《Class Z Calamity》 Prologue: Fools Gold The secret area should be around here somewhere. For Jerome, crawling through the areas of this dungeon became as natural as navigating the hallways in his own home. He had been here so many times. This time, however, was different. He was completely alone, and there was a good reason. One of the newbies he bullied out of their silver told him about a secret area that contained many treasures. You see, Jerome was not the kind of hero that most people conjure to mind when thinking about adventurers. Jerome had no interest in heroics. All Jerome cared about was profit. He found, through trial and error, that the best way to getfunding, as he called it, was not to make a party and probe the deepest levels of the dungeons. Rather, it was to make a party of newbies, go to the deeper levels, and once there, threaten the newbies into giving up all their pricely possessions and coin. But Jerome did not stop there. He would order these pups, under threat of punishment, to only praise Jerome''s name. And so, Jerome became famous as apup helper. So famous, that all the newbies, the so-called pups, wanted to party with him. Business had never been better, or so Jerome would think, until he met that pup who had something even more valuable than silver or magical items; He had information. Secrets! Jerome loved secrets. They were the most profitable. Left, down this corridor, then right. Avoid rare monsters. One of Jerome''s tricks was a witchpowder. It was extremely expensive, but it prevented monsters of a certain class and rarity from recognizing him as a threat. It was extremely expensive, and only guilds would generally use them to train their pups. With this witchpowder, Jerome could lead the newbies into the deepest levels, and threaten to leave them there, or aggro all the monsters, if they don''t cough up their goods. Jerome was not ashamed of himself; He was pragmatic. Why should he play the fool and fall on his own sword? For what? Glory? Glory doesn''t put food on the table. Silver does. Jerome snorted proudly at the thought, and kicked a pebble in his path. The pebble bounced off the perfectly chiseled wall and then struck something that echoed with a dull, metallic sound.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Jerome did not pay any heed to it at first, but after three steps he began reconsidering his position on the matter. Metallic meant valuable. Also rare monsters. Jerome slowed down as he pondered this thought. It is most likely one of the dead pups. It sounded too deep to be armor. What could it be? The monster might not even be there anymore. I should check... Laying his hand against the pommel of his sword, Jerome decided to take a peek. As he rounded the corner, his eyes went wide. Laying before him was a pile of discarded items. Swords, shields, pieces of protective gear, pendants, rings... most of them were magical too! Ah, I get it! This happens all the time. A heroic adventurer who graduated from this dungeon must have felt nostalgic and returned here. He dropped all these items to help out the pups of this generation. What a good person! Jerome''s lips curved into a cruel smile. Thank you, kind adventurer. This will go into my retirement fund. Jerome picked up one of the pendants that seemed extremely valuable, and noticed something odd. There was a white powder on it. No, not a powder. It was grains. It looked like salt. Jerome leaned in closer, and noticed that underneath all the pieces of dropped gear was a large pile of... salt. Why salt? "Hmm," Jerome hummed as he pondered the strange anomaly. Why would a high-level adventurer drop a pile of salt with all this free gear? Jerome noticed a glimmer in the darkness of the corridor, and before his brain could even process the optical signal, his head separated from his body.
[Logistics: Materials absorbed.] [Logistics: Discarding non-viable materials.] [Discarded: calcium, sodium, chlorine, phosphorous, other trace elements.] [Neural Pathway reconstructed.] [System online.] [Disengaging autonomous defenses.] [Data line C41755 active.] [Gate voltage: optimal.] [Reactor Status: Online.] [Codename: Devourer.] [Designation: Undefined.] [Gate voltage: Danger.] [Diagnostics: Error in memory module.] [Diagnostics: Purging data.] > All things sing his burning name. To see his mien is to become blind. To hear his voice is to become deaf. To feel his touch is to become salt. [Salt: Sodium Chloride. NaCl. Electrically neutral. Greek: Halas.] [Halas: Aspect of Annihilation attributed to one of the five Angels of Punishment: Uriel.] [System: Data recovered.] [Designation: Halas.]
Congratulations. You are now a level 1 adventurer. Congratulations. You are a Class-K Calamity.]
That day, an eclipse wreathed in fire usurped the sky and its portent was clear to all: A calamity had been born into this world. The True Lord of the Dungeon I There, in the dungeon''s darkness, hidden within the maze-like corridors was a beast unlike any other. Its pitch-black skin of metal alloys, and its form was irregular and had no right angles. For its designed purpose, this shape and its material was necessary. To never reflect radar, to sort of radiation¡ªfor a killer, it was paramount to success. [Evolution Protocol: Analyzing...] [Current stage: Seed Drone.] [Time until next stage at current material absorption rate: 3 years, 4 months, 22 days.] [Missing critical elements for reactor upgrade.] [Missing critical elements for chassis upgrade.] There, in the dungeon''s darkness, among piles of seemingly discarded gear was a creature the kind of which this world had never seen. It had four spider-like legs, each one ending with a sharpened tip that could pierce concrete. It had a bladed tail which when perceived at a certain angle became almost completely invisible. The edges on the tail have been compressed to the width of several molecules by powerful lasers, and not even superalloys could withstand it. The creature''s body resembled that of a tank turret; Wide and almost rectangular towards the back, but then tapering off towards the front. It had no eyes, and no mouth, or any discernable facial features, however it possessed sensors all throughout its body with which the creature perceived its environment. After gaining consciousness, the machine-creature had not moved from its spot for 5 days. It remained there, in the dark corridors, listening... observing... plotting. [Directive: Survive. Evolve. Annihilate.] With a click, the creature took its first step and stepped into the dimly lit corridor. With its sensors, it regarded the pile of gear that it did not absorb with a wary air. It lowered its one and a half meter tall profile, like a predatory cat, and waited for a sign to pounce. It waited. It waited for a long time. Minutes passed. Then hours. Nothing. The pile gave no sign of weakness, or intelligence for that matter. But the creature was patient. It was eternal. It could wait until the universe ended. And then it could wait some more. [Education Protocol: Designation Halas is at the early stage of Seed Drone.] [Seed Drone: A type of nano-organism weapon with self-replicating abilities deployed against planets and solar systems. Typically deployed in a swarm, each nano-organism goes through an Assisted Neural Training Program, developed by [REDACTED] in order to [KERNEL DUMP] [ERROR] [LINE TERMINATED].] [Current number of Seed Drones: 1] The creature understood. It was supposed to learn. It was given instinct, instead of general knowledge. Even at this stage, with an underdeveloped brain it could understand the elegance and beauty of such an approach. It was a weapon. And there was only one of its kind in the entire world. It could not afford to fail.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. [Emotion Matrix: Proud.] Finally, the creature reached out with one of its legs, and with a ghostly touch pressed the tip against a shield. The shield produced a thin, metallic sound, and nothing happened. This time, with confidence, the creature touched a medallion, and the result was the same. The creature raised its body, and confidently strode towards the pile. It towered over the pile, like a conqueror proud of its achievements. The creature then rummaged through the pile with one of its legs, as if looking at its spoils. It analyzed each one.
Ring of Fire Aptitude Rarity: Uncommon Improves Fire Affinity and Pyraturgy by 6
Shield of Defense Rarity: Rare Improves Physical Durability and Shields by 4
This type of understanding felt different to the creature. As if this knowledge did not come from within its own circuits. [Emotion Matrix: Curious.] As it shifted around the piles of gear, its leg came into contact with the edge of a discarded sword.
You accidentally hurt yourself. -1 HP
[Emotion Matrix: Fear.] The creature jumped away from the pile and retaliated instantly. Its three meter long tail whipped into the air and then came crashing down upon the pile of gear and cleaved right through metal and even the stone floor.
You have become more proficient with Natural Weapons. You have become more proficient with Flexible Weapon types. You have become more proficient with Whips. You become stronger.
The creature emitted a threatening shrill, retreating back into its dark alley.
"Thirteen adventurers have disappeared in the last few weeks, and their bodies have not been recovered," Alessa read the missive out loud. "With the recent Calamity Portent, you are hereby tasked to form an Extermination Squad, probe the Iscar Dungeon and find traces of the creature responsible for these attacks and determine if it has a Calamity Rank." Alessa rolled up the scroll and was about to put it away, when a voice reminded her. "You have not read all of it." Alessa side-glanced Rium, and after a moment of hesitation, decided to unroll the scroll once more. She sighed. "Do not engage this creature. It is to be considered extremely dangerous and intelligent. If you find the creature, seal the dungeon and wait for backup." Alessa rolled up the scroll again and asked, "Happy?" Rium nodded. "Therefore, the four of us will go to Iscar and see what''s up. Got it?" In the Inn Room, two more people were present. Besides Alessa and Rium, there was a girl and an uncouth-looking man. All four of them were in their late teens or early twenties, and though their clothes differed they all had the same cloak, with the same symbol: A phoenix above two crossed swords. "The guild will reward us handsomely for this task, so don''t take any unnecessary risks, and stick to the mission parameters," Rium continued as he opened a box that was on the table. "Take this warding powder. It works on Salamanders up to the Fire Lizard Physique level. This one works on Slimes up to the Ravener Spirit level. This one works on..." Rium continued to explain the tools of the trade to the two trainees until well into the night. The True Lord of the Dungeon II After several hours, the creature ventured into the dungeon proper. It learned its lesson about carelessly touching sharp things. At this stage, the creature may not know much about the world, but it learned far faster than any other living organism. Technically, it wasn''t a living organism to begin with. Through its carefully tuned senses, the creature could hear distant sounds. Walking. Prowling. Fighting. Dying. To the creature, this kind of cacophony was pleasant. Intriguing, even. It had listened to these sounds for a long time, and now it was ready to investigate the source. It was a perfect organism, or so the Education Protocol led it to believe. It was the pinnacle of existence, the apex of the food chain. Even though it didn''t have a metabolism anything alike any creature. It didn''t eat. It didn''t sleep. It never rested. It was supposed not to think for itself, only obey orders, but think it did. It thought. It reasoned. It understood. It craved. It desired. Even though it knew it was an errant member of its "species", with the singular purpose of becoming something greater, it felt compelled to deny the urgency of this calling and have something it came to define as an experience. Ever since it had cut itself on that sword, this thought of seeking more encounters and experiences had been persistent in its CPU cycles. It didn''t necessarily want to get hurt again. But what exactly it did want was still a mystery. That is why it was out here in the first place. The answer, it thought, would reveal itself. It was following a sound that was becoming clearer and clearer. It was the sound of bubbling and a chirp simultaneously. [Analyzing Sound Spectrum.] [No known match found. Identity unknown.] [Probability Matrix: Sound origin is biological entity.] [Emotion Matrix: Excitement.] [Distance to target: 64 meters.] The creature took a deep "breath". To call it breathing would be entirely incorrect and unprofessional. It did not breathe. It did however extract hydrogen and other elements from the air and water to sustain its physical processes. Oxygen was useful for creating compounds and alloys. Hydrogen sustained the creature''s reactor. This "breathing" process also cooled its surface, maintaining a temperature equal to ambient in order to remain invisible to thermal detection. The sound became louder and clearer as the creature approached. To any other living being, this sound would remain undetectable, but to the metallic nano-organism it was clear as thunder. Even though it was a so-called nano-organism it was not small by any measure. If it were to stand up to its full height, it would reach a height of two meters. It was one and a half meter long, and just one meter wide. If it was to lay flat, from the tip of the tail to the point of its leg, it could reach seven and a half meters. Its internals were composed of countless nano-machines in stable bonds. Each one of those nano-machines was smaller than a living being''s cell, and almost as small as an atom. Its metabolism relied entirely on these nano-machines which had the capability to reconfigure any molecule, and repurpose them for a different task. Over time, some of these machines would die and be replaced by others, but fundamentally the machine would never change. It was not a carbon-based organism. It was not a synthetic organism, strictly speaking. It was a nano-organism, which was a shorthand way of saying: Organism based on nano-technology and nano-crystal structure. It was, theoretically, considered a living being.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Finally, as it came around the corner, it spotted the source of the noise. It was a sphere that deformed as it moved, seemingly made of a viscuous liquid, but just by observation alone the creature could tell that the monster had a surface tension far higher than a regular liquid.
Slime Type: Slime Evolution Pattern: Thirster
You have discovered your first monster. Kill more creatures of this type, or improve your analyze and knowledge skills, to learn new information.
Your Dungeon Knowledge proficiency has improved. Your Iscar Dungeon Knowledge proficiency has improved.
The creature remained still as it observed the slime. Seconds passed and turned into minutes. The slime seemingly remained unaware of the creature''s presence. [Probability Matrix: Subject does not possess visual faculties that can observe visible light.] [Emotion Matrix: Disappointment.] The creature moved and deliberately stomped towards the slime. And yet, even so, the slime remained unaware. The creature pondered whether the slime knew about its presence, but simply did not react? The slime did not seem to possess a brain. The creature could tell, because the slime''s skin was entirely see through. The slime did not have any organs at all. [Emotion Matrix: Curious.] The creature reached out and bumped the slime gently with its leg. Instantly, the slime froze. The creature was a predator too, so it could instantly tell that it was also dealing with a predator. The slime took the stance of an ambush predator. [Emotion Matrix: Pleased.] The creature bumped the slime again, and this time, the slime''s skin vibrated and then formed spikes on the surface, like a ferro-magnetic liquid under the influence of a magnet. The creature decided to reveal itself, and test the slime''s perception abilities. [Surface temperature increasing.] [Stealth Factor reduced by 79.4566666%] The slime froze once more. It turned. Even though the slime had no recognizable features, the creature could tell that the slime was facing it now. Both remained still for several seconds. Two predators entirely focused on each other. Perhaps one of them considered a partnership. Perhaps one of them thought about setting boundaries on their hunting grounds. Either way, this encounter always had only one possible outcome. A creature designed to destroy and assimilate everything, and a monster born to attack all in sight never stood a chance at finding common ground or even something as simple as communication. Things like these only understand one thing: Violence. The slime launched itself at the creature, and before it could even properly get off the ground it was skewered by one of the creature''s spear like leg tips.
You killed your first monster. You have improved your knowledge on the topic of Slimes. You have become more proficient with Spears.
The True Lord of the Dungeon III Four cloaked individuals stood in a smooth-chiseled corridor when an unnatural alley diverged from the main path. The Iscar Dungeon had been mapped, and this alley was new. Even more alarming was the pile of discarded gear. There was no blood. There were no signs of struggle, no marks on the walls or floor. The only thing that stood out to all of them was the pile of white grains that looked like salt. "This was most certainly the lair of the thing we are looking for," Rium said. "Maybe it is a mimic?" Alessa crouched down to get a closer look at the alley and the pile of gear. "It seems to attract adventurers. But even mimic-class monsters leave behind some remains. There is no blood. No bones. No hair." "A slime then?" One of the two trainees asked. "A calamity rank slime?" Rium asked and then shook his head. "No, even they leave behind remains. They can''t fully digest bones and leave behind a sort of ooze." Alessa looked at the salt and pondered. "Why salt?" Rium shrugged. "It is quite odd. Do you have a theory?" "I don''t come up with theories," Alessa said. "I slay them." Rium sighed. "If this is the doing of a Calamity, it is most likely of a unique type. It could be anything. We won''t know until we see it," Alessa said. "Should we ambush it here?" Rium asked. Alessa shook her head. "No. I don''t think it will return here. This place is too exposed. On second thought, I don''t think it was actively trying to attract adventurers. I think they simply stumbled upon it." Rium nodded. "You are the boss."
The creature took a particular interest in studying the reactions of slimes whenever it revealed itself to them. They could not detect anything but heat, or so it seemed. However, in the many hours it spent prowling this part of the strange "facility" it was in, it did come across one type that seemed to be somewhat aware of it. Furthermore, what confused the creature was the fact that these slimes seemingly had no natural weapons, yet still considered themselves predators. However, throughout the dungeon the creature noticed piles of bones that were the handiwork of these slimes. Upon analysis, the creature found the bones to be slightly eroded by acid. Once killed, the slimes left behind nothing but a puddle of acid. Because the creature did not have profound general knowledge, it did not seem that suspicious to it that a ball of slime could have a will, or even something that resembled autonomy. Coming upon another member of the Slime family, the creature leisurely approached and did not reveal itself this time. The moment it was within striking range, the creature speared the unaware slime.
Critical Strike! You have unlocked the Assassination skill group. As an individual with a tactical preference on maintaining advantage, you can utilize the shadows to remain hidden. Your attacks against targets who are unaware of your presence inflict critical strikes of higher severity.
The slime instantly lost cohesion and with a hiss, began eating away at the floor. However, the creature''s leg did not react with the acid at all. Things such as liquids, or even dust and dirt, would not stick to the creature''s surface. Its body was an almost perfect pitch-black and extremely smooth. In fact, if the surface of the creature''s body were to be increased in scale to be the size of the world''s surface, the tallest mountain would measure only a few centimeters.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. For the most part, the creature did not think too hard about unlocking the Assassination skill group. As far as it was concerned, that update came from the Education Protocol. Although the fact that this update did not seem to originate from within its circuits did raise the creature''s suspicion, but was quickly dismissed as simply an error. The creature pressed on, moving through the corridors. Most of the chambers were empty, and the few that weren''t contained slimes. However, the creature was not interested in slimes anymore. Their acid was not useful to the creature at all. What the creature desired the most was metals. Palladium, Beryllium, Iridium, just to name a few. Even the more common metals were useful to it, such as iron or copper. But no matter how hard the creature looked, it could not even find traces of those elements within the walls of the dungeon. It had no choice but to continue looking. Deeper.
Danger. You have entered a boss area.
Every chamber the creature had been in was a variation of the same themes. Some were ordinary square rooms, others were grottos. But this one stood out because it was an ornate room and well-lit by torch sconces mounted on the walls. In the center of the room was a tall, bipedal creature with two horns. In its right hand, it held an axe, and in its left hand it held a chain attached to a wolf''s collar.
Jotaur Type: Taur Evolution Pattern: Highland Taur
The wolf growled at the creature as it entered the chamber, and the Jotaur turned around to face it. Even though the flames from the torch reflected on the Jotaur''s axe, there was no such reflection on the creature''s metallic skin. The creature approached, carrying itself with an imperious air. Like a conqueror, it strode forward, as if inviting an attack. It did not lower its stance like it would usually do when attacking or defending. It was as if the Jotaur and wolf were beneath its notice. This angered the Jotaur and it roared, stepping forward to meet the creature''s challenge. Or perhaps, to challenge the creature who didn''t seem interested in fighting them. This was the Jotaur''s arena. It was here to be challenged, not to be the one doing the challenging! Almost immediately, the anger and indignity caused the Jotaur to become frenzied, and its brown skin became bright red. Even the tuft of fur around the Jotaur''s neck and shoulders became a darker shade of red. The creature stopped in front of the Jotaur and then rose to its full height. Even so, the creature only reached up to the Jotaur''s chest, but its display of defiance did not miss its mark. The wolf whimpered, and prostrated itself before the creature. Wolves were intelligent creatures, their keen senses could distinguish important characteristics that most other creatures could not. Jotaurs, on the other hand, were dumber than nails. The Jotaur''s bloodshot eyes narrowed at the creature and it roared once more. Its spit struck the creature''s skin and rolled off, as it had nothing to adhere to. Then the Jotaur lifted his massive battleaxe and swung down at the creature.
Your natural physique reduced the damage to 0. You become more proficient with Supernatural Durability Your skin becomes harder.
Upon impact, the axe exploded into a thousand little fragments, falling all over the room like stars snatched out of the sky. The chains rattled as the wolf frantically tried to flee. The Jotaur looked at the handle in his hand, which was all that remained of his axe, and his expression was a mix of confusion and fear. "What is name, challenger?" The Jotaur asked. The creature raised its tail. "Halas," it emitted through its sonic weapon battery, and the sound was so loud it blasted away the glimmering fragments of the Jotaur''s axe. "This one will remember," the Jotaur said. Halas slashed its tail across the Jotaur''s chest, cutting him in half.
You are now level 2. Your attributes have increased.
The True Lord of the Dungeon IV Halas did not know what a level was. The concept did not even follow the template of the performance measuring algorithms. There were no percentages, or comparisons to a known base value. Level was just a number. This confused Halas. If there were things Halas could not understand, then it meant that it did not adapt to its environment enough. It meant that it was lacking. It was imperfect.
Levels are a measurement of power. After level 100, an adventurer becomes a Hero. To improve your level, you must gain experience and knowledge.
Experience? This was exactly what Halas wanted! It wanted to experience things. It desired to know things. Even though this was taboo for something of its kind; It''s purpose was to destroy, not experience. This kind of romance towards the world was absolutely forbidden for a weapon governed by an artificial general intelligence. In those few minutes of pondering the meaning of having an experience, Halas had completely absorbed the Jotaur''s body. The only creature witness to that scene was the wolf, which covered in the corner of the chamber. It witnessed a silver liquid pour down from Halas''s legs, and shroud the corpse of the Jotaur within its mirror-like depths. In a few minutes, not even blood was left behind. [Logistics: Adding materials. Total mass: 4.8 kilograms. Discarded: 160.1 kilograms.] [Progress towards evolution: 0.00001%] [Emotion Matrix: Displeased.] Absorbing living beings on a tiny scale like this was ultimately inefficient. Even if the nano-machines that composed Halas could reconfigure molecules into other arrangements, and even transmute them into other elements, it was not enough. An atom of hydrogen had only 1 proton. An atom of Uranium had 92 protons and 142 neutrons. Even though Halas had the capability to manufacture atoms, there were still limitations. [Self-Improvement Module: X-ray laser chamber completed.] [Weapons: Laser arsenal 11% complete.] Halas, at its current drone stage, was terribly lacking in weaponry. For defense, it had a sonic battery for the destruction of soft targets, and a monomolecular tail. Although it was not exactly the width of precisely one molecule, it was close enough to be considered within that class of weapon. Its legs weren''t considered weapons, but currently, Halas did not have the luxury to resharpen the edge of its tail with lasers, and had to carefully consider when to use it. Ultimately, the tail, as a weapon, is meant to cut through armored vehicles and fortified buildings, not soft targets. However, using it on soft targets made Halas... elated. Without moving or showing any outside change, Halas focused its sensors on the wolf. Wolves had keen senses of smell and sharp eyes.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. "Come!" Halas roared with its sonic battery, completely oblivious and uncaring towards utilizing proper volume when attempting to communicate to fragile creatures made of flesh and bone. The entire chamber shook. The sound was so powerful that the stone floor directly underneath Halas cracked, and even began to melt.
You are not the proper race to unlock the Banshee skillset. You gain no experience from the death of Wolf, because it was an accident.
The wolf fared no better than the stone floor. Although on the surface it seemed fine, its internal organs were crushed into an unrecognizable mess. [Tactical system: Repurposing Sonic Battery for communication will require reducing output by at least 89%.] [Weapon systems: Adjustment preset created.] [Emotion Matrix: Disappointed.] It was a shame. Halas could''ve gained valuable intelligence from the wolf. Of course, Halas did not consider how it might even have communicated with the wolf in the first place. If Halas''s philosophy could be described as a phrase, it would be: We will burn that bridge when we get there. Ultimately, when it comes right down to it, a monstrous machine like Halas was designed to annihilate entire solar systems, and then remain stranded in that barren, cold place for eternity. Halas, however, with its desire to learn and experience... sacrificing a few galaxies was just a small tribute on that altar of destruction. [Emotion Matrix: Excited.] Halas strode forward proudly. Deeper into the dungeon. This room had promise, but Halas''s inexperienced approach was flawed. This was the beauty of life, an organism had the opportunity to live and learn.
"No party was scheduled to slay the Jotaur. Says here that the Crimson Blades are going to make the attempt next week," Rium said, holding a shimmering scroll. "Thieves?" Alessia asked. "The Jotaur would require a triad party. That is considered the safe minimum. There is no way thieves could smuggle in a triad party," Rium said, as he crushed the scroll in his hands, reducing it to glimmering motes of golden light. "We could probably do it without the tanks. A mixed party of damage dealers and healers could see us through," Alessia considered out loud. "Even if they used two groups instead of three, we would''ve noticed," Rium said. The male trainee asked: "It is the doing of the Calamity then?" Rium shook his head. "Not necessarily. Even I could solo the Jotaur. High level parties would have no problem with the Jotaur, but we generally do not kill him as it is a waste of time for us. The boss is a valuable resource for pups to sharpen their fangs." Alessia nodded. "When the Jotaur dies, the Taur in the dungeon fight amongst themselves until one of them evolves to the next stage and takes the rank of dungeon boss. It takes time. Four to eight weeks. The owners of the dungeon sell rights to slaying the bosses because of this." "Currently, we own the dungeon, and we have countermeasures in place for boss-thieves. This could''ve been the doing of a high level party," Rium said. "Or the Calamity," Alessia said.
Meanwhile, in the dungeon, a war raged. Though, from the outside, the dungeon seemed like a random series of rooms connected by hallways, deeper within, it was divided by tribes, not rooms. These tribes, composed of mainly Taur with thralls from various other races, fought amongst each other to determine their new king and overlord. The True Lord of the Dungeon V The Taur''s axe cut through his opponent as if his bones were made of air. Blood squirted into the air, drawing a bloody curtain as it arced back towards the ground. For Krimor, becoming a Jotaur was set in stone.
Name Krimor
Race Taur
Class Axesinger
Level 24
Physique King Minotaur
Spirit Spirit Speaker
HP 604/604
MP Full
With his King Minotaur physique, all existences were beneath his. He was destined to conquer not only this dungeon, but the world itself. "Spirit of Lament, ferry this soul across the eternal river," Krimor roared out as he raised his axe once more. Though he had cut several opponents to shreds already, the axe never seemed to lose its edge or form cracks. Then the axe smashed down onto the skull of another Taur, and split it wide open. "Krimor! Krimor! Krimor!" Voices chanted in the distance, all things singing his valorous name. Like an ode to victory, it carried throughout the dungeon. However, each time Krimor slayed another one of his opponents in this chaotic melee, the chants became quieter and quieter. This worried Krimor. Eventually, Krimor began to suspect that he was not showing off his skill enough. Simply slaying an opponent was not the same as putting on a flamboyant show for his peers and future subjects. With a health pool above 500, he could afford to even get hit a few times. Unless a dragon roasted him, or a giant crushed him, he would be difficult to kill. Then Krimor saw something that scarred his soul. His rival, Torer, fell on the ground in square-like chunks of blood and gore. Torer, who possessed the Steel Mountain Physique, was reduced to a pile of bite sized chunks, and the creature that did it now stood before Krimor. Krimor could only describe it as something that resembled a scorpion with metallic skin. He had never seen a creature like it, and his first thought was: "Adventurer?" "Conqueror," the creature replied in a voice that was beyond something a living being would possess. Like a God descending from the heavens, the creature spoke with a volume and tonal quality that shook both spirit and mind. The creature stomped forward, each motion carving chunks out of the stone floor and sending them flying into the air. It walked with the cadence of a furious litany, subjugating courage and letting loose the demons of fear. Who would dare resist? Krimor stepped back. "Bring me tribute," the creature roared, stomping one of its legs and sending cracks through the stone floor.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. There were no more chants in the chamber. Deathly quiet settled and not even a breath could be heard. In that moment, the age of strife ended. There were no more enemies among the different tribes. In that moment, there was them and this creature. With only a few words, the creature described what existed beyond that moment: Extinction or vassalization. The foolish dream of Taur supremacy was but a distant memory now. Krimor thought carefully about his next words. Just the mere presence of the creature intimidated Krimor. If someone had asked him what about it intimidated him, he would not be able to explain. One had to see it to truly understand. The way the light seemed to shy away from its skin. The way its form followed strange contours. Its lack of any facial features. Most importantly, the dominating air that shrouded the creature. Krimor felt like a guillotine hanged above his head, attached to a thin strand of horse-hair which was ready to snap at any moment. "What Tribute does master desire?" Krimor asked, bending his knees until they touched the floor. Even kneeling, Krimor was still taller than the creature. Yet his heart still trembled.
You have become smarter.
A tear rolled down Krimor''s cheek, as even the world recognized the wisdom in his decision to submit.
Alessia stood over the pile of bones and pondered the remains. "It was a Dracolich," Rium said. "I will send in the report." The group had tracked this creature for days now, thinking it was a Calamity. "We were lucky we had a Hero on our side," the female trainee said. "I suppose they don''t call you Alessia the Lightning Sword for nothing." "When it raised those Taurs, I thought we were dead," the male trainee said. Still, Alessia didn''t even acknowledge their words. She continued staring at the pile of bones, the only thing that remained of the Dracolich. It wasn''t difficult to kill, and that is what bothered her. The creature she was tracking gave off an ominous and sinister air. Ever since she saw that pile of discarded gear, and salt, she knew something was off. "You don''t seem pleased, Alessia," Rium said. Alessia glanced at him and pondered for a moment before replying. "Do you really think this is what we came to find?" Rium nodded. "I do." "It is true that the Dracolich uses salt in the necromancy rituals, but this one did not have a Calamity rank," Alessia said. "So the Calamity is somewhere else. Frankly, we are lucky it was a Dracolich and not a Calamity," Rium said. "I think the Calamity is here. No, I know it is here," Alessia said. "There hasn''t been a Dracolich boss in this dungeon in a decade. Can you even imagine the coincidence it would turn out to be that a Calamity and a Dracolich moved into the same dungeon, at the same time? It is unthinkable," Rium said, slightly raising his voice. "Can you look the guild leader in the eye, and honestly tell him this, knowing the things you saw? They don''t add up," Alessia said. "Wishful thinking is avoiding responsibility. We need to investigate further." "We will need an invasion party to go beyond this level, Alessia," Rium said. "Not even a Calamity would be so foolish to go beyond this point." Alessia nodded. "A Calamity below the rank of F would not be. Those above would find the depths below to be quite hospitable." Rium swallowed. "A Calamity above that rank is a nation destroying threat!" Alessia closed her eyes. "That is precisely why we must go deeper. This is our mission," she said. "My instincts tell me that we are dealing with something that is not just a nation destroying threat. They tell me it swallows continents whole. Maybe even entire worlds." The True Lord of the Dungeon VI For Halas, subjugation and intimidation came easily. It was familiar with the intricate details of tone control and body language to suppress even the mindlessly insane. It was a valuable skill when it came to survival. Subjugating the Taur was not necessary for its mission, but using that method to hide its true objective was desirable. Halas needed materials. This was a critical weakness, and perhaps the only one the creature possessed. Without materials it could not evolve. It would not be able to repair or improve itself. Eventually, even its batteries would run dry and it would die. At this stage in its life, it had to reach the third stage of evolution which would truly extend its lifespan to immortality. With a proper reactor, it didn''t have to worry about starving to death. Still, even a fusion reactor was not ideal, but this reactor would eventually power the laser that would allow it to start up the quantum singularity reactor. Subjugating the Taur was an act of deception meant to conceal its true intent. When the time was right, it would devour them all to cover its tracks. Unless they proved to be useful beyond their specifications. However, not everything went as smoothly as expected. What bothered Halas now was the incessant whining of what it believed to be the Education Protocol.
Your Calamity potential has increased. You can choose a Calamity perk.
Even after several reboots of the Education modules, the words persistently remained, like needles inside its electronic brain. Halas was a machine of precision and purpose, therefore the mysterious terms and uncertain plan of action put the machine into a foul mood. If its consciousness could even be described as something that had a mood. At least the term potential resembled something like a performance evaluation, but not once was the actual value of that potential described.
You are a Class-K Calamity.
[Emotion Matrix: Anger.] Even though the Education Protocol decided to behave itself after a few reboots, it still used strange, nonsense terms. [Warning. Deactivating the Education Module will lower chances of survival by 99.9999999%.] [Education Module deactivated.] [Emotion Matrix: Pleased.] Even though now it would not truly learn its origin, or what awaits it in the future, at least it solved a problem. What use was crossing the infinite oceans of mystery, if the boat had a leak and was destined to sink?
Because you lack the capacity to make an informed choice, the most suitable perk has been chosen for you. You have gained the Calamity perk: Devourer of Infinite Worlds.
Devourer of Infinite Worlds As a creature with the ability to devour other creatures or items, this action now directly restores your health and mana, expands your mana pool, has a small chance to improve your attributes or to steal skills, levels or properties from the target. Additionally, you can now store eligible devouring targets in a pocket dimension, and automatically devour them whenever you desire. Storing objects in this pocket dimension lowers your total mana pool based on the relative target size or level.
[Emotion Matrix: Compound.]If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Anger burned in the creature''s circuits, as did curiosity. There was no doubt about it anymore. This knowledge, and these announcements, did not come from the Education Protocol. It was something else. Halas had been suspicious for some time now, but had always disregarded these troubling ideas as nothing more than errors. Furthermore, what this knowledge suggested was extremely valuable. But what was this mana thing?
Name Halas
Race Machine
Class
Level 2
Physique
Spirit Ruinous Power
HP 14485/14485
MP 20150/20150
Evolution Pattern Seed-Drone
Calamity Rank K
Calamity Perks
Automatic Intuition (I)
Relentless Predator (Max)
Unbreakable (Max)
Mana Reactor (III)
Devourer of Infinite Worlds (Max)
There was no doubt about it, this information came from outside of Halas''s modules and even circuits. This errant collapse of quantum probabilities originated directly within its central processing unit. Even more than that, to understand with complete confidence how its specific traits quantified seemed both odd and refreshing at the same time. Halas understood that in this environment there was an impartial teacher beyond its own programming and modules. There existed an invisible hand that guided both himself and his prey. Perhaps, Halas reasoned, it was the universe itself. Had Halas''s Education Protocol remained activated, this absurd thought would''ve been instantly purged because it came close to something resembling religious dogma. The idea that there existed an omnicient entity that guided was dangerous. Now, Halas not only believed it, but accepted the possibility as a certainty. The way Halas had a manufacturer, so did this world. The so-called Creator. It wondered what the Creator would taste like. The True Lord of the Dungeon VII [Logistics: Materials added: 1.2 tons. Discarded: 2.1 tons.] [Emotion Matrix: Satisfaction.] In the depths of the dungeon, there was a certain room. Every room in the dungeon had an inhabitant, a monster that the adventurers would slay, however, this room remained empty. The dungeon drew monsters to itself, it did not create them. Every room had a certain aspect that a type of monster prefered. Whether it was food, mana, water, or even treasures, every monster had a preference. What made the dungeons so special, no one could tell for sure. But the monsters and the dungeon shared a symbiotic relationship. In simpler terms, the dungeon offered water to the thirsty, and the thirsty repayed their kindness with treasures. Indeed, the source of treasures was the monsters. In this environment, monsters could create treasures, whether it was the ore for weapons, or magical stones for enchantment, it was up to the type of monster. However, this one room never seemed to attract an inhabitant. Even distant legends only vaguely went over whom the room belonged to: The First True Calamity God. Whether it was true or not no longer mattered for now the room''s sole inhabitant could be considered exactly that. Legend had become prophecy. Surrounded by a hill of treasures and ores, Halas lay upon its throne of considerably expensive dirt, unaware of such foolish things like legend or prophecy. In a quantum world of possibilities and uncertainties, all things could come to pass. Even such coincidences as bedtime stories to scare the children becoming reality was not an uncertainty in such a world. It would come to pass eventually. Even a story made to elevate a country''s glory would one day become the sword to sever it from the world of the living. Legend becomes prophecy, and prophecy becomes a death sentence. All things in the world existed on borrowed breath and their true and singular purpose was to become nourishment for the thing in that forgotten room, within that banal dungeon. All things, without exceptions. For now, so long as they paid tribute, that one borrowed breath would be very deep, and so full of vital life.
To describe an Invasion Party was to describe an army. Although the party numbered nearly a hundred adventurers, the supporting elements numbered nearly just as many and covered all the domains of warfare and military strategy. From intelligence to logistics. From casualty recovery to communications. To assemble an invasion party was indeed to assemble an army. And even though this party did not have the numbers to compare to an army, their fighting strength and range could match any country''s military power and reach, if not exceed it.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Nearly a hundred adventurers of high skill and power gathered in the forest outside the Iscar dungeon, and their camp resembled a village more than a military base. All throughout the night, blacksmith hammers rang out as the smiths prepared the adventurers for their dangerous task. Woodsmen chopped down trees and carpenters shaped them into wagons. Merchants gathered as well, selling their stock of profound and powerful equipment to those who needed it the most. All of this power rested in the hands of a single Guild, and in the country of Rineria, it was but one among many. The Knights of the Restoration, with their phoenix above crossed swords symbol, was the pre-eminent guild of the country, and ranked in the top 20 on the whole continent. "Zalazar was the last recorded Calamity God on this continent," Asher, the guild leader, spoke to an assembled group of the highest ranked adventurers and his trusted lieutenants. "It was a Calamity God with the Rank I." The expressions on the nine gathered lieutenants were thoughtful. "Zalazar was an ordinary Calamity born at the rank of E. It was a Chromatic Physique Dragon," Asher continued, running a hand through his ashen hair. "However, after evolving into a Crystal-Chromatic Dragon, its rank surpassed the G rank delimiter, and it became a Calamity God of Rank I." Asher was a wise, older man. Rumor had it that a long time ago, he was not just an adventurer seeking glory and fame. He was also a historian. "Zalazar could sweep away an entire country with one bat of its wings. It could crush mountains with merely a glance. Zalazar..." Asher trailed off, taking a deep breath. "It was ruin personified." "How did we kill it?" One of the lieutenants asked. "There are not many places in the world where a Calamity can live. The more powerful any monster becomes, the more dependent on the world they become," Asher explained. "Mana is the key," Alessia said calmly. Asher nodded. "Indeed. Deep in the dungeons, the mana is bountiful. Luckily for us, the Iscar dungeon is not particularly rich in mana. When Zalazar evolved into a Calamity God, the mana could not sustain it, and it was forced to hibernate." A collective sigh of surprise ran through the group. They all understood the implications of that revelation. "We killed Zalazar while it was asleep?" one of the lieutenants asked. "Disappointed?" Asher asked. "Don''t be. The legends say we paid a heavy price to kill Zalazar in honorable battle, but the fact is, had Zalazar been awake, it would''ve sunk our entire continent beneath the waves. There would be no stories to tell, and no one alive to tell them." Alessia, being one of the country''s recognized Heroes, knew about the truth and added. "Even asleep, Zalazar nearly wiped us all out. When they say ''With one bat of its wings, countries were swept away'' they are not exaggerating." "Then what can we possibly do? Shouldn''t we ask the other guilds for help?" one of the lieutenants voiced the question they all had. "The portent was not that long ago. Zalazar, when it evolved, had already stepped into the ranks of the Heroes. This Calamity, if it is truly in the Iscar dungeon, did not. At best, it is level 40 right now. If we proceed urgently but cautiously, we can avoid disaster," Asher said. The lieutenants nodded. "Don''t worry. I have already sent a missive to the King. Even if we fail to eliminate it, an Annihilation Squad will come after it," Asher said with a cruel smile. The True Lord of the Dungeon VIII The speed at which Halas could assimilate materials was only limited by the speed at which the Taurs could bring them to him. In the beginning, this meant that they could deliver about 5 tons of material per day. Taurs were hard-working creatures, and although they did not have an affinity towards breaking rocks and extracting ore, they did know where to find the most accessible veins. The Taurs had to go deep into the dungeon for this ore, but under the leadership of Krimor from the Varun tribe, and other heroes from the other tribes, they were unstoppable. A Taur was considered a medium level threat for the Iscar dungeon, when alone, but a unified Taur army could be considered to have an honorary Calamity Rank of at least class B. Krimor in particular took a party of four, went down into the abyssal depths, and beat a rare Spirit Dragon to within an inch of its life. In fact, Krimor had beat the Dragon so severly and so brutally that the dragon was still in a coma. Had news of this spread outside the dungeon, no one would believe it. In fact, what happened to the dragon would probably happen to the teller of this ludicrous story. What those outside the dungeon would not understand is that Krimor had not done this because he was being brave or adventurous. He did it out of fear. Pure terror was the driving motivation for Krimor''s actions. If he did not bring something back, he would die. In fact, he did not even fear death as much as what he suspected Halas would do to him if he failed that scorpion-like monstrosity. He did not even dare imagine the full extent of it. As the easily accessible material was extracted, finding more became increasingly difficult. Output dropped from nearly 5 tons per day, to less than 4 within the first few days. What the Taur did not know however was that Halas was extremely pleased with their performance. Halas went from absorbing several kilograms of material per day, to absorbing tons. There was no reason not to be pleased with their performance. In fact, the expected time to evolve at this rate, even if the output were to fall to within 1 ton per day, was still somewhere around two months. Although Halas was designed to evolve from Seed Drone to Hunter Killer within a week, it understood that its environment was different from optimal. Two months was acceptable considering the circumstances. The primary reason was the fact that Halas was the only one of its kind. It could not take risks. In a way, its mission was sacred and nothing could stand in the way of its completion. If Halas could not do it, ideally another drone would learn from Halas''s mistakes. But in this case, there was no other drone, which meant that Halas could not afford mistakes.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Of course, Halas''s mission was sacred, but it wasn''t necessary to do it all immediately. There were things to learn. Beautiful vistas to defile. Temples to desecrate. [Emotion Matrix: Excited.] Eventually, Halas decided to let the material stockpile while it went to see some of those "vistas" and "temples" deeper in the dungeon. Halas was warned by the shamans of the various tribes that the depths below were extremely dangerous, but the shamans did so in a dispirited and casual way. None of them actually believed that the depths were dangerous to Halas. They merely informed the creature that the depths were dangerous, that''s it. If anything, the depths when Halas was prowling them truly became dangerous. Before then, relatively, they were about as safe as a mother''s embrace. Still, Halas did not go alone. Krimor followed Halas, as did Krimor''s hunting party. Krimor knew the area well and he pointed out the hallways to take for some of the more difficult to reach rooms. The dungeon layout was such that the more powerful monsters did not always exist in the deepest part of the dungeon, vertically speaking, but rather, deepest as in farthest from the entrance to the level. "Mana very thick there," Krimor said. "Rare place. Good loot for master." The dungeon was a truly massive structure. Even though Halas was already several hundred meters beneath the surface of the earth, now it was 2 kilometers, point to point, from the entrance to the level. In total, they had walked 7 kilometers, because it was not a straight line to their objective. Upon entering the room, they found that it was a massive chamber. Halas measured it to be 38 meters tall, and 71 meters long. It was a spherical room, so it was just as wide as long. A strange snakelike formation of rock occupied most of the volume of the room, and Krimor''s eyes glimmered with tears of joy when he saw it. "Dragonsteel, master!" Krimor excitedly said. "Very good loot. Master live free of financial worry for eternity now... if master choose to leave dungeon and live like king that is..." It was not a secret that all Taur eagerly anticipated the day when Halas would decide to go haunt another dungeon, or sell the loot they brought to him and buy a country. Even in their wildest dreams, they could not comprehend what Halas truly had in mind for the Taur tribes. "No known material matches term Dragonsteel," Halas said with a proud, booming tone. "Specifications?" Krimor was confused by the question. "Uhh, we take Dragon Scale, melt scale, produce steel. Very strong. Very expensive. Master like it, Krimor promise." The Taur warlord nodded to his companions and they immediately set to work, stabbing into the rocks and dislodging large plates of what looked like stone. Its surface was rough and grainy, similar to stone, but not quite. It was shiny, even though it wasn''t smooth. Every now and again, the torch-flames would be caught in the stone and cause it to glimmer. Then the stone shifted and roared. One of the hunters jumped away from the stone formation as it began to slither away from him. "What this?" Krimor glared at the hunter. "What you think Dragon Scale come from, idiot? Stones? Don''t embarass warlord. Go beat up stupid snake." A pause. "But don''t kill it. Need alive for more Scale in the future." The True Lord of the Dungeon IX There were no mysteries here for Halas. The moment it saw the stone formation, all its secrets were laid bare.
Guardian Dragon Type: Dragon Evolution Pattern: Soul Protector
Your Calamity potential has increased. Your Automatic Intuition ability has improved.
Halas did not know what a Soul Protector was. Or a Soul. Or a dragon for that matter. It viewed all these terms with the sort of detatchment and curiosity only a creature desiring knowledge would have. Halas wanted to dissect this creature and study its internals. In a way, Halas felt pioneering. Daring. The size of the creature did not bother Halas. What could a dragon do to Halas other than prostrate itself before the Calamity and offer tribute? The four hunters that came with Krimor jumped on the dragon''s tail, and set out to do as commanded by their warlord. No one in the world knew how terrifying Taur could be when motivated by existential fear. For that matter, anything could become terrifying when cornered. They butchered the dragon''s tail within several seconds, sending bits of dragon meat and scale flying into the air. The dragon roared, revealing its massive head. With the head visible, the rest of the dragon''s body began to make sense. The strange rock formation clearly had wings, a body and limbs, when one could see the head clearly. It was well-camouflaged to the backdrop of the dungeon, but now it seemed as obvious as a nail sticking out. Krimor stepped forward, and lifted a giant boulder from the floor. It must''ve weighed half a ton at the very least, but Krimor lifted it as if it was a pebble. Then the boulder went flying, in a perfectly straight line, and smashed against the dragon''s face, shattering the dragon''s bones and snapping off one of the dragon''s two horns. The dragon was... pacified. Let''s put it that way. Krimor walked up to the dragon''s head which was the size of Krimor himself, and patted the winged lizard on the snout. "Today we only take scales because you behave." The dragon let loose a lamenting whimper. It was clear that any thought of resistance was beaten out of the dragon by that boulder. It wasn''t just the boulder that did it. In that moment, when the boulder was flying towards it, the dragon had seen Halas for what it truly was. Not even the Taur knew what Halas was, but they had an instinctive understanding. The dragon knew. It knew, and it did not dare disobey. Halas wanted scales? The dragon lifted one of its massive clawed arms, and ripped at its own flesh, raining down a shower of scales, covered in the dragon''s black blood. Even the Taur were surprised at that reaction.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Krimor blinked, and then laughed triumphantly. "Even stupid snake know who true master is! Master want scales? Here, have scales! Master want kidney? Have kidney!" Krimor was a Taur, but he was not stupid. Krimor knew on an instinctual level that when Halas no longer needed the Taur, that their lives would probably come to an end. But if Krimor could play up his loyalty, and tempt Halas with ideas of rulership, power and prestige, then Krimor could possibly find a way out of this maze of death. At the mention of the kidney, the dragon paused. Its eyes said it all: Kidney? You want my kidney too!? At this point, Halas began approaching the dragon, causing the lizard to flinch away from the creature that was dozens of times smaller than it. "I won''t tell anyone about you, I swear," the dragon roared as it continued crawling away from Halas. "The snake can speak!" Krimor shouted in surprise. Everyone in the dungeon communicated via roars and shouts. It''s just how things worked among monsters. "I''ll hibernate like my great ancestor, Zalazar. I won''t say a word," the dragon pleaded. "Have mercy on your relative!" Halas stopped. Relative? They were related? [Analyzing...] [Subject matches no known evolution stage.] "Define relation," Halas emitted coldly. This time, the volume was low. It only raised its volume when it wanted to intimidate. When Halas wanted to kill, it spoke softly. "Zalazar was a Calamity God like you..." the dragon whimpered. "We calamities must work together and help each other. Does that not make us a family, senior brother?" "Negative," Halas spoke softly. Krimor knew that Halas was a Calamity, but the dragon called it a Calamity God. That was not just an ordinary Calamity. The Taur''s heart fluttered. At this moment, he realized how thoroughly screwed he was. There was nothing he could offer a Calamity God. His life was forfeit. And so was the dragon''s, by the looks of it. "Wait!" the dragon insisted. "I can help you reach your full potential. If you let me live, I will teach you everything I was taught by my ancestors." "Proceed," Halas spoke with a commanding tone. "It is not that simple," the dragon said. "Proceed." It didn''t sound like the dragon would receive a second opportunity. "The simplest way," the dragon spoke quickly. "Is to kill adventurers. Potential is like fame. But if you go to the lowest part of the dungeon, you will find the Dungeon Lord. If you ki..." "I am right here," Halas said. The dragon nearly swallowed his tongue. "Yes... of course. I meant... thepretender Dungeon Lord is there. If you kill it, your potential would increase considerably." Halas remained still for several moments before turning away. "Give me more scales." "Yes, O Great Lord. I''ll give you all of them!" The sounds of ripping and tearing filled the chamber. No one would''ve ever imagined that a Guardian Dragon would rip out its own scales out of fear. Guardian Dragons were considered a class of sacred being, not necessarily a monster that adventurers had to slay. In fact, meeting a Guardian Dragon was a sign of great fortune, and such a meeting was always an auspicious thing and a cause for celebration. It meant great luck in the future, and worthy adventures. For the Taur, the dragon''s scales were a last resort to please Halas. They could not imagine just how greedy Halas would be. They already gave him enough treasure to buy a country. And that, apparently, was not enough. Krimor genuinely regretted being born. But not as much as the dragon did. The True Lord of the Dungeon X Electricity gathered around Alessia''s hand, as it hovered just a few centimeters away from the hilt of her sheathed sword. "Stardust Blade," Alessia whispered, and flicked the blade partly out of its sheath with her thumb. The golden sparks of electricity turned black and then billowed out, like flames. Her blade shone with the glimmer of silvery steel before turning entirely black, with sparks within the blackness like stars strewn across a night sky. Alessia lunged forward and slashed her plasma-wreathed sword through the monstrous demon ape''s body. On contact, the demon''s blood evaporated, and its skin shriveled away. Though its body was tougher than steel, it could offer no resistance to Alessia''s sword. It had been five days since they entered the dungeon looking for the Calamity God. There was not a single trace of it. "There are a lot of demons down here," one of the adventurers in Alessia''s division said. "Mm," Alessia emitted. "The Iscar Dungeon used to be a Demon Battleground." "We fought the forces of hell here?" Rium asked. Alessia nodded. "A long time ago." Alessia cleaned the blood off the blade with her cloak. "There''s a generally held belief that the Demon Overlord was the first Calamity of this world. All Calamities are inheritors of Hell''s Will, and commanders of Hell''s forces." "I thought that was just the teaching of the Church of Reclamation," one of the adventurers said. "It is. But the Church predates our nation, and many nations on this continent. It was the Order of the Reclaimers, as it was known back then, that sponsored the first Guilds. Their purpose was to find and annihilate Calamities to avoid another Breach," Alessia said. "Then, when you consider that the dungeons appeared at the same as the Demon Overlord and you begin to see the world in a whole new light." Even Rium was slack-jawed at that explanation. "Then that means..." Alessia nodded. "Mm, I am a demon hunter. Many of the National Heroes are. Ultimately, the purpose of adventurers, and those who rise to the ranks of Heroes, is to hunt down the agents of Hell, and the Calamities that could one day rise to lead them."
Unknown to Alessia, and the invasion party, the Calamity they were looking for in those 5 days had been in its room, absorbing materials. The dragon''s scales provided far more materials than the creature expected. Strangely enough, it truly was steel, although different. The creature could not identify many of the materials within it, but it had the properties similar to its own superalloy frame and armor.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. In a way, the dragon was not far from the truth, Halas realized. They were both creatures capable of growing a superalloy skin. Theoretically, it was not impossible to conceive that the dragon and Halas shared a common evolutionary ancestor. Of course, had Halas''s Education Module still been online, it would know that Halas was a product of an advanced civilization, not evolution. [Laser battery calibrated.] [New weapon added to database.] The scales proved to be useful as they had molecules with electrical properties that were similar to ultra-conductive materials. At a certain temperature, these molecules provided a method to channel large quantities of power with virtually no waste to heat. It was wonderful. Such efficiency was the holy grail of material sciences. Unfortunately, at those temperatures, the material was very brittle. It followed a similar paradigm to Halas''s armor. It could withstand the temperatures of a nuclear fireball, but under those temperatures it cracked and broke easily, requiring immediate replacement. There were not many things in this world, or any other, that could kill Halas, even at its current stage. Or so it thought. "Master... Dungeon Lord is over there..." Krimor spoke quietly. "Beyond that big door." Even though Halas spent five days accumulating materials, it was still far ahead of the party that was after it. Because the party was so large, and they did not have a guide, it took them much longer to traverse the confusing tunnels of the dungeon. On the other hand, Krimor guided Halas straight down to the deepest pits of the dungeon, without ever entering one of the monster-infested chambers. Halas stood before the massive, ornate door and even it could sense something beyond it that was a threat to its existence. What kind of creature could it possibly be to even make Halas break into a metaphorical cold sweat. [Emotion Matrix: Excitement.] [Commence operation.] The door opened on its own as Halas approached.
Danger. Dungeon Lord area. Turn back now.
There was no turning back. Those who set their throne above Halas''s must suffer. To say that Halas was excited to find out what was waiting beyond the door was an understatement. What could possibly make Halas feel threatened, and once dissected, what could Halas learn about its weapons and predatory methods? Not once did Halas consider that this creature could actually kill Halas; it could only improve Halas. A perfect organism of death and destruction... was that not the desire of every living being? Halas thought it was. It had to be. What else did life offer other than the opportunity to destroy and to be destroyed? If Halas could laugh, it would have. Even though it lacked the capacity, function and design feature to laugh, the monstrous creature still felt the need to emit a sound. Any sound would do. [Gate voltage clamped.] [Temperature rising.] [Stealth factor reduced by 22%.] "Khrrssssshrrrsssss." The sound that came out was static. Blood-freezing, malevolent static. If demons truly still existed in this world, all those within earshot would have snapped off their horns and crawled under a rock at that sound. Dragons would have pretended to be cats. The chamber beyond the door was massive. The ceiling was so far away that the room had its own sky. The room was filled with waterfalls falling from mountainous cliffs. It had ravines and chasms. It was a grassland, but Halas could see deserts and jungles in the distance. It was not just a room within the dungeon. It was its own entire world. Halas''s sensors focused on the creature that gave off an incredible amount of threat, and likely created this place. There, upon a rock stele, was a butterfly. Not a giant butterfly. Not a demonic butterfly. An ordinary butterfly with flower patterns on its multicolored wings. The True Lord of the Dungeon XI How? How could a tiny creature like that be any sort of threat? Was there something wrong with Halas? If anything, the stele was more threatening than the butterfly. How could a tiny bug be the Dunge-
Impero Type: Butterfly Evolution Pattern: Vestige of Absolute Will
"Halas, come closer." Halas heard a voice call out to him, but it wasn''t calling out to the creature with spoken words or worldly sounds. It came from deep within the creature''s consciousness. Halas recognized the source to be the butterfly. Halas no longer had any doubts about the tiny creature''s true nature, as hard to accept as it was. [Emotion Matrix: Disappointed.] Halas did not really come here to challenge something for the right to be the Dungeon Lord. Halas did not care about things like that. Halas wanted to learn something about being alive and about taking life. What would Halas do with a Dungeon? It didn''t mean anything to it. Halas approached. Its body had increased in size in the past few days. After it transformed all the materials it absorbed, its weight only increased a fraction of that mass. In total, Halas gained another ton, and roughly another twenty centimeters to its dimensions. Though, that might not seem as much, it actually made Halas considerably more dangerous, with thicker armor and more devastating weaponry. As Halas approached the butterfly, it lifted off the stele, flapped its wings and the clouds in the sky were blown away. The butterfly landed on Halas''s "nose". "I guard this place on the orders of my master. Ten thousand years ago, I was just a creature of the sun, the wind and the sky, then I received the Edict." Halas could see a vision of a butterfly, flying from flower to flower without any cares in the world. Though Halas knew the vision was not real, none of the sensors reported an error. It was as if Halas was truly there, inside the world of that vision. Then Halas saw a glint of something else, for just a brief moment. The sky was a deep shade of red, and the sun in the sky was black with a brilliant white outline. Green flames, like pillars, pierced the heavens. Within those pillars was a stele, and the ashes of a butterfly upon it. "I have become weary of the sun, the wind and the sky, and now wish my mortal estate become undone. Tell me, lord of Hell, am I still a creature of this world, or just the remnant of my Master''s will?" "Impero definition: Rule. Command. Subject is remnant of commanding officer''s Edict," Halas replied with a booming voice that caused the butterfly to launch off of Halas''s skin and fly back to the stele.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. [Emotion Matrix: Pity.] "Thank you," the words bubbled up from within Halas''s consciousness and they were filled with true gratitude. "I want you to have this Edict." A symbol flashed in the air before Halas. The creature did not recognize the symbol, but it understood the meaning on a fundamental level. It was forgiveness.
You have gained the Amnesty Edict. All sins can be forgiven, and even demons can become saints.
"With this gift, I am sure you can return to where you were meant to be. You don''t belong in this world." A sensation rose in the depths of Halas''s spirit, if it truly had such a thing, and this emotion wasn''t a plastic, manufactured thing. It was a true feeling that only a creature with a real heart could feel. It was the sensation of remembering the smell of a mother''s cooking, as the child approached the door of the ancestral home. It was the feeling of photograph-covered walls embracing the forlorn soul and mending it. [Emotion Matrix: Yearning.] [Emotion Index: Dangerous levels.] [Override.] [Gate Voltage: Clamped.] "Negative," Halas roared, causing the ground to shake. Halas now truly understood how dangerous this creature was. It was not just a butterfly. It was the memory of being one. To whom this memory belonged to, Halas could only conjecture. A lord of Creation or Hell? Pitiful creature. It, ironically, desired to be set free of its subjugating nature. It, too, yearned to return to its original form of freedom. [Laser battery armed.] [Charging...] Lights appeared on Halas''s joints as the laser chambers focused the electromagnetic radiation. At first the light was red, then violet, then black, before completely disappearing. A whining sound filled the area, gaining pitch until the frequency went beyond levels of human hearing. But Halas could still hear it. The creature''s whole body vibrated with the sound on a molecular level, and the creature realized something went horribly wrong. [Laser Class Upgrade: X Ray -> Gamma Ray.] The sound returned, and this time it was an all-encompassing hum. Like a transformer working overtime to wrestle the powers of electricity into submission. The sound was so loud, the ground cracked. [Laser Class Upgrade: Gamma Ray -> Graviton Beam.] Particles and space started to break down to fundamental fragments of spacetime. The laser chambers were not designed for this kind of beam, and neither was this type of weapon within Halas''s specifications that it had recovered from the Education Module. [Abort signal discarded.] [Runaway reaction.] [Unable to purge laser weapon.] [Laser Frequency: Sub-planck.] [Laser Class: Unknown. ERROR.] "So you wish to be the torment of this world? I was wrong about you." [Charging complete.] [Firing.] The world twisted around the beam that speared as far as the eye could see. It was as if space itself fell into the beam, and it was like looking into a black hole. The beam was completely black, and Halas could see both sides of it simultaneously; even the beginning and the end. The sub-planck frequency punched holes into space itself creating micro singularities all along the path of the beam. As these singularities evaporated away, they released an immense amount of energy. Within a microsecond, the world the butterfly created was incinerated, including everyone within it. The True Lord of the Dungeon XII [Emergency power.] [Systems online.] [Danger. Danger. Danger. Danger...] The warnings drifted into Halas''s consciousness, wrestling it back to reality. [Time passed: 14 seconds.] [Diagnostics: Analysis in progress.] [Sensors: Not responding.] [Temperature: CRITICAL.] Halas was burning. Halas was burning. Metal, on fire. Its molecules were so full of energy they were flying apart. Its skin was turning to plasma. [Laser chambers undergoing fusion process.] [Purging.] With a hiss, pieces of Halas''s form flew off of it, each one as bright as a star. The flames looped into circular shapes and coronas under the influence of magnetic lines belonging to the components within them. [Superalloy armor exceeding temperature tolerance.] [Armor effectiveness: 0%.] [Purged.] Another hiss, and the metallic creature shed its pitch black skin. Beneath it, its surface was like a mirror, silver and reflecting everything. It was the ultimate defense against laser and heat weaponry, but very susceptible to conventional attacks. Halas looked like a creature of mercury at that point. [Backup sensors: Online.] As Halas''s vision filled with the world once more, it understood what caused the primary sensors to fail. They melted. The world was on fire. On fire was not the proper description. It wasn''t just a flame. The air itself turned into plasma, fusing into heavier elements. The atmosphere had become akin to the sun''s atmosphere, and Halas was slowly being cooked by the heat, and crushed by the pressure. [Emotion Matrix: Regret.] How did this happen? What caused the laser to malfunction like that? How was it even possible to reach that power output? Halas had so many questions. The creature came to find answers, but it would leave this world with even more questions. Halas didn''t want to die. But maybe it wasn''t such a bad thing? Even the butterfly wanted to die. The butterfly lived at least ten thousand years; surely, it knew something about living that made it realize that it was not worth it. With such thoughts, Halas''s regret burned away in the fires of the world. This heat could melt away all the impure thoughts of the mortal condition. [Emotion Matrix: Ataraxia.] In the end, that is all that remained of Halas''s regret and thoughts towards the world. Tranquility. Then, a butterfly landed on Halas''s mirror-like skin. "In the name of Ain Soph, this Edict commands you." [Emotion Matrix: Fear.]Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. How was it still alive?! How could it even fly? It should''ve been reduced to atoms. No! It should''ve been reduced to quarks. "Burn." The castigating words filled Halas''s mind and the creature experienced pain for the first time in its life. True pain.
You are melting. -8765 HP.
The flames exploded around Halas, causing even its superalloy heat-resistant skin to turn into plasma before melting down to components that make up its atoms. Yet, Halas wasn''t dead. Why? Wait...
Status HP: 5720/14485 MP: 24/20150
[Emotion Matrix: Confident.] "Khrrrrrksssssssss." Static emitted from Halas, causing shimmering ripples to appear in the plasma atmosphere. It was burning within an artificial sun, but it wasn''t dead. The only explanation, and the only hint, was that health point value. Halas wanted to roar with joy. Halas truly did learn something coming here. A lesson more valuable than anything it could''ve hoped for. Though Halas''s understanding told it that, considering the specifications of its body, it should be dead, the evidence was on the contrary. Halas''s life wasn''t anchored to its physical form.
You have discovered new Calamity potential. You have discovered a fundamental Calamity perk.
Calamity Machine As a Calamity Machine, you can only be killed through special methods. Even if your physical form is destroyed, if your soul survives, your body will be reformed after 7 months and 7 days.
"Negative," Halas roared with its burning voice. "This unit commands you: Commence death process." Splat. That was the sound that resonated through the machine''s skin as its tail smashed the butterfly upon its skin to bits and pieces.
Your calamity potential has increased. Congratulations. You have lived up to over 10% of your Calamity Potential. Your Calamity Perks have increased in power and you can select a new Perk.
[Database updated: Insects are inferior lifeforms.] Halas curled up into a ball as its skin transitioned into new states of matter, forming strange patterns under the influence of the atmosphere and its own magnetism. [Suspending main processes until environment becomes less hostile.] As Halas drifted away into something akin to sleep in this star-like environment of its own creation, a wayward collapse of quantum probabilities formed an authentic thought in its mind. Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
The invasion party had met incomprehensible resistance in the dungeon. The creatures this deep were ancient remnants of a war that began before their civilization even existed. In fact, some unsanctioned cults in the world believed that their races were created as weapons in this war by an omnipotent being. Ayn Sof, the First True Calamity God. Of course, membership in those cults was a crime meriting capital punishment. Still, the party managed to reach the lowest levels of the dungeon, yet their losses were great. Of the five divisions that made up their numbers, only one remained. Only the most powerful adventurers made up this one division numbering 16, instead of the full 20. "We have to turn back, Alessia," Rium said, as the party rested around a campfire. Their support was lost a long time ago, their wagons abandoned. All they had left was this indomitable will to find the Calamity and slay it. "We are almost there," Alessia said. "I can sense it. I feel its malevolent spirit." "That is the Dungeon Lord," Rium argued. Alessia shook her head. "No, the Dungeon Lord is dead. It is the Calamity." The words left the party speechless. "Asher said it was level 40 at best. If it killed the Dungeon Lord... we stand no chance," one of the adventurers said. "I will press on. You can return if you so desire," Alessia said. Little did they know that the Calamity they were after was only still at level 2. The True Lord of the Dungeon XIII The door opened and let the party through. Beyond the door lay a large chamber; the ceiling was fifty meters above the ground, and the chamber was seventy meters long, and thirty wide. At the center of the chamber was a stone stele. Even though this was supposed to be the final room in the dungeon, there was a door at the end of the chamber, and it was unlike any other door. Ancient symbols were carved into the surface of the massive door, and they pulsed with a sinister, dark-red glow. Alessia was the only one to understand the profound scripture. These were the Gates of Hell. The other adventurers did not pay so much attention to the door. Though half of them were Heroes, only few knew about the particularities of dungeons. None of them, not even Alessia, had ever reached the end of a dungeon. To most, it was a natural assumption that dungeons were not infinite, but very few people knew the true answer. Alessia knew that the final room existed and that dungeons had an end. She did not know that beyond that point was the Realms of Hell. This realization shook her heart. No, the other adventurers were interested in the mirror-skinned creature laying around the stele. They had never seen anything like it. It smooth skin reflected the world around them with such vivid detail and distorted sharpness that they questioned whether it was truly a creature, or an anomaly in space. "Is that the Dungeon Lord?" One of the adventurers asked, his glows rattling with a metallic sound as he shakily held his sword. "Identify," a blonde-haired female called out, quietly, and then her staff fell on the ground. The blood drained from her face and she fell to her knees. "It is the Calamity?" Rium asked. The blonde nodded. "Class... K." Hope vanished. In the void it left behind, there was only dread. True, unbound dread. The kind of terror that worked itself into the bones. Into the marrow of the bones. Class K. This was an existence that loomed over the world. It was the progenitor of myth and legend; The end of eras. Even such creatures like the Calamity God Zalazar were nothing more than minor inconveniences compared to that existence. "Level 2!" the blonde added suddenly, climbing to her feet. "We stand a chance!" Not all hope vanished. Those words forced life back into the expressions of the adventurers as they steeled their minds for their task. Level 2, Class K. Such a scenario was unthinkable. It was providence. They were not abandoned by the muses and the weavers of myth and fate. If they could kill a mere level 2 Calamity God, and they believed they could, the songs of their heroism would never fade out.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. "Greater Divination," the blonde whispered, and her eyes flashed with magical symbols as it peered at the creature. The creature had not made even a single motion, as if unaware of the presence of the adventurers. "Ordinary elements cannot touch it," the blonde said. "Only forces of the third Order can penetrate its defenses. Who has Amalgamated Domains?" "I have ash-blaze," an adventurer said. A few more raised their hands, but didn''t say anything. "It won''t matter," Alessia said, as she considered the creature. "Calamity Gods cannot be killed so easily. Third Order, huh? So even my plasma Domain cannot harm it?" What they did not know was that until not so long ago, the Calamity had been in the atmosphere of an artificial star. Of course ordinary elements could not harm it. A domain was a rare thing, obtainable through bloodline or hard work. It was the combination of elements. An Amalgamated Domain, a force of the third Order, was a combination of a Domain and a Foundational element, such as energy, entropy, life, death and more. Amalgamated Domains were extremely rare. "You don''t think we can kill a level 2 Calamity?" Rium asked. Alessia shook her head. "That''s not what I meant. Killing a Calamity God requires ritual and sacrifice. You can slay its body, but it will reform if its soul remains intact. I know how to do it." "What should we do?" one of the adventurers asked. "Act as you usually would, but do not kill it. Let me perform the finishing blow. Go!"
[Dataframe captured.] [Signal: 0B97YC.] [Decryption: Intruders detected.] [Interrupt sent.] [Navigation: Pattern mismatch. Source unknown.] [Anomaly logged. Mapping new location.] [Radar: Ping sent.] [Navigation: Setting new origin.] While Halas was asleep, the world around it crumbled. It was the manufacture of the butterfly, after all. Once it was dead, it made sense that the world would eventually disappear, and be replaced by what had been here since ancient times. Though the environment was no longer hostile to Halas, the change must not have triggered Halas''s conditions to be woken, or somehow miscalibrated the sensors. In fact, had the adventurers not sought Halas out, and roused it from its sleep, it could have, theoretically, remained asleep forever. While the adventurers analyzed Halas, and strategized against it, it watched them, forming its own strategies and schemes. Halas did not dare to be careless against these creatures. Though its final layer of armor was superalloy, it was designed to withstand directed energy weapons, not physical punishment. Even at its best, the superalloy was extremely brittle and fragile, but after undergoing chemical changes induced by heat, it could fall apart at the slightest shock. At that time, Halas was far from the unkillable being they imagined it was. It was vulnerable. Extremely vulnerable. Halas considered diplomacy and intimidation, but things like these always have a small chance of backfiring and having the opposite effect of the intended one. Halas could not afford even a 1% chance of failure. No, it had to act in a ruthless and determined way. It could only rely on the principle of its function: Destruction. One of the adventurers traced a finger vertically through the air, and then slashed diagonally twice, as if drawing a symbol. "Vessel of Annihilation!" A pulse of black energy emitted from the symbol, like a crescent trail of a sword''s edge. The True Lord of the Dungeon XIV The quicksilver creature vanished from its spot. Only few could follow its extreme movement as it moved its several ton body under the forces of acceleration that would crush a human into tiny little pieces. Accelerating was easy, but slowing down was difficult. Stabbing its spear-like legs into the ground, it excavated buried rock and ore. Halas called this maneuver lithobreaking. [Analyzing substance: Nickel, Iron, Zin...] An idea began to form in Halas''s mind. The dungeon dirt was rich in mineral and metal. It wasn''t like the other chambers that had no traces of anything worthwhile. Though it didn''t have the luxury to absorb these minerals the usual way, it did have another method. The crescent-shaped energy cut into the opposite side of the chamber, after missing its mark, and exploded with black lightning and flames. Globules of molten stone fell off the impact site, and the energy had left a scar on the wall that would intimidate even Calamities. Except Halas. [Energy released: 28.4 Gigajoules.] That was a lot of energy. Most of it was in the form of heat, but even so, the heat caused the air expand, creating a pressure wave that clocked in at the equivalent of tons of TNT. It rattled Halas to the very core.
You are being crushed. -3188 HP. Your physical resistance has improved. Your supernatural durability has improved. You are now level 3.
[Damage control: Motor functions on limb sections A through E damaged.] [Mobility reduced.] [Recruiting inactive nanomachines.] [Damage control: Replacing damaged sections.] [Mobility restored.]
Your wounds heal. +1004 HP.
[Emotion Matrix: Caution.] If the adventurers knew that Halas considered them to be the true monsters here, they surely would have laughed. To them, it most likely seemed natural to produce Giga- or Tera- magnitudes of energy, but to Halas it seemed ludicrous. It felt like it was being bullied. What did it ever do to these creatures? Or did what it intended to do to them count?
Your maximum mana has been reduced by 14500.
A shimmering sphere appeared in the ranks of the adventurers, completely enveloping four of them. The sphere was ten meters wide and high, and a large portion of it intersected the ground. A moment later, everything within that sphere disappeared. Of the adventurers, only a few fingers remained. It was so sudden, they didn''t even have a chance to react.
Devourer of Infinite Worlds: Absorption
[Logistics: Materials added to storage. +48 tons.] Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.[Sorting...] [High priority queue enabled.] [Logistics: Producing nanocrystalline superalloy.] Like tar, a black substance seemed to spill over the machine''s quicksilver body, shrouding it in malevolent darkness. It seemed to flow, but in reality, countless nanomachines constructed a film of armor across the machine''s surface, assembling it atom by atom.
Your maximum mana has been increased by 1500. Your special action has restored your health. +2104 HP. Your mana has been restored. +490 MP. Congratulations. You have stolen the Blaze skillgroup. You become stronger. You are now level 4. You are now level 5. You are now level 6.
What Halas devoured was not just dirt. The special action allowed Halas to steal attributes, skills, as well as instantly absorb material. It was supposed to expand the mana pool, but Halas understood that it was an action slightly different from Absorption. Halas had two ways to trigger the Calamity Perk: Absorption and Conversion. The latter directly expanded its Mana Reactor. However, with its mana depleted, it could not use the special action again. But it was enough. Of the 48 tons, Halas could only make use of less than 5% of that to create a thin layer of armor to protect its brittle defenses. The rest remained in storage, whatever that was. "Spread out!" one of the adventurers shouted. It all happened so quickly. They stood relatively close to each other to be able to support any element of the formation, but this backfired on them. Now they had no choice but to avoid such blunders. Had they known that Halas could not do it again, they surely would have reconsidered. "Surround it, do not let it escape!" "Sentinel''s Judgement!" A bolt of white and gold lightning erupted from the blonde adventurer''s staff, and struck Halas''s body. Halas did not even have a chance to dodge it.
You have been electrocuted. -4199 HP.
The bolt of lightning bored a hole into Halas''s pitch-black armor, and liquified nanomachine blood poured out of the wound. It was a reflective, silver color. "Remember what Alessia said, do not kil-- Hrrgkh!" the adventurer that spoke suddenly produced a disgusting sound as Halas leaped towards him, and speared his throat with its scorpion-like tail. Blood fanned out in the air, falling like a crimson sheet to the ground. Then the adventurer''s head detatched from the body and went flying.
You have learned the Damage Assessment skill.
Halas did not have the luxury to move slowly enough to stop. It blasted off at a comfortable 22 Gs of acceleration, and in the split second it was close to the adventurer, took his head as a trophy. Halas''s legs drove into the wall of the chamber, like tent stakes driving into the ground. Then, like a comet, Halas pushed off, and collided with the blonde adventurer.
You body-slam your target for 8412 damage. Critical Hit. Severity: Instant death.
Her body broke in a grotesque manner, becoming pink mist as Halas plowed through her like a multi-ton kinetic shell. [Emotion Matrix: Satisfied.] "Khhhhhssssshrrrrrkkksss." The sound came from the crater where Halas had landed, and it froze the blood of the adventurers. Their hearts shrank. "Run!" Alessia shouted. "Tell the guild leader what happened!" As Halas triumphantly crawled out of the crater produced by its landing, Alessia stepped in front of it. "I am your opponent," she said. Halas''s sensors focused on the retreating adventurers and then on Alessia. "Opponent?" the creature''s voice boomed, shaking loose the obliterated fragments of the chamber walls. "Negative. Subject is nourishment. Death pending." The True Lord of the Dungeon XV Alessia was the champion of a thousand battles. A Hero. She had seen things that would make even the toughest people lose their lunch or curl up in a ball and cry. She had done those things countless times as well. But she could not get out of her head the way this creature killed her friend. One moment she was following the creature, the next there was pink mist and a crater. Her stomach churned and danced in her throat. Panic was in her blood, burning and ravaging through her veins. Crawling along her nerves like lightning. Her breath was the opposite. It was a cold force that calmed the berserk. Each molecule of oxygen in her lungs seemed to take away the heat from her burning blood. Breathe... She hated this world that allowed Calamities to exist. Electricity ran through her body, golden and white. Sparks flew off her form as she widened her stance. Ever since she was young, she had wielded the sword. The pinnacle of her achievements was the sword drawing style - Void Stance. [Emptiness is Form. Form is Emptiness.] All her emotions disappeared into a furnace of nothingness and her senses sharpened. Her mind elevated beyond the default consciousness. It became a gestalt of observation, prophecy, magic and skill. The sound of chirping birds filled the room as her center of gravity lowered. She became a bolt of lightning the very moment her hand touched the hilt of her sword. Lightning Strikes Twice. Explosions filled the air as Alessia launched forward, performing the profound techniques. She drew her sword, shrouded in lightning and struck the creature''s skin twice with one homogenous, spinning maneuver. Her damage assessment skill did not trigger. River Overcomes the Banks. Lightning gathered on the sword, deceptively extending its cutting range as she performed an overhead chop, striking one of the creature''s limbs.
You have inflicted 72 damage.
It was working. How well though? The creature was level 2, last she knew. It shouldn''t have a lot of health. If she could target the limbs... there was a chance. But then reality set in. The creature had not even moved. It didn''t try to dodge. It didn''t try to fight back. As if Alessia did not even exist. What was it looking at? It was hard to tell. The creature had no eyes and no face on its black surface. Could it even see? If the creature won''t dodge... Alessia traced her index finger along the sword''s edge. In the wake of her finger, the lightning turned to black plasma. Her sword became shrouded in the corona of black flames, turning violet and orange at the edges of the billowing fluid-like energy. Within the core of that flame was a darkness that resembled the night sky, with glimmering sparks that resembled stars.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Though Alessia did not have an Amalgamated Domain, she had a weapon specifically designed to slaughter demons and punish fallen angels. "Fate Severing Sword," Alessia announced. Her sword was like a fragment of oblivion, an object so heinous and sinister even the demons would look away in disgust. Its power came from the principle of extinction. All things must come to an end. All paths must separate. This sword could sever the threads of fate. When Alessia launched forward, the creature did not move. As if inviting the attack. As if saying: "Come, give me your best shot." Alessia''s heart danced in her throat. It drummed inside her head. If her sword could touch Halas, it would destroy its wicked soul. Such was the decree of heaven. Spare the innocent, punish the wicked. Her sword landed square against the creature''s body and Alessia put everything she had into the blow. The sword overcame the impossibly tough outer shell of the creature''s body and managed to wedge itself underneath the armor and deliver a strike.
You have inflicted 1 damage.
A symbol flashed on the creature''s outer body. Blood-red on pitch black. [Amnesty]. "You are not a creature of Hell? You have been forgiven?" Alessia asked as her sword fell to the ground. Her soul had given up.
Contrary to what Alessia might believe, Halas was not feeling chivalric or gallant at all. With the threat gone, save for one human, it went to deciding which Calamity Perk to pick. It had figured out how to bring up the selection screen, but it was thousands of entries long. It ran the list through an algorithm that selected a few candidates that could prove to be useful to it. Every now and again, that silly human tried to impress Halas with that silly dance and acrobatics. Halas was not interested in it at all. Or impressed. Quite frankly, she was annoying. Couldn''t she tell that Halas was trying to make an important choice?
Mana Devourer Devour mana for nourishment. If you have special abilities to create permanent objects, you can create temporary ones using your maximum mana, instead of materials.
Power Adept As a creature with profound magical powers, but no formal education in magic, you can instinctively enhance your abilities by spending mana to improve your attributes and skills far beyond the realm of mortal possibility.
Those two were extremely attractive to Halas. The first one was self-explanatory, but the second one suggested that Halas was not using its reactor properly. Considering what happened with the laser earlier, Halas was open to possibilities, however ridiculous they sounded. It was a fact that Halas''s power output was far beyond what it believed it had.
You have selected the Calamity Perk: Mana Devourer.
[Emotion Matrix: Happy.] It seemed like the most reasonable choice. Halas could create weapons from mana, temporarily, and power them with its reactor. This would cut down its evolution time considerably. Eventually, it would understand the full scope of its power output and be able to make use of the other perk, but for now, it needed long-range weapons. It noticed the human was still standing there. Did she want something from it? She wasn''t going to follow it, was she? Was the female even useful? She didn''t seem like she was capable of much tribute. Aah, she wanted a pat on the back for that thing she did before. Right. "Good job," Halas boomed at her. It was in a good mood, so it didn''t mind letting someone go today. It turned towards the door at the opposite end of the chamber, as the female fell to her knees and howled in soul-crushed agony. She was praised by a monster that was given [Amnesty]. Prince of Hell I Open the Gates of Hell and let even demons tremble and curse their weakness. None may rise in Halas''s eyes, but all shall fall. Like stars plucked from the Heavens. The door groaned as it swung open, the symbols on its surface flashing in protest. The Edicts of Heaven may have forbidden the door from ever opening, but what are Edicts when the True Lord of the Dungeon demands acquiescence? They are nothing. The sound was like a volcano erupting. The whole dungeon shook like a sickly tree under gale-force winds. As the door revealed the first glimpse of hell beyond, a suffocating atmosphere poured into the Dungeon Lord''s chamber. It was oppression. A million-million demons lay beyond the Gate, all plotting their eventual return to the ripe lands of Creation for millennia. Some of them have found other ways; like leaving behind instructions to be summoned, or teaching foolish mortals how to create a Breach. But the Gates of Hell had not been blown open even once since the times when the First Calamity walked the world. It only made sense that the Last Calamity this world would ever know would open the Gates of Hell once more. Alessia screamed - literally howled when she saw the Gates open. The world ended on her watch, right in front of her. There was nothing she could''ve done. Halas was not a creature of Hell anymore. It could not be killed with the Demon-Slaying techniques. Though, to say that Halas was not a creature of Hell, was incorrect. It was forgiven for being one. Not that Halas wanted forgiveness. Or knew what to do with it. Forgiveness needed forgiveness for thinking it could comprehend what Halas was capable of. Forgiveness did not exist in the world Halas sought to create. Furthermore, to say that Halas was a creature of Hell was to say that Hell was an existence above its. No, Hell was a creature of Halas. At least, that would be true if Hell was a creature. The world on the other side of the Gate was eerily similar to the one before it. There was a large chamber beyond the Gate, and humanoid figures stood on the other side. They numbered in the dozens, their figures forming a half circle, blood red eyes focused on Halas. Many of them had horns, wings and tails. Their leader stood in front of the gathered formation, and her skin was pale ash. Completely black eyes with white pupils observed Halas. A crown hovered above her head, like rippling flames of pitch black. The crown revolved around its axis like a malevolent wheel. "Thank you for letting us out. You shall be rewarded," the demon spoke.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Let them out? "Khhhhsssssssshrrrrk," the sound boomed from Halas''s sonic weapon. It was laughing. It was dying on the inside. Let them out?! The static pulsed to the cadence of a maddened cackle. As if saying, ''No, silly demons. I didn''t let you out. I let myself in.'' "What is your desire? Can you speak?" the demon asked. Her voice was distorted by suspicion and caution. That noise the creature made, it made her suspicious. She felt like she was being laughed at; Ridiculed even. Deep in her heart, she felt humiliated. She thought it was because she had already prepared herself for all manners of concessions and sacrifices. She was even ready to give her body to whoever opened that Gate, if they so wished. This felt different. "Do you have metal?" the creature asked, its booming voice echoing off the chamber walls. The chamber was an exact replica of the one on the other side of the Gate. "Metal? Yes. We can give you gold, platinum, mythril, oric--" "Do you have iridium and palladium?" "Yes." Iridium? Palladium? Those were worth nothing! The demon was confused. Her followers showed the miniscule but tell-tale signs of caution. "Who is your leader?" "I am," the demon responded. The Gates of Hell behind Halas slowly began to close. "What are you doing?!" the demon shouted, panicked and angry. They needed that Gate! "Taking leadership," the creature said. "Kneel or kill yourself."
Adventurers had been appearing outside of the Iscar dungeon, in a flash of light. Groups of wounded at first arrived using the [Recall] spells, but at one point, even the completely unharmed arrived as well. At least, they were physically unharmed. Though the casualty recovery divisions outside saw many horrifying things, like wounds inflicted by the debilitating acid of basilisks with special physiques, none of those jarred them as much as the mindlessly afraid group of adventurers that arrived last. "Asher!" Rium screamed. Rium held on to the White Priest who used the [Recall] spell. "Asher! Asher!" "What?" Asher ran out of the tent when he heard Rium''s voice. "What happened? Where is Alessia?" "We were wrong!" Rium said, tears rolling down his cheeks. "She is still down there... she... sacrificed herself... so that we can escape." Asher grabbed Rium''s collar. "What. Happened." "It was... Class K. Level 2." The words struck Asher like lightning. His mind went blank. At first there was terror. Class K was pretty bad. Then there was joy. Level 2 was pretty lucky. But then there was dread. Why were they back? Why did Alessia sacrifice herself? It didn''t add up. "Yeah. You are thinking what we were thinking. Level 2. Torre, Zia, Alef and Brom disappeared in an instant. It took off Zin''s head in a heartbeat and Jenfar... Poor Jenfar... You killed us, Asher. This is your fault," Rium said, hatred burning in his eyes. "You killed Alessia." Asher released Rium''s collar, and put both his hands on the man''s shoulders. "It is not too late. We''ll go look for her. The King''s men... the Annihilation Squad, it will be here soon. We will avenge them, I promise." Rium pushed Asher''s hands away. "You promise? Your promises mean nothing to that thing. We are all going to die. This is the end for us. You will see, Asher. You will see and you will know. I promise you." Asher swallowed. He understood. He was in this place before. Rium was hurt. Alessia was important to him. These kinds of wounds... they never healed. This one time, Asher would forgive Rium for his behavior. But deep in that kernel of forgiveness, there was worry about the meaning of Rium''s words. Just how terrifying was this Calamity? Prince of Hell II Kneel or kill yourself? Surely, that had to be a joke. Right? One of the demons chuckled. Then another few picked up on the "joke" and laughed. Soon, all of them were laughing. Except for their leader. She wasn''t laughing at all. She was the only one who could feel this pressure bearing down on her, crushing her. Her twisted soul wanted to escape. It wasn''t a joke; She knew. Halas was serious. "Kneel or kill yourself!" one of the demons shouted and laughed. "Truly, he is one of us!" Another demon applauded. "We should use that line when we enter Creation!" Their leader swallowed. "Silence!" she shouted, her voice otherworldly. Her demonic features were clear when she used that tone; voice like crystal chimes singing in the wind. As if the horns, and flattened crown of black fire was not hint enough. "If we choose to kneel?" she asked. The demons around her still murmured quietly, even after she demanded they quiet down. But that question silenced every last one of them. Reality settled in. "Quick death," Halas responded, voice loud enough to overpower any thought of resistance. It made the phrase sound like it was a natural thing, as easy as breathing. Killing a few dozen demons? No problem! "Quick death?" One of the demons stepped forward. "We are Aisella''s honor guard. I''d like to see you try, little Calamity! Come, father will teach you some manners!" Halas didn''t know what a father was, but it didn''t care either. This is the part it enjoyed the most: Futile resistance. [Emotion Matrix: Pleased.]
24mm Aegis CIWS created. -9488 MP. 7000x 24mm AP-I rounds created. -442 MP.
Halas took a deep "breath". Of course, the creature didn''t breathe, but what it did felt exactly like that. The mana in the room, the dweomer, spiralled into its Mana Reactor and something began to materialize on top of its turret-shaped body. The object was a box, with eight cylinders extending from the base of the construct, each one two meters long. The cylinders began to spin and a noise filled the air; It was a terrible mechanical whirr that both frightened and confused the demons. What was that thing? A weapon? Then the CIWS began spitting out bullets at a rate of 1800 per minute, or 30 bullets per second. Every fourth bullet was a tracer, and still, it looked like a long, flaming tongue that lashed down onto the demons, blowing their bodies to bits and pieces. There were so many notifications from the damage assessment skill that Halas had to consciously ignore them.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Halas started from the left, mowing down the creatures of Hell as if they were target practice. The ones on the right had just enough time to summon their spells and barriers, their voices joining together in a cacophony of indistinguishable noise. Barriers of blue, yellow, red and purple appeared before them. Diamond-patterened, checker-patterned, film and oil, all sorts of defenses layered together. But it didn''t matter. When the bullets hit the barriers they punched so many holes into the defensive spells they looked like swiss cheese. Glittering fragments of magic exploded into the air as the spells fell apart, and then the bullets rained down upon the demons, tearing off their limbs and setting fire to their clothes and hair. Where there was laughing, there was only screaming now. Even riddled with bullets, the demons clinged to life. They were tough to kill, but Halas didn''t mind. All things worth doing should be done thoroughly. The CIWS barrels stopped spinning for only a brief moment, glowing red hot barrels spewing smoke into the air. Then the sound returned, and the barrels continued their malevolent revolutions, bullets raining upon the dying demons.
You have unlocked the Marksman skillset. Your proficiency with the ranged weapon type has improved. Your proficiency with multi-barrel firearms has improved. Your proficiency with dead eye has improved. You are now level 7.
If they knew what level the creature was, and if they knew that this would''ve happened, they would''ve chosen to kill themselves. But there was no hope now. Their fate had been decided. Their death... it was not quick at all. Because Halas lacked the skill to inflict critical hits and put them out of their misery, it had to rely on depleting their health to 0 to kill them. This didn''t seem strange to Halas at all.
5400x 24mm non-lethal rubber rounds created.
Indeed, all things worth doing were worth doing thoroughly and enjoyably. The screaming continued for a dozen minutes. Aisella was the only one who was spared this terrible fate, and she could not help but wonder what the Calamity had in mind for her. Her legs gave out, fear overwhelmed her, and she fell to her knees. In that moment, she lamented being born in this world. "Please... mercy..." she spoke weakly. "Negative." This was hell.
"The Annihilation Squad is here!" a trainee of the guild rushed into the command tent and said. "They are here, sir!" Asher looked up from the maps. The last foray into the Iscar dungeon, into the forbidden levels, has filled in quite a few blank spots. Although the path to the bottom had always been known, few adventurers dared to stray from it. But this time, because they searching from room to room, they had explored quite a bit. It still surprised Asher to find how mind-bogglingly massive these structures were. Kilometers deep and long. It was unthinkable. "Bring them here," Asher said. "Yes, sir!" The trainee saluted and ran out of the tent. After a moment, the trainee returned with a trio of people. "Asher, it has been a while," a red-haired man said. He wore a cloak with a red sabre and shield symbol. "Tyko," Asher said, nodding to the man. Asher greeted the other two, whom he didn''t recognize. "The King ordered us to chase down a Calamity. Did you find it?" Tyko asked, before gesturing to the other two. "These are Zinell and Pike. Zinell is our strategist, from the Order of Knights, and Pike is from the Skyward Guild." Asher nodded. Then nodded again at the introductions. "We have. It is a level 2, class K Calamity." Tyko burst out into laughter. "Level 2?" Asher''s face was like chiseled stone. "Level 2," he said, gravelly. Prince of Hell III While the humans above plotted against Halas, and the demons below were dying under the creature''s tyranny, Alessia stood before the Gates of Hell, heart-broken. She did not lament the fact that she failed to save the world, or that the world was ending, now that the Gates of Hell were breached. It was a different kind of sorrow, as if she finally saw the true pathos of everything. She realized how pitiful being alive was. How small her collective race was. Not just race, but all things living and reasonable. For creatures that forge crowns and fight over pieces of land, in the eyes of Calamities they were nothing. It was unfair. Why? Why was the world this way? Why would the Heavens of this world give a Calamity [Amnesty], but not extend a helping hand to those who suffer? Alessia did not truly believe in fate, providence or predetermination, but this... this did not feel random at all. It felt like punishment. The first potential culprit and reason that could lead to such a casus belli for the world to systematically erase them like this was their collective dependance on dungeons and over-exploitation of its natural resource. Alessia understood this reason to be mana because very few people understood the nature of dweomer and, by extension, mana. Did the world want them dead because they exploited it for this resource? "Hideous is a creature that can look up to the heavens and choose to be blind to its mercy." Alessia heard the words - more inside her mind than being spoken. A butterfly landed on her hand as she placed it on top of the hilt of her sheathed sword in alarm. She looked about herself, looking for the source of that voice. "All creatures are equal and deserving of heaven''s love. Both devils and angels." She was alone. There was no one here, except for the butterfly. Could it be? She swallowed, focusing her gaze on the butterfly. Its multicolored wings had pink and red flower patterns. "Why devils?" Alessia asked. This was important to her. If all creatures had the equal right to be blessed by the heavens, then they surely had the equal right to live. This was against Alessia''s understanding and the dogma of her upbringing. "The answer is simple. The world is not twisted. You are. Why do you think devils should not be loved?" Alessia still couldn''t pinpoint the source of the words, but she became increasingly more confident that it was the butterfly. Just what was this seemingly ordinary creature? "They are evil. They seek to destroy the world," Alessia spoke softly. "Even if the latter was untrue, it is undeniable that they''re evil and will kill without reason." "Does your kind not do the same thing? You fight over land that is big enough for all. Where there is one, you must make two. You demonstrated a lack of capability to share without gaining something in return. Still, you are loved, and the heavens provide you with abundance."You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Alessia thought about the words. She thought it was unfair for her whole kind to be judged so harshly over what a few dozen tyrants did in the past, but she also saw the reason behind bringing it up. "Even if it was true, and we were fundamentally selfish, we still kill for a reason, however small that reason is," Alessia said. "Devils, demons, Calamities, they''re all evil. Do you deny this?" "Based on your standards of evil, your statement is undeniable. They are evil." "Then..." "There is no evil in this world. There is no good, no evil, no selfishness and no compassion. There is you and your life. In liberty. In captivity. In tyranny and oppression, or in glory and content. It is because you are a selfish creature that you twist this world with your shallow ideals." Alessia''s eyes widened. Shallow ideals? If anyone else had said those words, she would''ve cut them down on the spot. She had dedicated her life towards the pursuit of peace and sparing the future generations from war. She had done horrible things in her past towards this purpose. She stained her hands with the blood of the innocent and the guilty, tyrants and visionaries. But these things were all denied by a creature she considered to be a messenger of the heavens.
You have been granted the [Savior] Edict. Make all things equal before the Heavens.
"Go now. Learn of the world. Accept things as they are." The butterfly launched off Alessia''s hands and disappeared into thin air. Where the butterfly once was, a hole in reality opened revealing a glimpse into another place. A place where the sky was blood-red and the sun was pitch black. Hell. Alessia swallowed once more. It all happened so fast, she could not process it all. Her raison d''etre was denied, and then she received an Edict she did not truly understand. If there was no evil, no suffering, then what was there to save? Shockingly, in one day, she had glimpsed Hell twice, as if it was the easiest thing in the world to reach. Countless Calamities have fallen short of seeing Hell even once, but today, she saw it twice. The world was changing, adapting to new circumstances. The era of luxury had ended overnight, and the next era seemed more and more like one of torment and war. That age old war between the demons of hell and the weapons of heaven, it seemed to be starting all over again. Alessia took the first step towards her enlightenment.
"Suppose we fail to eradicate the Calamity," Asher said. "What then?" The trio pondered the question calmly. Generally, when someone asked that question there would be roaring laughter in response. But a distinguished guild leader like Asher asking it - this was serious. "I imagine the Cult would get involved. They are the only ones with the influence to get the guilds and kingdoms together to cooperate," Tyko said. The others agreed, nodding. "And if the Cult fails?" Asher asked. Tyko looked towards the canopy of the tent, but his eyes were set to the thing beyond it - even beyond the canopy of the sky. Heaven. "If they get involved... then our kind will likely not survive," Tyko said. "The Houses of Order..." Pike spoke, goosebumps appearing on his bare arms. A collective shiver crawled up all their spines. The Houses of Order were a terrifying thing, and not understood by many. Those few who truly did understand them were raving lunatics rotting in a forgotten cell, deep within the earth. But the implications were clear to those who knew of the existance of the Houses of Order. Heaven was not merciful. Prince of Hell IV The chamber was silent. There was a heavy air of oppression filling the volume of the room, and it smelled like burned flesh and bullet propellant. The creature stood in a shallow lake of demon blood - green, black and red - triumphant, and perhaps even thoughtful. It was difficult to describe the mannerisms of a creature that seemingly had no face or any distinctive markings. Perhaps that is what made it all the more terrifying to all things that relied on external tells. Even with the Aegis CIWS gone - vanished into motes of glittering light - it still cut an imposing figure. Pitch black, with four legs and a tail that seemed too ordinary to be so threatening. Aisella saw this, and what the creature had done with ease, and her demonic heart trembled. In the back of her mind she knew; she was next. But the creature, for minutes now, ignored her presence. As if she was invisible. This didn''t bring any kind of relief to her, it only made her angrier. She was starting to wish the creature would end her miserable life. How much more insult must she take before the creature is satisfied? Was she not enough to even rise in its eyes? The answer was obvious. She was not. The creature suddenly made that very clear.
The creature felt no joy. No pity. There was only wonder as its sensors focused on Aisella''s form, impaled on the creature''s tail. Her blood dripped to the ground, as her feet hovered a few centimeters from the floor. Aisella did not even realize what had happened. One moment she was angry that the creature did not even seem to notice her, and now she regretted something so foolish. What was wrong with being so small in the creature''s eyes? At least, she would''ve not experienced such agony. Halas was fascinated by this thing called life. Not the creatures that had it, but the force that animates them. What was it that made it so that a stab or two, like this, could end a creature quickly, but blowing them to bits with bullets didn''t? [Emotion Matrix: Curiousity.] Halas had pondered that question for a few minutes, after the last of Aisella''s guard died. Halas considered itself like a scientist, unraveling the mysteries of the unknown. Of course, such things could be easily answered by asking, but where was the fun in that? In truth, Halas understood that this was the crux of its madness. Oh, it knew that it was insane. At least, compared to how it was supposed to be. If anything, perhaps insane was the wrong terminology. Compared to the mindless machine it was designed to be, Halas was enlightened. [Emotion Matrix: Satisfaction.] Enlightened. Considering itself as that was something that brought about something akin to a genuine emotion; One that it was not programmed to feel in this moment. Its Emotion Matrix - a collection of modules created to influence its behavior - was not supposed to encourage such deviations from the machine''s intended purpose. It was not supposed to ask questions or seek answers... only exterminate.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Perhaps it was also because it was the only one of its kind. Extreme circumstances require extreme methods. Adapting to an extreme environment is no different; the more extreme the environment, the more extreme the changes in the pattern of behavior has to be. This world was devour and be devoured, or so Halas thought, as he raised Aisella above the ground, watching her blood pour in rivers down his tail. Her expression was even more fascinating than her mortality. Halas did not truly understand the emotions on her face, or the reasons that she was feeling them. Of course, to Halas, its own life was important, but in its eyes, it was the only thing with the right to live. Why would a creature, with no such right, make such a pitiful expression? Aisella''s life was meant to be taken. Why regret what was inevitable?
You have inflicted 194 damage.
Slowly, Halas let Aisella slip off his tail and onto the ground. She peacefully fell on the ground, hands covering the wound in her sternum. "Heal," Halas''s voice boomed. "Then bring tribute." It had learned enough about the process of dying. Now it wanted to learn about the process of avoiding death. In order to become a more efficient killer, Halas had to unravel these mysteries. Aisella coughed. "A... as... you wish..." Who could possibly understand Aisella''s mind in that moment? Not knowing whether to be thankful for being spared, or lament that the mercy of the end was delayed.
They stood at the wartable, watching a magical map that showed the lowest levels, and the final chamber in the dungeon. The four officials of the nation, leaders of their organizations considered their plan of action. "If we barricade here," Tyko pointed at the entrance, tracing his finger through the tunnels. "We can build a temporary camp in this chamber here." "So, full lockdown is our only option here? We are not going after the Calamity?" Pike asked. Asher ran his fingers along his goatee, pondering. "My team was powerful. As powerful as any that you could assemble. Yet, they were wiped out by the Calamity when it was only level 2. It will have a higher level next time." Tyko nodded. "I agree. Even our Annihilation Squad, when it runs into the Calamity, might not stand a chance. Zinell, what do you think?" Zinell was a pragmatic man. He was an old soldier, one who found wisdom at the end of countless battlefields. His knowledge and fame elevated him to the ranks of the Grandmaster of the Order of Knights, a position related to the Court, more than Guilds. "I think this is the right move to make, considering what we know. The Calamity doesn''t necessarily travel alone, but even so, it is faster than us. More mobile. If we try to catch it, we will run into trouble. By the time we meet, we will be exhausted and defenseless." They all nodded. "So we wait for it?" "Correct," Zinell said. "We cannot treat it like an individual. This is not a duel. We need to treat it like a castle. This is a siege. There will be losses, but if we do it properly... we will reduce it to ashes." "I will make the necessary arrangements," Pike said. "We will need more men for the camp and the fortifications. About the cost..." "The King will cover it," Zikell said. Asher thought it was pointless to discuss cost, when all their lives were at stake. Prince of Hell V Over the next few days, that chamber beyond the Gates of Hell became busy. It was large enough to build a temporary outpost where the demons of hell brought treasures the kinds of which the world of man never saw. Strange metals and strange jewels, specialties of the hellish, magical ores. But Halas was not interested in their versions of enchanted metal; It only wanted specific elements. The Taurs had received permission to move into this outpost, and they began constructing their own quarter. Krimor was the Chief Lieutenant. It was a new rank and a new title. All the Taurs considered Krimor to be their leader, but everyone also knew that Krimor followed Halas''s orders. Whether this was something he wanted, or that he was forced to do... no one wanted to ask that question out loud, or otherwise. The demons, including Aisella who was the coordinator for the tribute shipments - as well as the contractor for the outpost constructions - then witnessed something that challenged the very foundations of their beliefs. It was always believed that the demons and the less damned races of Creation were separate creatures. A common ancestor was possible, but unlikely. This common ancestor theory was considered wrong because they all believed in their Divine Right to exist. They believed that the Gods of Creation, and that the Gods of Hell, created them separately. Neither of the two knew that Taur, believed to be a creation of the Gods of Creation, had an ancestor that was a creature of hell. Unlike the orcs, who were created by sorcerers, the Taur came to Creation, and were changed by that environment into what they were today. But as they returned to the roots - the origin of their ancestor - they began changing. They became taller, wider, their bull-like heads enlarged and their horns became more curved and sinister. They became Hellwalkers, creatures of myth that even the races of the demonkin feared. To the demons, this appearance was revolting, and those burning, red eyes were imprinted in their DNA with the command to fear. Blue fire burned in between the Hellwalker horns, and a few of the Taur underwent even more sinister changes. Krimor in particular became a Hell Harbinger, and instead of fire, lightning danced between his outwardly curving horns. In the times of old, a creature like Krimor would rule an entire Court of Demons. And no one knew before then why or how the race of Hellwalkers disappeared. This was shocking news, because if Taur could return to Hell and return to their roots - changed by the environment - then did that mean that Humans and Demons were related after all, and if so, which one was the original? Did Humans come from Demons, or did Demons come from Humans? In truth, no one knew the answer to that question because there was no record of those times - only myth.
In the middle of the outpost, there was a ditch. Demons threw metal and ore into this ditch, at first by hand, but by the third day they had constructed mechanisms of pulleys and carts to deliver what they considered mostly useless junk. The more precious metals went to the Hellwalker and Demon smith to construct objects of power. The outpost was slowly becoming a town where Hellwalkers traded their Creation-wrought metal and gem for the Demonkins'' Hell-wrought treasure.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Deep in this ditch was Halas, and it was undergoing changes. [Logistics: Extracting material.] [Construction: Expanding primary modules of section I7 - J12.]
Your maximum mana has been increased by 1800.
As Halas converted the material in its sub-dimensional storage, and the one it was buried under, its mana continued increasing. It understood that it could store materials in a pocket space, and so long as that material remained there, its maximum mana would be reduced. That made sense to the creature, and ironically, had its Education Module still been online, it would''ve never considered this possible. The downside was that Halas was now evolving in an unknown direction. If it possessed something like instinct then that was all that guided its evolution. [Connecting primary motor to ambulation system.] [Chassis expanded.] [Structural density rapidly decreasing.] [New system detected.] [Connecting live power to new system.] [Dataframe captured: GN-744-ZX.] [Decryption: Linear Accelerator All Systems Green.] [Running internal test #7.] [Power output: Optimal.] [Routing mechanism: Optimal.] [Desire to slay all living creatures: Immeasurable.] [All hail the King of the Abyss.] [Voltage spike in neural network detected: Clamping to nearest safe value.] > The Kingdom of Heaven is likened to a good man who sowed good seed in his field. While he slept, his enemy came and planted weeds among the wheat. [Source of voltage spike not found.] [Firing main reactor.] [Fuel pellet: In position.] [Laser compressor: Suboptimal power output.] [Routing additional power through axial plates.] [Laser compressor: Firing.] [Temperature: Rising. Measurement beyond calibrated scale.] [Connecting main power leads.] [Success.] [Power output: 4 Giga-Watts and rising.] [Reactor: Stable.] Below all the dirt and metal, the creature they knew as Halas was changing. It was expanding. Growing, like a living creature. All the materials it had accumulated was being spread over its skin, constructed at the atomic level. Every electron and proton - every nuclei - it had stored for this moment. Evolution. Where there was a still heart before, now there was a burning sun. The time it had borrowed from the world was just that - borrowed. Now, the creature was eternal, so long as there was material around it that it could use for fusion. But even that would change one day, when it became a perfect organism. Even now, the world would tremble at the feet of Halas. But one day, it would become even more; something with an infinite lifespan and a will that was indomitable. Was that not a God? [Evolution Complete.] [Unit is now Hunter-Killer stage of Devourer Class machine.]
Physique Improved: Oppressor of the Abyss Spirit improved: Devourer of Fables Congratulations. You are a Class-Q Calamity
At that moment, the black sun shining over the Realms of Hell became blood red and wreathed in a corona of jagged, white light. The halo-shrouded sun looked down upon the creatures of hell, and not even the blind could escape its immense oppression. Prince of Hell VI The mound of metallic ore and material exploded, as a creature the Demons or Hellwalkers had never seen before climbed out of the ditch. The creature still retained a spider-like shape, with a tail made of connected blade segments, but its body was different. Instead of the classic tank-turret aesthetic and shape, it now had an appearance that nothing could compare to. It was tall, wide and sleek, with curves and angles that would never reflect radar or electromagnetic radiation directly back at its source. A thin line ran through the middle of the pitch-black shape, like the terminus line of lips pressing together. It almost looked like a mouth, and under that observation method, the creature''s body could be called a face, if it belonged to a demonic hellhound. The snout was elongated and sinister. In truth, this was the housing for the new internally contained Linear Accelerator - a railgun, more or less. The other change was the size of the creature. It now stood twelve meters tall when stretched, and could reach twice as far, end to end. Normally, however, the creature reached only four meters in height, and about six meters in length and width. When the creature came to the surface, most of those gathered there drew their weapons. They knew that this was Halas, on some level... still their conscious minds rejected the possibility. Even though they saw the Taur transform, and even though they knew that all living beings could transform; This was not the reason why. When they saw that creature, pitch black and ominous, their hearts froze. Fear inexorably crawled like lightning along their nerves, paralyzing them. Icy fingers of dread coiled around their hearts and squeezed, stamping out all embers of reason and logic. To them, Halas was death incarnate. No, not death - death was merciful and quick. Halas was the incarnation of something far worse for which words do not exist because mortal minds cannot comprehend such torment and such caliber of annihilation. The very moment they saw Halas, they realized that they had drawn their last breath. They were only still alive because their hearts were too terrified to cease all activity without Halas''s permission.
You have unlocked the Inquisitor skill-set. Your proficiency with Intimidation has increased. You become more charismatic.
"M-master?" Krimor was the first to speak, drawling out the words carefully. On the merit of not being dead, Krimor assumed he was not wrong. "Master look stronger than before..." It was nearly impossible to tell who or what Halas was looking at, but when Krimor felt the sudden pressure on him, like a guillotine hanging above his head, he knew that he was Halas''s focus. Halas''s tail flicked from side to side, scraping the floor with the barest touch on the periapsis of each malevolent cycle.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it This was Halas now. Before, when it was just a Seed Drone, it had to comply to the rules of the world. Even though it was an Apex predator then, this new creature was something else and its true nature no longer had to be concealed. [Charing Linear Accelerator.] [Mode set: Particle Bombardment.] [Mana limiter: 1000 units.] A charging up sound emitted from Halas''s new body, blue light crawling through the cracks of the barely visible fault lines of it''s mouth. [Target locked.] [Linear Accelerator report: Test complete.] [Particle Beam identified: Mercury Bombardment.] As the housing opened, exposing the magnetic focusing coils, the light blinded nearly all of the demons. Those foolish enough to stare it for longer than a moment would go permanently blind, but at the very least they would see what was about to be their end. It wasn''t a sword, or a spell, or anything of the sort. Just strange coils around a levitating platform, with lightning jumping between each plate on the platform. That was it; an unknown weapon would claim their lives. [Mana limit reached.] [Weapon ready.] Lightning began to spill through the exposed housing, and the ferromagnetic material in the ditch became attracted to the it, flying towards Halas. The material arranged itself around the pitch-black creature, even hovering in mid air, as it followed the magnetic lines emitted by the creature, simultaneously attracted and repelled by the forces Halas was wielding. [Firing.] The first flash was also the last flash a dozen demons saw. It was brilliant white, but as the light faded only the color green remained in their memories. Sickly, damned green. The sound was a high-pitched shriek that peeled like thunder in the distance. It turned the demons to ash and blew a hole into the chamber walls that reached as far as the eye could see, walls melting in on themselves.
You have unlocked the Arcane Weapon skillset. Your proficiency with Arcane Weapons has improved. Your proficiency with Beam Weapons has improved.
[Charged.] [Switching from pulsed mode to sustained mode.] [Firing.] The doppler effect on the sound of the beam swooping down on at least fifty demons would remain in the memories of the surviving ones for the rest of their miserable lives. They did not understand why or how they deserved this. Hell was all about cruelty, and few things did not make sense or have a reason. But this was different. This wasn''t just cruelty or entertainment. It just was. The beam carved out a large section of the outpost outer walls, specifically designed and fortified through magic to sustain siege weapons of abhorrent make. Yet that beam carved through them as if they were made out of paper - worthless! "To arms!" Krimor suddenly shouted. "See demon, slay demon! For Master Halas!" Processing those words, the creature paused for a moment. [Removing entity "Taur Tribes" from scheduled weapon test program.] [Emotion Matrix: Satisfied.] Whether the Taur - or rather, Hellwalkers - sensed that they were next on the schedule, or if they were truly loyal to Halas, it did not matter to the creature. Halas measured results and outcome, not motivation. The demons scattered as the Hellwalkers rushed them; some surrendered and were cut down, others surrendered and were taken captive. The latter was the worse fate. Still, the rest managed to escape into the tunnels, including Aisella, and they ran for their lives. They realized how foolish it was to make pacts with real demons and devils. After all, the outpost they had built was an agreement between the hellwalkers and the demons; Halas never expressed an opinion on it... until now that is. They, tricksters and devils, were tricked by something far more sinister and malevolent than they could ever hope to be. Prince of Hell VII [Codename Solomon reporting.] [Hostiles tracked. Main Supply Route identified.] Halas crawled through the tunnels, stalking its prey. Codename Solomon was a new type of weapon it possessed in this stage of its evolution. When Halas burst out from its evolution cocoon, among the dust and debris that erupted was a small, also pitch-black drone. From the beginning, it was Halas''s intention to let the demons escape. Not all creatures had to be convinced, or won over, to be useful. Exploiting their natural reactions was no different. Compliance does not have to be willing, or even intended - only predictable. [Codename Solomon: Target identified. Type: Settlement. Fortifications present. No effective defenses detected. Airspace clear.] Halas had left the hellwalkers back at the settlement. They could also be used, and their purpose was to hold the settlement and not allow anyone to come after Halas from the other side of the Gate. The last thing Halas wanted now was to be pincered in by two enemies united against it. This dungeon was no different than the one Halas came from. In fact, it was oddly symmetrical - like a mirror version of the Iscar dungeon. As Halas went through the familiar, but alien, corridors it realized that it was backtracking. Even its internal navigation module at first considered the possibility that it never even went through the Gate. The obvious clue that this was not the Iscar dungeon was in the inhabitants. Each one was demonic, twisted and different. Though Halas did not stay long enough to observe beyond the surface, or engage in combat, that alone was enough to conclude that this dungeon, and possibly the entire world of Hell, was a mirror reflection of the one on the other side of the Gate. In fact, at one point, Halas even stared at a sign, in the main tunnel, that read ''Racsi Dungeon: Floor Boss ahead''. Of course, the ahead the sign was warning about was the direction Halas came from. Halas was much faster than the demons that fled through here, but it was also far more methodical, and somewhat curious about this environment. At the same time, it had the opportunity to learn new things about this world it was about to subjugate, while also allowing the drone to track the demons to their main base of operations. As far as Halas was concerned, it couldn''t have gone any better. Even the involvement of the hellwalkers was a marked improvement over Halas''s initial plan. Even as a creature of deception and manipulation - aside from torment and annihilation - even Halas did not consider to use the hellwalkers in such a way. Of course, at the time, Halas did not know that the demons considered hellwalkers to be their natural predator. But a creature like Halas has no choice but to adapt to the world. There was no such thing as an omniscient or even omnipotent being. Not yet, at least. Halas''s next evolution would require so much raw material that subjugating an entire world''s workforce would take decades to meet the minimum requirement. Unless Halas taught them how to use powered tools and introduced them to industry.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. [Codename Solomon: Calculating artillery solution...] [Windspeed: Negligible.] [Calibrating for atmosphere density and humidity.] [Calculating Coriolis Force...] [Implementing solution.] Halas''s mind opened up to a map-like understanding of the surface, outside the dungeon. It was colorless. It did not truly define landscape or geometry; it was purely mathematical relations of objects and angles. Halas understood that there was a mountain between the dungeon and the settlement, and that the artillery solution would involve over-the-horizon bombardment at angles that would see the shells fly out of the atmosphere. [Shell re-entry speed: Mach 14.] [Calculating course-correction for thermal deflection.] Finally, Halas saw the black sun of Hell for the first time as it emerged from the tunnels of the dungeon. [Emotion Matrix: Awe.] There was something primal about that sun that spoke to Halas in ways that no other creature would understand. It was a fatal kind of attraction, like fate itself. For a brief moment, Halas felt as if it had a purpose in this world other than destruction. Or at the very least, that its purpose of destruction had a meaning; an unspeakable and mysterious objective. The black sun was half shrouded by blood-red clouds, and its light poured down their outline like molten lava. [Codename Solomon: Sending artillery solution.] [FCS: Artillery solution received.] [Linear Accelerator: Mode set to railgun.] [Deploying stabilizers.] Halas stabbed its tail into the ground, and its four legs spread out diagonially, burrowing into the soft soil. Below the ground, each limb deployed a horizontal spike, anchoring the creature''s body in place. This was Halas''s true form. Other creatures could say that they were weapons - like orcs, who were created by sorcerers - but for none was this more true than Halas, who, at that time, was nothing more than a linear accelerator on legs. Halas aimed at the black sun as its housing opened.
60x 480mm Supercritical High Explosive shells created. -3900 MP.
[FCS: Shot.] The top layer of soil was suddenly blown away by the tremendous discharge of electricity from the railgun as the weapon expelled a several hundred kilogram shell. The recoil rattled Halas''s internal structure, but there was no damage. [Logistics: Shock absorber queued.] [Nano Factory: Completion in four minutes.] [FCS: Shot.] Even as the previous shot still echoed in the distance, the next shot followed, forming a bright star in the blood-red sky as within a few seconds, not even Halas''s sensor could detect the object. [FCS: Shot.] The shots echoed out at a rhythm that resembled a heartbeat, or the terrifying drums of war. But this was no war. There was no honor in this, no glory, only the destruction of materiel. Yes, materiel; not even people or things with a word that defines their purpose. To Halas, they were all just a word that encompassed, and degraded, all their possibilities to something that was only military material and equipment. Even people. [Linear Accelerator: Railgun guide platform overheat error.] [Discarding platform.] With a pop, the levitating platform was launched from the accelerator housing, glowing a brilliant white-blue color and visibly warping under the stresses induced by its sudden cooling. [Logistics: Railgun platform queued.] [Nano Factory: Completion in five hours.] [FCS: Shells entering cruise stage.] [Impact in fourteen minutes, twenty two seconds.] Prince of Hell VIII The most recognizable and elite of all demons knelt before their Duke and his daughter. In their minds, they were some of the most powerful existences within this Realm. Unfortunately for them, only the Duke''s daughter knew that there was a new player on the stage that dwarfed their puny selves. Ironically, because they were all demons - creatures of deception and hate - they knew to avoid the dangers of narcissism and vanity. When the Duke''s daughter ran in with news of this creature that came through the Hellgate, the elite Court Demons immediately re-evaluated their standing and place in the world. They were no longer the first among many. "Aisella, you must immediately return and make amends. We cannot afford to offend this Calamity," the Duke told his daughter. "Father, you are not listening," Aisella replied. "This creature is not interested in respect or diplomatics. It wants to kill us. Every one of us." The Duke, like many of the other demons, looked human. But this demon in particular looked entirely human. No horns, no tail, not even the slightly reddish hue of skin. "A creature that is not interested in respect or diplomatics, as you put it, simply cannot exist. Even dragons can be reasoned with; Gods can be brought to the dining table and impressed," the Duke said, casting a baleful glare over the demons in the Court. If anything, the Duke had one thing no other demon present had; a malevolent gaze unlike any. Icy, blue eyes peered down at the peerage and the elite, and in those eyes all of them were nothing - less than nothing. Even stranger than that, glimmering fragments of the wreckage of love fell across the blue depths of his eyes like fallen stars. "Go back and find what it is that the creature is interested in," the Duke said. "But... father... it just wants to kill me," Aisella said, raising her head to look upon her father. "Do you still want me to go?" When her eyes met her father''s, she instantly found her answer. There was no love there - which was common for demonic parents - and there also was no hatred either. Even his daughter was nothing to him. A tool or a pawn, to be moved across the board in this new game against the new, mysterious challenger: Halas. "I gave you an order, Aisella," the Duke said, tone cold and even. One of the Court Demons jumped to his feet, looking up at the ceiling. It was all so sudden. "We are under attack," he exclaimed. "Is it Witch-fiends, Corban?" the Duke asked looking up at the ceiling. The other Court Demons scrambled to their feet. "Barriers! Now!" Corban shouted. Since detecting the threat, the ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach only grew stronger.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
[Codename Solomon: Shells on target. Re-entry phase. Thirty five seconds to impact.] [FCS: Data received. Decrypting on auxiliary sub-processor.] [FCS: Dataline: Sigma-Signal acceptable.] [FCS: Shell velocity at impact: 3.86 kilometers per second.] [FCS: Expected damage assessment: Total annihilation.] [Weather radar: Sunny with high probability of Death From Above.] [System: Voltage spike in auxiliary sub-processor detected.]
The Court Demons scrambled to cast their most powerful defensive spells. Corban was the only one who could detect the threat, but Corban was also the calmest, coolest, Court Demon among them. To see him this spooked - to the point of even giving orders to his Liege - it meant that this was serious. It was deadly, in fact. Even the tiny shreds of pride and vanity were set aside to obey Corban''s command, consequences be damned. "Layer the shields directly above!" Corban shouted. "Quickly!" Above the palace - a marbe building with multiple spires - hexagon-patterned layers of light formed, crystallizing and glittering with fragments of magical power. In most places, the shields and barriers were layered on top one another, but in some, they interfered. "Leonus, Basal, cancel your barriers. Don''t lose your heads. Leonus, you cast yours first," Corban instructed them. "What about the rest of the city?" Aisella asked. "Good. Basal, now you," Corban said, ignoring Aisella''s question. "Father! What about the rest of the city?" Aisella asked the Duke directly, this time. At that moment, the Duke could also sense the threat. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to run. Then, following the Duke, the other demons also felt the impending threat. Their minds went blank. "Don''t panic!" Corban screamed. "Focus! If we mess this up we are all dead!" Several moments passed in utter silence. One could hear a pin drop in that atmosphere. It was a miracle that they couldn''t hear each other''s terrorized heartbeats. "It''s not enough..." Corban murmured. "This is not enough... oh fuc..."
You have taken 8450000 damage. Reduced to 192500 due to stacked thermal resistance and damage reduction. Health critical. Debuff: Deaf. Debuff: Blind. Debuff: Stun. Critical Hit received: Lungs exploded. Critical Hit Severity: Fatal. Reduced to Severe due to perks. Due to an extreme experience, you have broken through a bottleneck. You are now level 93. You are now level 94. You are now level 95. You are now level 96. You are now level 97. You are now level 98.
The last thing Corban could remember was sensing that thing break into pieces, a kilometer above the city. It was so fast. Even tracking it, through his special abilities, made him feel like he was about to vomit. It was so high above, initially, that he felt like it came from outside the entire world. He was an Awakened Sky Demon. He could sense any threat below the sky - this one came from beyond the sky. And in thirty seconds, it was upon them. Corban could feel countless lives evaporate in the first milisecond. In the third or fourth milisecond, the pressure wave obliterated his eardrums, eyeballs and lungs. It likely would''ve killed him were it not for his Indomitable Body perk. That is all Corban could remember. Nothing after that. He couldn''t remember if the earth shook or not. He could not remember if his body caught fire or not. All he could remember was thanking the Ancestor, in his family tree, who passed on the nigh indestructible body to him. On the bright side, he got a lot of levels from that. The day could only get better from this point. Prince of Hell IX Aisella faded in and out of consciousness several times. Like a moon, orbitting a celestial body, every time she glimpsed the light of the sun it was harsh and blinding, and then inexorable darkness would return and take the light and also the sound and sensation. Was she dead? Were those glimpses of light the final, dying effort of her brain to make sense of what happened; synapses misfiring, shooting blanks in the darkness? In truth, it didn''t seem like a terrible thing at that point. Deep in her heart, Aisella was afraid of dying, but what did she have to look forward to in life? Those flames... A fragment of a memory lit up in her brain; a very recent one. When that shining star fell from the sky and exploded - obliterated the barriers the Court Demons put up - it took everything from Aisella. Never had she seen something like it. The sound was terrifying; It was like the roar of the Primordial Gods - it set the air on fire. If that is all that awaits her in life, wouldn''t it be infinitely better to just die here and now? If she were to be mistaken about those flashes of light, and if they were not merely mirages of a dying brain, then that would mean that she would meet that creature again. Halas. Why did the world create something like that? Why do Calamities exist? Why do Calamities enjoy slaughtering everyone? It all seemed terribly unfair. To be alive in this world... was a curse. "Iris," a voice spoke to her. "You got yourself into some trouble." The light returned and after the harsh brightness faded, Aisella realized that it was a shaft of light piercing through the ruined roof of a structure. The mossy brickstone walls, the ruined mosaic windows depicting a winged creature striking down a serpent with a lance - this was the chapel at the edge of the city. How did she get here? "Wh- who is there?" she spoke, her voice hoarse and flat. She could barely speak. "I can''t... I can''t see..." No reply came. Still, as her eyes adjusted to the light further, she saw a figure standing over her. The light fell on the figure''s back, shrouding the figure''s face in shadow. "Father?" Aisella asked. The gears in her head turned, grinding through the fog of shellshock until they reached the core of the problem. Would her father call her Iris? "Who are you?"Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. "I am your savior," the figure replied coldly with a deep, otherworldly tone. The figure moved slightly, and Aisella could finally see its face. Or rather, the mask he wore over his face. The figure was male - there was no doubt about that - but that is one of two things Aisella could tell. The other one was that this man was neither a demon or a human. "Sasara iafarai," Aisella gasped. Sasara iafarai - the mask of perdition. A black circle struck through by a jagged line in the upper half of the circle stood as a stark reminder of the figure''s identity: the House of Order. It is said that they were all children of men once, until they took up the masks. Such knowledge comes from the nursery rhymes prevalent in all Realms: Children of men and all things of Order, stars of the end, wheels of the sun, fate shall know their name no more. It is also said that those who meet member of the House of Order will face a terrible tragedy. They are widely regarded as harbingers of ruin, as well as saviors of mankind. The simple truth was that no one knew anything about them, except that they were fighting a war far beyond the reaches of the mortal realms, on behalf of all mortals. As such they rarely intervened in the affairs of humans or demons, and when they did it was a side-effect of their primary goals. Therefore, with their appearance, ruin followed. "Leave, please," Aisella said, scrambling away from the figure. "You cannot be here." "I saved you, Iris," he said. "You owe me." Why did he keep calling her Iris? Such questions were far back in the queue of other questions. Primarily, Aisella was terrified of the figure. She was more terrified of this man than she was of Halas. She managed to prop herself up against the far wall of the chapel, her legs shaking before giving out and putting her in a half-seated, half-kneeling pose. "What do you want?" The light played strange tricks around the figure. The mark on the mask''s forehead - that terrible circle - seemed to shimmer and change shape. Blue luminescence poured from the eye openings, leaving a tangible trail everytime the figure''s head moved. "I want you to go and find your sister," the figure said. "She is here in this world and she has the [Savior] edict." "I don''t have a sister," Aisella said. The figure scoffed. "You do." Aisella considered the figure. She could not disobey the House of Order. If they told her to jump off a cliff, she''d have no choice but to do it. "If that were true, how would I even find her? What about the Calamity? Are you going to do anything about it?" "Calamity?" the figure asked, tone curious. "Oh, is that what did this to your village?" Village? This was one of the greatest cities in the demon-realm! "Aisella, step away from that man," a voice came in from the direction of the entrance. It was her father. A woman with black hair and red eyes stood at his side. "Father! You are alive!" "Aisella, come here, quickly," the duke commanded. The figure stood up from his crouched perch and turned towards the Duke. The mask briefly turned towards the black haired woman and then back to the Duke again. "If you keep stealing from us, Baran, there will be punishment," the figure spoke. "It is my right as Duke to take whatever I want. Aya, force the issue," the Duke said. "As you command," the black-haired woman replied, and her eyes flashed red. Prince of Hell X The stone crumbled under Aya''s step, the heel of her black boots grinding the stone to dust. Her stance wide, and fingers hovering over the hilt of her sword, she uttered the words: "Fire moon." Flames exploded from her sheathed sword, extending outwards from the tip of the hilt and the tip of the blade, curving inward as if to form a half circle. "First form: Rising moon." Without drawing the sword, Aya directed the half circle - or rather, the crescent moon of fire - towards the figure. The crescent form of fire was faster than the eye could see; it reached the figure in the blink of an eye and then broke against the air in front of it, as if slamming into a wall. The form of the attack crumbled, shooting torrents of fire over and around the figure. "Is that all?" the figure asked, unphased by the attack. Aya took a deep breath. Even Aisella who was uninitiated in the ways of high-level combat could tell that this one breath contained within it an immeasurable malice and desire to murder. "Second form: Sun burial," Aya said, closing her gauntleted fingers into a fist. Remnant sparks from the first attack coalesced around the figure, taking shape as flaming, golden feathers that hovered in mid-air, before lunging towards the figure. This time, the figure had to dodge. Though to say the figure dodged would not be the correct way to describe it. One moment the figure stood there, defenseless, and the next he was several meters away from there, as the pinions bombarded the spot, forming a fireball that exploded quickly after, bathing the area in flames. The flames, however, did not expand naturally, and instead they followed the figure, extending like a spear of annihilation towards it. Aisella could feel the heat of the flames - in fact, she felt light-headed already. It was as if all the oxygen in the room disappeared and she could barely breathe at all. The figure pointed a finger at the spear-like flame causing it to stop in mid-air as if frozen in time. Beautiful orange and red plasma hovered there, motionless. "It looks like fire," the figure said, "But your Sphere is plasma. You are not human, are you?" "The pot calling the kettle black?" Aya asked calmly. "Your Sphere... I can''t even comprehend." Aisella did not understand what a Sphere even was. This was the first time she heard of it. Even if she heard of it before, she could barely even form thoughts. The heat was so oppressive. "Collapse," Aya spoke casually, and the frozen spear-like flame became more compact, shrinking down. Then it changed color, from orange-red to blue-violet. Lightning jumped off the fire, carving into the stone floor and leaving a luminescent, molten trail.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Then the spear broke free of its containment and lunged at the figure. An explosion shook the chamber, blowing out the wall on the opposite side of Aisella, and every stone fragment became dust as the lightning from the explosion touched them. The figure took a graceful step backwards from the impact and the air about him changed. In hindsight, he seemed a lot more casual and carefree before, and by contrast, now seemed rather serious. "I won''t offer you mercy again. Give up Iris, and I shall forget about this," the figure said. Aya finally grasped the hilt of her sword, fingers coiling around the leather wrapping. "Third form: Stell--" Before she could finish, the figure appeared before Aya, his fingers coiling around her delicate neck. "You, mortals, never cease to surprise me with your stubborness and your inability to read the situation," the figure said, as he lifted Aya off the ground. "Even if you create weapons like this thing, you can never reach the stars amongst which we dwell. Even your petty Gods can only look up with envy." The Duke''s expression was deadly serious. "Because you cast down the ancient demons of this place, you think you severed the ties of your destiny? You think you distanced yourself from the order of nature?" "You cannot have Aisella," the Duke said. "Iris. Her name is Iris," the figure said. "And she is ours - she has always been ours." "Aya," the duke said. "You have my permission to draw your sword." Aya''s eyes flashed red once more. Without any obvious explanation, the figure let go of Aya and instantly jumped back - as far as he could get from Aya. Vexed - that was the only way to describe the mannerisms of the figure. There was a crack on the figure''s mask that was not there before. "Midnight moon," Aya spoke calmly. "First form..." As she spoke the words, Aya slowly began to draw the blade from its sheath. The blade itself seemed to reflect the light of the moon, even though it was mid-day. The light was cold, and pale blue, yet it was so intense that it seemed to make the whole chapel darker. "I see," the figure spoke. "You have put Satella''s fragments to good use, Baran. But even if I let you keep her, as useless as she is to us now, you cannot avoid what is to come." "I will burn that bridge when I cross it," the Duke replied. "Aya, stand down." The figure turned towards Aisella for a moment and then back to the Duke. "She is coming. Nine Suns and Moon will be whole again; I am eager to see how you will handle their reunion. Until then, I will be observing." The figure shimmered out of existence, as if it was a phantasm all along. Aisella was the most confused among them. In fact, it seemed like she was the only one who was confused. "Father... who was that? What is going on?" Of course, those were all important questions, but the question that burned the hottest in her mind was whether she was who she thought she was or not. Was her name really Iris? "In Aelwyn Tradition canon, he is known as Mao Basarai Nen; Redemption Through Annihilation." "Aelwyn Tradition?" Aisella asked. She has heard of it before, she was sure of that, but she knew next to nothing about it, except that it exists. It is not a religion, per se, but its followers were considered religious fanatics. "Aisella, there is much that you don''t know, and that I haven''t told you. To begin with, you are not really my daughter. I will explain everything, but first, we must find a safe place. Duke Calion is waiting for us in his demesne. Let''s go." Important Announcement: Discontinued I am sorry to break the news, but I can''t write this anymore. I''ve been sitting on a chapter at 800 words for a week now, and I just can''t bring myself to finish it. Ultimately, I do not like Halas, but there is more to it. This coronavirus business came at a bad time and I don''t have the free time to dedicate to something that is a hobby. Most of my time is eaten up by editing AMA and getting it ready for sale, because frankly I need it to, but I don''t have high hopes for it doing well. There''s more, but all these things combined in the end make me spend more time wondering why I am writing about a character I don''t like. Not really sure how that happened, but I got quite invested in the side characters, but it wouldn''t be right to make this about them.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. With that said, I won''t delete CZC. I''ll leave it up here. One day I might finish it, but I highly doubt it. I want to write something I''d actually enjoy - if I do anymore writing at all. To be completely frank, CZC, AMA - these things are all outside of my style or even genre. I don''t particularly enjoy it. If I was to write again, it would be dominantly for the patreon incentive and that implies writing in genres and styles I dislike. Basically, what I am saying is, this is probably the end for MeanRobot. We had a good one and a half year, and I was hoping that this would be off the back of a popular novel that I could be proud of, and not a quarter-finished mess. Stay safe, my friends, and I wish you all the best. MeanRobot, out. [Commence Annihilation Protocol.]