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Elysium's Multiverse-Chapter 326
Chapter 326
Chapter 326
Their pursuers were still coming, but they were far, far behind.
And there was nothing they could do now. He was finally done.
Riven felt the piece of soul lattice snap into place as it was violently ripped out of Fay’s previous summoner, and Jarrod’s spirit wailed in agony beyond what a physical wound could employ. That alone would have been enough to send the thrilling sensations of glee through Riven’s mind, because fuck that guy, but it was also amplified by the enormous surge of energies along his connection to Fay.
Pieces of soul lattice, scaffolding for his future cultivation, snapped together - molding, forming, and merging his soul’s tether to Fay’s own with layer upon layer. Just like his connection to Athela where they could speak mind to mind, where their connection was rock solid beyond a shadow of a doubt - so too had Fay’s transformed. The bond was like refined steel, unshakeable, and he knew without a doubt that severing their connection like the cultists had many months before would be much harder to accomplish.
Smiling at the warm sensations he got back from the succubus, he let Jarrod’s shredded spiritual remnants fall away into the void like trash into a garbage can.
[You have killed Fay’s old warlock summoner, and have ripped out the piece of his soul lattice that was once holding Fay’s contract - absorbing it into your own soul lattice to further solidify your bond. Fay will now experience growth similar to your own, and like Athela - will absorb a piece of Gluttony’s power into her own spirit over time.]
[Floor 40: A Dark Delve Through Time and Space, Part 2, is about to begin.]
WHUMPH
He really couldn't wait to get back to Panu, where portal-hopping wasn’t so god-damn prevalent. Just how many pocket realms and related bullshittery did the Abyssal Descent have anyways?
Riven blinked, finding his minions all gone yet again. This time, though, it was different. The bonds through his soul tethers were all there… but they were… ethereal, almost. It was like he wasn’t supposed to be here, like the bonds were not supposed to be there, but a faint whisper - much like how he saw through the ripples of time with Malignant Prophecy on the rare occasions it activated.
But this had nothing to do with Malignant Prophecy actually activating. Rather, the currents of time seemed… wrong, and Malignant Prophecy seemed like it wanted to pull him back to wherever it was he’d been moments ago before he’d arrived in this place.
He was standing alone in a small cave that burned with cinders all along the rock walls. A large lake made from lava bubbled and churned to his right, and the skulls and bones of various demons and monsters were piled in one corner. There was also a tunnel leading out and upwards, where a large and very dead hellscape brutalisk sat impaled and pinned with an enormous obsidian spike adjacent to the tunnel’s entrance along the far wall. It was huge, many times even Azmoth’s own giant form when he was the size of a four story building, and the spike piercing it was leeching some kind of acidic poison that was eating away at the monster’s spot of fatal injury. This pinned demon was also much bulkier than Azmoth’s bigger form was, and it was also female - the very first that Riven had ever seen of this species.
Whatever had killed it must have been quite powerful.
But why was he here?
Based on the Part 1 of this floor, he assumed that any other parts would also involve incorporating his other close minions into his soul lattice. To make them permanent parts of his ascendancy. And if this dead female brutalisk was a hint…
He tugged at his tether to Azmoth, but was unable to summon the demon or get a response.
Instead… he felt an adjacent tugging. One that led over to just below the corpse of the impaled giant in the cave beyond.
This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.
Strange.
His shadow-crafted cloak billowed in a hot wind from the mouth of the tunnel exiting upwards, and his warlock’s staff clicked audibly across the stones and over the bubbling magma. Red eyes flicked left and right, and he giggled to himself when he thought about how much he looked like a sith-lord.
Though, perhaps… just maybe… he should lay off the better-than-though juice. He’d been changing rather rapidly concerning his outlooks on mortals, and though he didn’t find a flaw int his thinking - that in itself was potentially a problem. Was this really him thinking like this? Was it Gluttony’s influence instead? If it was the latter, he’d have to be very careful about not losing himself along the way. His gut told him that he’d just snapped and finally hit the breaking point of not caring anymore after all he’d gone through, but it was better safe than sorry and safeguards may need to be implemented after he did a little bit of introspection.
Cautiously he got up and underneath the enormous brutalisk corpse stuck to the wall, not seeing any signs of danger upon his approach. Following the pull of his soul tether to Azmoth, he rounded one of the enormous legs. Avoiding the dripping blood of the evolved archdemon’s corpse above him, he suddenly stopped when he came to the end of the tether’s pull.
There, right in front of him and huddling behind a back claw of the behemoth’s foot, was a teeny tiny baby brutalisk. It was only three feet tall, and its armor plates weren’t all grown yet - leaving larger parts of fleshy muscle underneath as it quivered in fear behind the larger claw. It had two of its hands over its face, and two of its hands wrapped around its body while it rocked back and forth - sniffling to itself as it lightly cried. Or cried as much as a brutalisk could considering they had metal helmet-like masks over where their eyes should be, but it was obvious that the small demon was in distress. Next to the baby brutalisk were also fragments of what had once been a thick, iron-like egg.
He tugged on the link between him and his minion, and his eyes widened when he both saw and felt the little baby demon flinch in response. “Azmoth?”
The creature in front of him flinched again, but hesitantly looked up from where it was shivering and stared at him outright. It looked absolutely terrified.
Or rather, Azmoth’s younger self looked absolutely terrified. What was even worse, was the thick, green poison spreading from a long scratch along Azmoth’s right shoulder. Riven could literally see the poison, or acid, or whatever it was eating holes into the infant - and it was spreading along the veins as the trembling grew more violent.
[Floor 40: A Dark Delve Through Time and Space, Part 2, has begun. One cannot go back in time in their own reality, it is simply impossible. Or… can they? Whether or not there is a means to travel through time across all of creation’s threads, it is certainly not known amongst anyone or anything, anywhere, who is currently alive. You have instead been sent to false reality that has a lagging timeline, where Azmoth's false replica will not survive this encounter. His mother has been prematurely killed, and he will die along with her unless the tomb-wyrm’s venom is eliminated. Azmoth, in this false reality, is simply destined to become food for the vultures. Or, more accurately, for the tomb-wyrm that killed his mother. Your task, oh Gluttonous one, is to save baby Azmoth from the tomb-wyrm’s venom. But beware, because the wounds on Azmoth and his mother are still fresh. The tomb-wyrm is still here.]
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As a habit ever since Lillith’s training on Floor 1, regularly pulsed his mana out in waves like an echo detection to avoid assassins. Here was no different, and before Riven even finished reading the last line of the notification he had seen the viper’s strike incoming. ℞áℕőᛒĘṤ
The massive creature was perfectly blended into the surroundings, obviously using a cloaking ability, but more than that - much of its body was actually curled up and around into the tunnel’s exit. However, the massive circular mouth full of teeth was hard to miss when it moved fast enough to disrupt whatever that stealth ability was - and Riven’s pulsing mana finally caught wind of it when the spike was launched from deep in the wyrm’s throat.
Riven’s body shattered space as he ripped through darkness, dragging baby Azmoth along with him as the stone underneath his feet was eradicated in flecks of ejected spine and acid. He was halfway across the cavern lair, charging a blood nova within his pearl as his totem swarm flared out in a spinning ring.
Then he got a good look at the beast that’d killed Azmoth’s mom as the chameleon effect wore off.
[Level 299 Tomb-Wyrm. ELITE.]
Large, gray scales made from some kind of alloy silently coiled as the creature moved at a dead-silent but semi-rapid pace towards him. Slithering like a snake across the smoldering stone floor, the beast had no eyes and was two dozen feet in diameter while being an unknown length as most of the body was still up the tunnel into this place. The maw was circular with incurvating teeth lined down the throat in rows, and some kind of muscular mechanism held and propelled obsidian spikes from somewhere deep within the beast’s belly. If Riven had to guess, the green acidic poison on those spikes it launched was actually an incredibly potent stomach acid.
The name ‘Tomb-Wyrm’ was fitting considering how it was probably once the lair of Azmoth’s mother, and would now become her tomb before she was likely eaten. Before that grim reality took place though, Riven had to get the fuck out of here - and there was only one way out.
Testing its defenses, Riven launched a flurry of gluttonous storm razors at the creature. Spinning circular blades of extremely sharp blood, infused with black lightning and erosive sin, bloomed around him and rushed like a wave to crash into the monster’s scales.
The monster seemed absolutely unhindered, and only picked up speed from a slow slither to a fast glide. Even the corrosive sin energies seemed to do little more than simmer and fizzle out, meaning that whatever kind of defenses the wyrm had - they were incredibly good. Riven spat, and plumes of blood began to trickle up his right arm as Azmoth squirmed in his left. Curling his fingers and swinging his staff to point in the direction of the wyrm, Riven let out a critical storm lance that screamed through the air and smashed into the beast’s protective scales with a trail of storm energy in its wake.
[You have landed a critical hit. Max Damage x3.]
The projectile caused the wyrm to stagger, and two tiny scales were torn off its side.
But that was it.
Riven stood there, gawking at the giant beast as it let out an ear-piercing scream before launching itself with all its might in his direction.
The spinning totems rotated faster and produced four shields of ice directly in the monster’s wake, but the beast crashed through the ice shields like they were paper plates and it did the same to a fifth ice shield that Riven conjured next.
The walls of crimson shattered and sprayed shrapnel in all directions, and the underground cavern shook with the monster’s hungry challenge as sparks were seen due to the friction between silver scales and the stone floor beneath.
Riven only took one more glance down at Azmoth to see that the poison was quickly killing his younger-than-usual friend, and that just wouldn’t do. Baby Azmoth had passed out entirely and wasn’t even responsive anymore, he was just limp - with large portions of his upper body slowly being eaten away as veins pulsed along the fleshy parts of Azmoth’s body. He had to think of something fast, and if he was right - then this creature either hunted through mana signatures or soul signatures. It certainly didn’t use heat because this entire cavern was volcanic, likely somewhere in the pits of hell, and it didn’t have eyes. Riven had the perfect bait and switch for either occasion.
Each of his totems could use mana, and they all had soul fragments inside them. If he couldn’t kill the beast fast enough, or at all, then he’d simply draw it away.
[Hive Totems of Bloodforged Rift Sparks (Lesser Artifact, Elite Tier, Level 80 Totem Swarm): These totems come as a set, and new totems can be added to this number at the additional cost of Willpower - with each totem adding exponentially more Willpower to the cost. Cost of Willpower is based upon attitude towards the wielder of this totem set, as well as current combat level. Current Requirements: 119 Willpower, Blood Sub-Pillar, Shadow Sub-Pillar. Bound to Riven Thane.
Adding different types of totems will change the name and description of this totem set.
Current Totems in Hive Swarm:
The Path of Red and Black has been imbued into these totems, along with numerous different sigils, and has used the blood of an ancient avatar of original sin to fuel its growth. This totem has the ability to grow and level up, but diminishes in level each time one of its totems are destroyed. This totem swarm can currently perform the following abilities:
He riftwalked right, with his totems, and the beast followed in a mad rush. He did the same again to the left, and the beast was still hot on his heels. Then he poured mana into his four totems, reduced his own mana output - ambient and active - while using one of his totems to riftalk yet again. This time when he exited the rift, his four totems had gone through four other rifts simultaneously - and the wyrm went from speeding dead-set on his location to thrashing in anger. It looked from one location to another, hissing violently and spitting green flecks of acid before choosing one of the totems and barreling towards it.
Riven had been correct.
Commanding his four totems up and out into the tunnels beyond, he began to lead the enormous, tanky bastard of a monster away from the cavern - and he quickly got to work. No doubt the monster would soon return to eat the large corpse on the wall, so this couldn’t take long.
Baby Azmoth was in bad, bad shape. Riven didn’t know how the stomach acid was spreading through the veins like a poison but it obviously was by the way the vessels were bulging and dissolving, or the black streaks of necrosis along the otherwise red musculature where Azmoth’s protective plating hadn’t grown in yet. Riven checked his spatial bag first to see if he had any potions that may work, and was relieved when he had a few that may just do the job. Putting down three extremely potent F-grade health potions, a mana potion, a resist poison potion, and a stamina potion - he drenched Azmoth’s wounds and force fed the baby brutalisk everything. At the same time, he also started using blood manipulation and Voodoo Doll to draw out Azmoth’s blood and purify it of toxins - forcefully removing particles of green gunk with his mana in large quantities of the stuff. At the same time, Voodoo Doll was also used to keep the infant alive.
[Voodoo Doll (Blood)(Tier 2): Scan your target to map out their vessels and infuse your mana into their bloodstream. You then gain the ability to replicate their bloodstream regardless of whether or not they have extensive wounds - enabling you to keep them alive as long as their brain remains intact. You may also use this ability on hostiles to form painful blood clots. Heart attacks caused by this ability do critical strike damage. Dependent on both Intelligence(90%) and Willpower (10%) stats. Medium cooldown. This is a channeling ability and will not work if interrupted by using other spells.]
He sat there for a solid few minutes just channeling the ability until he was sure that the blood looked more natural, or as natural as demonic blood god. He didn’t often see Azmoth’s blood but when he did, it was either burned and black - or a darker burgundy color than what Riven was used to from mortals. Worked the same though, and before he knew it - baby Azmoth was coughing and being sealed shut by the potions.
Riven smiled fondly at the wimpering little guy, and patted him on the head. Even if this Azmoth wasn't real, it felt right to make sure the projection - or whatever this version of baby Azmoth was - felt safe. “One day, you and me are going to be good friends. You just don't know it yet.”
Riven held out a hand to playfully shake the baby demon’s clawed fingers, which gripped onto him after a hesitant once-over. Seeing that Riven was the only one in the room, baby Azmoth merely held onto Riven’s arm more tightly and began to whine and shake. The kid was likely very traumatized from what’d happened, and it made Riven wonder what’d befallen Azmoth’s own mother - being the Azmoth that Riven personally knew anyways and not this baby replica.
Sighing and wondering just what kind of waves he was going to make both here in this existence and the one he came from, Riven put the system shenanigans in the hands of Elysium once again and began to talk to the kid. He didn’t know if Azmoth understood the words he was speaking quite yet, but the baby demon certainly did understand images - and as Riven began to slowly explain to the child what was going on and what he wanted, Riven began to feel his connection to his own version of Azmoth resonate.
Their soul connection began to strengthen.