's muscles scream as he catches the blow with Stormshard. The impact rattles his bones as, now drained of Ether, he's forced to rely only on his base strength and speed.

'He's faster and cleaner than last time. I thought he reminded me of One, but he's exactly like him; he gave in to the thrill,' Ethan thinks. He gives in to it as well, tunneling onto his opponent. The bestial clarity that can only be tasted in the thick of battle comes stronger than Ethan remembers. It pulses through him with each heartbeat. Their blades sing as they slide against one another, missing their targets by millimeters as the two lock into a flurry of blows.

As seconds pass, it becomes evident that without Ether, Ethan is slowly losing. Cedric herds him, restricting his movements with phantom snakes bursting from his skin to block flanks. Ethan's held breath is running out. Every dodge Ethan makes appears to be predicted, putting him under increasing pressure.

Something alien but familiar stirs within Ethan. A thread of Ether is born inside his heart – a spark that rockets into his flesh and brain. He realizes what it is the instant it flares, a sliver of war Ether. The thread, conjured out of nothing, feeds Ethan, making his body faster and the thrill hungrier.

Seconds stretch into eternity as Ethan's movements devolve into pure instinct, his blade moving before he wills it.

Cedric's empty eyes flicker. His next lunge turns hesitant. The pressure he inflicts on Ethan's soul lessens as a primal, instinctive fear appears in his eyes. Black veins appear in between his scales. Ethan instantly feels the terrible strength of life force when Cedric's blade crashes into his.

Ethan's lungs burn. His vision narrows in pained pulses. Every strike from Cedric lands closer, cutting into Ethan's armored coat and shirt. Ethan clashes aside a thrust, but Cedric's planned riposte comes too fast. Cedric's claws lick across Ethan's ribs, shallow but stinging, the poison in them seeping into his flesh.

Air erupts from Ethan's sealed lungs in a ragged cough. He stumbles back, buying a breath of distance. Russ snarls in Ethan's mind, surfacing to lunge at Cedric. 'Leave it,' Ethan commands.

Cedric doesn't slow down. His sword plunges into Ethan's thigh, and he twists it to tear Ethan's quadriceps.

Ethan lets go of Stormshard and grabs Cedric's right hand with his left, holding him in place. Using his life force, Ethan casts a piercing fireball, almost point-blank at the held prince. It illuminates the night with its blue light. The blast ionizes the air between them, a concentrated lance of blue fire exploding into Cedric's torso. The concussion throws dust and shards of stone outward, the heat intense enough to burn Ethan's exposed skin.

Cedric staggers backward. His scaled chest is blackened and cracked, steaming from the strike, but not pierced. He retches black ichor onto the ground, vomiting a liter of his own blood before standing back up. Then the scales shift. The burned plates flake away, revealing a new layer of glistening, viridian scales. His head snaps up, his eyes back to his cold, clinical focus.

Still holding Cedric's hand, Ethan begins to cast another, identical spell. Cedric rips his clawed hand free from Ethan's grip, twisting it to leave gashes across Ethan's palm. In the same motion, his blade carves upward. Ethan jerks aside; too slow. The edge of Cedric's blade slashes up Ethan's neck. Poison floods the wound, fire racing through his veins.

Ethan drops to a knee, clutching Stormshard with trembling fingers. His breath rattles his chest, lungs raw from the poison burning them. He tries to absorb the surrounding Ether while holding back Cedric's dark and death Ethers but fails to sense them. He analyzes the fight as Cedric lifts his blade. 'I should train that by having Gulthur release the smallest possible amount of war Ether. Not being able to absorb Ether is my biggest problem; if I don't use Aetherian, I can hold my breath for the entire fight.'

Cedric's blade moves through Ethan's neck in a blur; he sees himself tumbling in the air until he can see his own faltering body. Then, darkness takes him.

Dragged from the dark sea, Ethan awakens to find himself pressing his hand against the skin of his neck, checking for a cut. It vanished completely, like the damage to his clothes.

"Melee Weapon (long sword) leveled up (x2)," the system announces.

Russ leaps out of the shadows to force his head into Ethan's hands for pets.

It seems like Ethan's body experiences emotions before he's reinserted into it. Russ feels the lingering smell of fear and appears worried by it. It makes Ethan wonder if he isn't overriding some fleeting consciousness that only experiences pain and terror. It sends a shiver down his spine.

"You are acclimating remarkably well," the realm master says, appearing next to Ethan.

"You made him stronger," Ethan complains.

"To reserve him for your final test, I had to alter his memory so he won't ask questions. While not intended, it does soothe his pride and ego, making him a better warrior." The realm master summons a treat stinking of smoked duck and throws it at Russ, who gobbles it. "You had an opportunity to end this challenge. Why didn't you strike him down when he was held by your voice?"

"I thought about it and concluded it would be a missed opportunity to grow stronger." Ethan continues to think over his last death, judging and critiquing his performance while it is fresh. He asks, "Is this what it really feels like to die? Intense pain, the fear of losing grasp, and then nothing?"

"Well, that quite depends on what happens to your soul afterward. If you are talking of your body's experience of death, I think every death is different. To some, it is even a relief as it soothes the pain they had to live with for years before it finally claims them," the realm master answers.

Ethan sighs and stands up. He asks, "During the battle, I felt a thread of war Ether appearing into my heart. I'm convinced it did so because of the state I was in, but it wasn't converted from my Ether; it just appeared. It was like when I raised my stats through the system. Did you do that?"

"No," the realm master begins. "There are several ways to gain a god's Ether. The most common and easiest is to convert natural Ether through a divine oath. But when someone embodies a god's aspect, they can steal some of it for themselves."

"Did I put myself on Balthor's to-kill-on-sight list?" Ethan asks, annoyed at the idea.

The realm master laughs lightly. "Don't worry about it. Their most fervent followers do it all the time, and they cannot hate someone who's, although temporarily, similar to them. If anything, doing it reliably might put you in his and his clergy's good graces."

Ethan exhales, relieved to not have another god gunning for him. "I felt it affecting my mind; it wanted me to kill Cedric. Could it control me, like Seraphel does with his followers?"

"The divine oath is what gives gods the control they have on their servants. But all unnatural Ethers have an effect on people; you have tasted many of them before. Dark Ether drains your emotions; death Ether exhausts you; fire Ether angers you, and so on. You should always avoid major corruption from any kind of Ether. Doing so with war Ether would turn you into a beast. Friend, foe, beast, child – it makes no difference. You would fight anything, disregarding even self-preservation as long as blood flows." The realm master begins to melt into descending smoke. "But I invite you to test your limits while you are here."