Chapter 242: It's always a hassle to be recognized until you desperately need to.
The first level of Abyssos was an expansive realm spanning several miles in diameter, large enough to be considered a small country in its own right. Yet when Daruk lifted the last restriction of willpower on his core, nearly half the populace of Abyssos felt it immediately—hairs rising in fear and wonder at the power that had just been unleashed.
As expected, they reacted in one of two ways. Most ran, completely intimidated by the potency of Daruk's strength. And who could blame them? With no way to properly assess Daruk's power like Aodhán could, they automatically assumed anyone who could unleash such an amount of willpower was certainly outside their league.
And so, they ran as fast as they could from the area, some stumbling across the rocky terrain in their haste. A prime example was a particular Sunstonian telepath whose world had been rocked to its core in the last half hour since arriving in this cursed realm.
Seojun Sōsei had barely managed to defeat the horde of gremlins that had attacked him on arrival, swarming him with sharpened teeth and primitive weapons. But he'd won, eventually, only to fall into a nest of Fanglings—spidery creatures with venom gleaming from bladed appendages.
It was pure horror, and Seojun was done with it all. His body was covered in wounds and bruises from the hundreds of near-death scenarios he'd avoided at the last minute, but beyond that, his mind ached from the constant channeling of mental energy, and worry for his sisters gnawed at him.
So when the explosion of willpower had rocked the earth just minutes after escaping the nest of Fanglings, Seojun had run, unwilling to be near anyone of such strength. He had seen firsthand just how much the captives hated him and his siblings.
Frankly, everything in this cursed realm wanted him dead. If it wasn't a horde of sun-blighted creatures, then it was his fellow humans who would kill him without hesitation for a crime his ancestors had committed nearly a millennium ago.
"Aeloria, please save me," he prayed as he picked up the pace, putting as much distance as possible between himself and the origin of that explosion.
Unlike Seojun, however, a few people weren't scared off by the explosion of willpower. If anything, they were intrigued.
These people were powerful, considering themselves among the apex predators of the realm, and though most were content with watching from afar, two decided to reach out.
More accurately, it was one person who decided to reach out—dragging her reluctant partner along.
Monica Ruinwright pulled herself sharply out of the water the moment the explosion hit, her gaze snapping south in shock as the earth trembled beneath her feet despite being a mile away from the blast.
"What the hell was that?" she asked her reluctant partner, who remained underwater with his eyes closed, boils and sores still leaking mucus all over his skin from where Wretchlings had attacked him.
"Baxter, wake up!" Monica snapped as she pulled herself out of the water, entropy essence leaking slightly from her core. "We have to check that out."
"We don't have to check anything out until I'm fully healed of the poisons from those blasted insects," Baxter replied.
But Monica was barely listening as she hastily pulled on her shirt. "Whoever that person is, they're certainly very powerful. We must reach them and ally with them before someone else does if we're to make it out of this cursed place."
"Or we could just leave them alone," Baxter shot back, opening one eye to glare at his partner. "If they're as powerful as that explosion suggests, what makes you think they want to ally with us? How do we know they won't just kill us at first sight of our drenched and sore-covered bodies?"
Monica turned to glare at him and raised an eyebrow. "First of all, I'm not covered in sores, nor will it take a minute to burn all this water from my skin." Entropy essence engulfed her for a moment, drying her skin to prove her point. But when Baxter still refused to budge, she sighed. "Come on, Baxter, you can't surely be content with this cursed place."
"I am not," Baxter hissed, opening his eyes once more to glare at Monica. "I hate this place just the same as you do. Maybe even more, Monica; look at my skin. Do I look content to you?"
"So, why won't you take action?"
"Because I know you, Monica. More likely than not, things will go off the rails, and with a blast of willpower that powerful, I'd rather not get into any fight."
"I'm not a meathead." Monica scowled at him.
"I didn't say you were," Baxter shot back. "But I'm not saying you aren't either."
They glared at each other for a good few seconds before Monica finally relented. "Okay. I promise to stay as calm as a butterfly. Get us close to the blast so we might at least speak to this mysterious person. And bring those stupid water cores we gathered. If they are a potential ally, then it's best we go bearing gifts."
Baxter glared at her for a moment longer before finally giving in. After his battle with the wretchlings, he would have preferred to remain in the water until the sores on his body healed. But he knew Monica well enough to know that she would go without him if he kept refusing, and then he would eventually regret letting that happen. They had been friends for years, after all.
Better to go with her now, where he could keep any battles from happening.
Groaning again, Baxter pushed himself out of the cold, blissful water, gritting his teeth in pain as his sores began to itch. Grimacing in annoyance, he stepped out of the water, grabbed the bag of cores he'd created with his cosmic essence, and turned to glare at Monica.
"If this turns into a battle, I swear I will leave you there. I cannot afford any more injuries with these boils."
Monica's response to his warning, however, was a snapped, "Hurry up."
Baxter's scowl deepened, but he obeyed, his right arm flaring out to warp space and draw them toward the origin of the explosion.
***
Back in the macabre clearing of frost and winter, Aodhán and Varéc deactivated their stealth perk as they descended onto a patch of crimson ice.
"By all the stars, Daruk," Aodhán marveled as he stepped down from Varéc, his eyes wide with both horror and amazement at the grotesque displays surrounding him. "This is disturbingly amazing."
He stepped forward, mouth opening to speak again—only for ice spikes to slam up from the ground like teeth, their gleaming points a hair's breadth from piercing his chest. He glanced up at Daruk in horror, eyes wide. "Wha—
"Reveal yourself before I kill you right where you stand." Daruk cut him off with a sharp glare, his aura still billowing around him densely.
"What—" Aodhán asked, confused. "What do you mean, 'reveal myself?"
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
Varéc growled loudly behind him, lightning already gathering in his jaws in preparation for an attack, but Aodhán suspected that was the last thing he needed right now. He speared Varéc with a warning glance before turning his gaze back to Daruk, his hands slightly raised to show that he had no intention of violence. "What's going on with you, Daruk? Are you alright?"
Daruk's aura surged, and the temperature dropped even further as his eyes narrowed in anger. "How dare you use the form of my brother and his familiar to deceive me? You have one more chance, illusionist. Reveal yourself before I erupt this whole clearing in a barrage of jagged ice spikes."
Aodhán's frown deepened, and for a moment he was completely confused. But then Daruk's words registered fully, and he suddenly realized what the problem was.
"I'm not an illusionist, Daruk," he responded carefully. "Varéc and I just gained a new perk. I should have realized that appearing literally out of thin air would have set you on edge. How can I prove to you that I am saying the truth?"
Daruk frowned, his expression softening from outright malice to suspicion. He glared at Aodhán for a moment longer before asking, "If you are who you say you are, tell me a secret that only you and I know."
"I wouldn't have made it off the Raventhorn alive without you," Aodhán replied without hesitation and then smiled. "Also, you have a spider construct you named Sentinel."
Daruk smiled, relief shuddering visibly through his body, yet he didn't put down his hand. "I'm going to need something more concrete."
"I don't know, Daruk. I'm not sure Arnold Frostbourne would approve of all this posturing."
That was apparently enough for Daruk, and he finally put his hand down, laughing. "Boy, am I glad to see your stupid face."
"And I yours," Aodhán chuckled while Varéc snorted, feigning disinterest in Daruk as he turned to glare at the litter of frozen creatures surrounding him.
Aodhán moved forward until he was only a few feet away from Daruk before gritting out, "Do you mind fixing the temperature, sovereign one, because I can already feel the frostbite creeping in?"
"Sorry, sorry." Daruk reduced the chill to an acceptable degree, and Aodhán finally stopped shivering. Daruk smiled. "I want to hug you right now, but I fear contact with me at the moment will send you into a coma."
Aodhán raised a hand in amusement. "I don't doubt that after everything I've seen today." He smiled. "Congratulations, you've finally hit the golden rank of willpower condensation. I'm so happy for you."
Daruk's smile widened. "Thank you. You cannot imagine the rush of elation I felt at finally being able to use my full power."
Aodhán chuckled. "I truly cannot," he gestured to the frozen statues around them. "This is both amazing and concerning at the same time. Couldn't have found less brutal ways to kill them?"
"I wasn't particularly thinking at the time," Daruk laughed, and the chill dropped even further as the sky cleared. "They attacked me almost as soon as I arrived. I swear all I was thinking was shit shit shit."
They both laughed; however, the sound died in Aodhán's throat a few seconds later as two cores suddenly appeared within the range of his core sense. His gaze snapped toward the forest in alarm, and Varéc activated his stealth perk immediately, coming to stand behind them while growling softly.
"What is it?" Daruk asked, the temperature plunging back to freezing depths as he tensed.
Aodhán didn't have to respond because an instant later, two people stepped out from the tree line, their eyes wide as they took in the destruction that Daruk had created. Their steps faltered when their gaze finally landed on Aodhán and Daruk, and Aodhán grimaced as he identified one of them as the entropy woman who had seen his eyes back in the silence dungeon.
She scowled, her gaze darting toward Daruk immediately. When she confirmed that they were both in the evolved class, her scowl deepened into one of disdain. Her partner, however, kept moving forward, a little surprised by their status but seemingly less hostile. The man's core blazed brightly with cosmic affinity, and though his body was covered in sores and boils, Aodhán did not doubt his power.
"Can we take them?" Daruk asked, ice spikes already jutting out of the earth around him.
"No," Aodhán replied quickly. "They're too strong."
The entropy woman was at the 42nd tier, and her partner was at the 44th, placing both of them far outside their capacity even if he, Daruk, and Varéc decided to fight together. No, their only way out was to bluff, and Aodhán began preparing himself to put on a performance.
He raised himself to his full height and whispered to Daruk, "This might be a good time for Arnold Frostbourne to make an appearance."
Daruk's eyes widened slightly, but Aodhán immediately sensed the shift in his stance—a subtle but practiced motion as Daruk adopted a more regal posture, a scowl of disdain settling onto his face. The performance, however, quickly proved unnecessary.
A moment later, Varéc deactivated his stealth perk and let out a thunderous roar, lightning crackling across his pitch-black scales.
The newcomers staggered to a halt immediately, eyes wide as they stared at Varéc and then back at Aodhán. It only took the cosmic affinity man a second to connect the dots, and his eyes widened. "By Raol… you're the child prodigy. Aodhán Brystion."
Aodhán was a little surprised to have been recognized, but he should have expected it, especially among the Ragnarian captives. The woman, however, didn't seem to recognize him, and she turned to glare at her partner. "What are you talking about?"
The man shook his head in amazement. "Monica, this is the child prodigy I told you about during your mission in the central kingdom. Remember? I told you he gained himself a familiar at the evolved tier."
"He's still at the evolved tier!" the woman spat. "And so is his friend."
She glared at them and took a step forward. "We have no business with you, children. Where is the awakened who created this massacre?"
Aodhán hesitated, realizing they could play this very safe. They could simply say the person had left and that they had just happened to be passing by, but from the way the man kept staring between him and Daruk, Aodhán doubted that lie would work. Best to own it.
He glanced at Daruk, and Daruk sighed. "You're speaking to him. I did this."
The woman blinked at them in disbelief and shook her head. "No, that's not possible. It can't be possible."
The man, however, didn't look the least bit surprised as he nodded, "As expected from the friend of the child prodigy. We shall take our leave now."
"No," the woman snapped, jerking her arms away from the man. "How is this possible? You're only in the evolved class. How can you be the cause of such a huge explosion of willpower?"
"Look at his eyes, Monica," the man hissed, grabbing the woman's arm tightly. "Do they look like mere evolved class awakeneds to you?"
But the woman wasn't satisfied. She jerked her arm from the man's grip once again and turned to glare at Daruk. "How are you still standing? After releasing so much willpower, even a champion should be weakened. And yet, here you are, still standing. Do you think you can defeat us because you have a familiar fighting by your side?"
"No," Aodhán stepped in quickly. "We don't want to fight. We're all captives in this cursed realm. Our focus should be banding together to defeat the cultists and escape this blasted place rather than fighting among ourselves." He glanced at the man and smiled. "Wouldn't you agree?"
"I agree wholeheartedly," the man nodded and turned to glare at his partner. "Monica, let's go."
The woman hissed as the man dragged her, but she followed regardless, shooting them an unsettling glare before turning away.
Aodhán sighed in relief as they both turned to leave, but then the man paused, his eyes narrowing as they fixed on the bag hanging from Varéc's neck.
"Are those conceptual cores, by any chance?" he asked, turning back fully to face them.
"They're shadow cores," Aodhán replied carefully.
The man's smile returned, and he exchanged a meaningful look with Monica. "How would you feel about trading those for water cores?"
"What are you doing, Baxter?" The woman hissed, but the man ignored her and continued.
"Monica here had quite the adventure in a swamp while the rest of us dealt with insects and—" his gaze swept over Daruk's frozen massacre "—reptilian nightmares, it seems."
Aodhán exchanged a glance with Daruk before responding. "Can we see the cores?"
The man smiled and pulled out a shimmering bag from thin air. He jingled the bag and placed it on the ground, revealing dozens of shimmering blue cores.
"A bag for a bag, and we'll be on our merry way."
Aodhán glanced at the woman and quickly avoided her furious gaze. He exchanged another look with Daruk, then nodded. "We'll take it."
He pulled the bag off Varéc with {Storm Manipulation} and placed it by the man's feet. "There are over a hundred cores in there."
The man's smile widened. "There are almost two hundred here, but we can't absorb them anyway, so..."
Aodhán wanted to ask if they planned to absorb the shadow cores, but he decided it wasn't his concern and simply picked up the translucent bag the man had given him.
The man shouldered his new acquisition, and with a final nod, he warped space, dragging a furious Monica along with him. Daruk breathed out a sigh of relief the moment they vanished and whispered, "Varéc, we might just owe you one."
Aodhán chuckled while Varéc snorted, sliding back down to lay his head against the frozen ground. Aodhán turned to examine the bag of cores, and his eyes widened in pleasant surprise when he found that out of the almost two hundred cores in the bag, more than half of them were above the 30th tier.
It was a fine haul in exchange for the shadow cores, and with a grin, Aodhán turned to Daruk and said, "We've dallied long enough in evolved class. If we're to survive this realm, we have to evolve. And as fate would have it, we have more than enough cores to do so."
He glanced at the bag once again and then amended his statement. "At least, we should as soon as we harvest the cores from these macabre statues you created."