A Novel Concept - He Who Eludes Death-Chapter 414 - 403: Wyrm Kibble

Congratulations, you are dead! Your Talent [He Who Eludes Death] brings you back to life once a day.

Number of deaths: 45

Synergy detected with your talent [Homo Elysian Obsession] and your Titles [Four-Headed Hydra] and [Life is Hard; I'm Harder]. Your body and spirit are rebuilt and will be more resistant to what killed them:

… Attribute potential redirected to skills per user request.

Lvl Up: [Osmosis] lvl 7

PHY +1

META (Affinity) +4

Lvl Up: [Probability Manipulation Resistance] lvl 2,..., 21

META (Chance) +60

Lvl up: [Tribulation Hunter - Unique] lvl 41, 42

META (Chance) +18

Lvl up: [Pyro Champion Physique] lvl 6

CONST +9

VIT +3

META (Endurance) +6

META (Authority) +9

Lvl Up: [Solar Resistance] lvl 34,..., 39

CONST +12

VIT +6

Lvl Up: [Radiation Resistance] lvl 7, 8, 9, 10

CONST +12

VIT +12

Meta(Authority) +12

Regaining consciousness, Priam remained silent for a minute, then lifted his gaze to the Necromoon. Perched in the heavens, the astral body radiated death. The Juggernaut did not look away. For the first time, the corruption seeping from the crimson light struggled to revolt him.

"Compared to the direct attention of a Tier 9, the aloof presence of the Mistress of the Undead is almost laughable," he murmured. The ease with which the entity had bypassed [He Who Eludes Death] to condemn him across time and space told him she was just below the Zenith. Compressing his remaining lifespan into an instant was certainly an efficient way to kill him. If that was truly what had happened.

Wait. She doesn't command Time, but Fate. So… Maybe I'm destined to die on a given day from some inescapable event, and She simply built a bridge to it? Damn, thinking about powers like that gives me a headache. She Who Weaves Fate…

The Title imposed itself on him. An entity who must wield near-absolute control over the Concept, and who had not appreciated his rebellious declaration. The memory of her punishment made him shiver.

Nothing more.

Thaal had advised him not to dwell on the moment, for the sake of his sanity, but the administrator underestimated Priam.

Humanity's Impossible Tutorial could not be cleared without accepting death. The Talent granted by his Patron was built upon that premise, helping him endure the psychological consequences of the ones to come. His annihilation under the gamma-ray burst had largely erased the horror of the Tier 9's disapproval.

Still, a mere reprimand nearly killed me… would have killed me without an admin's intervention. Priam grimaced at the memory of his catatonic state.

"Note to self: don't mouth off to powerhouses," he growled, mocking himself. Jasmine had told him to be polite to the Demiurge. He hadn't listened. Less than a day later, his impertinence had cost him one life.

Still… I can't be the only one to have spoken those words. Was it because I'm a Prince? Because there's a chance I might actually act on them, She smote me? Or maybe I'm flattering myself. Maybe a Prince simply has responsibilities and can't run his mouth like a commoner.

Shaking his head, Priam decided to read his notifications to clear his mind. The resistances he had leveled up were remarkable.

[Osmosis] was one of his very first skills. Granted upon his arrival in Elysium, it allowed him to passively absorb ambient aether through his skin rather than just his lungs. Priam wasn't sure why it had just leveled up, but that didn't stop him from rejoicing.

[Probability Manipulation Resistance] was self-explanatory. Thaal had manipulated probability to direct a gamma-ray burst onto Earth, and Priam was adapting to the cast of the die.

"Hope that wasn't really Earth, or Prometheus is going to harp on about it," Priam muttered before squinting at the next notification. "[Tribulation Hunter - Unique]… So an admin can rent the System's weapon. Interesting."

The last three upgrades were the most expected. The gamma-ray burst had killed him through both radiation and the heat born of atmospheric ionization. One attack, thirty-four levels. Not bad for a fraction of a second of adaptation. Shame I didn't unlock [Fate Resistance]. A man can dream.

Despite that minor regret, Priam couldn't help but smile at the thought of the upgrades ahead. If a cosmic cataclysm wasn't enough to earn ideal prerequisites, he would lodge a formal complaint with the System.

"At least it didn't damage my crown," he said aloud, glancing at the halo of ethereal mist now resting above his head. The artifact did not interact with the physical world.

As though acknowledging the thought, the System stirred one final time.

Achievement - Mythic : Commoner on the first day. Noble by the first month. Prince within the first year.

The sycophants applaud. The Dukes hone their blades. The Monarchs look down on you. Your ennobled spirit knows the truth: he who stagnates is but a dead man waiting.

The throne or the grave; for you, there can be no other end.

Message for Humanity, Sector Hope and Wandering Islands:

Priam Azura is hereby crowned the first Prince of humanity.

The Seven Concepts congratulate you.

Potential + 10 000. 2 000 000 Sun points.

"The throne or the grave," Priam repeated, rolling the words on his tongue. "I suppose that sets the tone."

A smile. The Juggernaut had no interest in fighting for power's own sake—but survival? He was in every day of the year.

Checking his reward, Priam frowned at the absence of a Token, until he remembered that with his new rank, the Sun Shop had become worth browsing again.

Lvl Up: [Ciphered Record] lvl 15

MEM +6

META (Affinity) +6

META (Authority) +15

Each Achievement whipped his fans into a scrying frenzy. Priam allowed himself a mocking smile, until he felt something shift in the surrounding aether. The primordial fluid was responding to his will with less resistance. No, I'm missing the point.

Normally, a fragment of his focus was always busy running [High Aether Manipulation] in the background. Nothing major, just a few ripples stirred in the ocean of magic saturating Elysium by his will. A simple exercise, but one that kept the skill sharp. The ultimate goal was to wield it as effortlessly as he moved a limb.

Now, it wasn't his only way to command the fluid. A single thought was enough for the aether within his Domain to cling to him like a cat begging for affection. Not just his own, as was the goal of the Supremacy, but even the ambient energy. While it reacted more sluggishly than when he used [High Aether Manipulation], it also felt more instinctive.

Upon inspecting his status, Priam understood.

Meta-authority exceeds 1 000 points. Second milestone reached. Congratulations!

His meta-authority had just crossed the thousand mark. A threshold that, through his sphere of authority, granted him the right to wield wild aether directly.

Quantitative turns qualitative. In a universe without the System—and therefore without [High Aether Manipulation]—that must be the prerequisite to become an archmage…

At the end of the day, this wasn't the kind of breakthrough that would allow him to immediately equal Esmée's proficiency, but it did refine his innate talent. More importantly, it was a necessary step toward unlocking [Ideal Aether Manipulation]—a skill Priam still hadn't given up on.

Let a man hope.

Below him, the undead horde shrieked. As the world erupted into uproar, Priam decided to do some spring cleaning before heading home.

Announcement to the Wandering Isles:

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Priam Azura is hereby crowned the first Prince of humanity.

Tyr Lögsögumad, Champion of the Aesir, scowled. The momentary lapse was enough for a Tier 3 undead to slip beneath his axe, lashing its thorned tongue toward his groin.

"Stop!" barked the Judge.

The corrupted chameleon froze for a single heartbeat—long enough for Tyr to decapitate it. The rotting skull bounced and rolled into a lake of acid.

"He insists on broadcasting his Achievements," Tyr growled while cleaning his axe.

"Because it strengthens him," explained a young elf watching the surface of the green liquid. "You'd be surprised how many idiots scry him each time!"

Tyr stepped closer to look. Instead of their reflections, he saw their first rival raining fireballs upon a horde of the corrupted.

"You count among those idiots."

The elf burst into a shrill laugh. "I'm not scrying an enemy, I'm calling on a friend. Totally different thing," she grinned.

Tyr had his doubts, and judging by the poor image quality, Priam's resistance wasn't entirely in agreement either. Still, he held his tongue. Eve's weird logic allowed her to partly circumvent the information blockade, and that was all that mattered.

"Strange," she pouted.

Tyr stayed silent, knowing better than to ask a Fae a question. As expected, she eventually elaborated.

"His crown is woven from mist."

The Aesir narrowed his eyes, then shook his head. It took a crown to perceive another.

"What does it matter? It will soon change to reflect his role as Juggernaut."

Tyr had no doubt his rival would choose that path. Archetypes weren't immutable, but to change so quickly…

"I would've thought he'd display Pyro," Ève admitted before dismissing the illusion with a tap to the lake's surface. Though it was only an illusion crafted from memory, her hand began to melt. "It's the Concept he favors most."

A few meters away, a young woman kneeling at the acid's edge stopped inhaling its fumes. "Priam's loved fire since he was little, but he never cared for attention. If he wields the flames, he is the mist," Kaya said, then flushed scarlet. She, too, disliked the spotlight.

Tyr kept his silence. Unlike his two companions, he had never met the First.

"Ah, found it," whispered the Beauty before she began to swell. Her frail body grew until her skull brushed the cavern's ceiling. When her transformation was complete, the Beast roared, shaking the acid lake. She planted her forepaws in the corrosive liquid without fear. Beneath her ivory fur, stony hide tougher than bedrock ignored a corrosion capable of erasing a Tier 3 with ease.

The taotie, a beast whose lineage had given rise to a high bloodline, plunged a maw full of fangs into the lake and began to drink. Renowned for its gluttony, the mythic creature guzzled the acid at an impossible rate. Soon the lake's level dropped low enough to reveal a tomb.

"Told you it was here!" Ève cried. A pair of wings unfurled from her back, and she darted toward the sepulcher. "Feel that spiritual pressure? The corpse inside had to be Tier 5! Tyr, look at the inscriptions on the walls! That's the Body Tempering method I promised you! Ahah, I'm amazing!"

The Judge exchanged a weary glance with the Beast before descending toward the mausoleum. He had never doubted the Fae's word.

Her Memory Concept was unrivaled when it came to hunting down Myths.

On the wall-screen, a young man in boxers was fighting a dragon. Lasha had explained more than once to Luc that it was only a wyrm, but he preferred the word dragon. It sounded cooler.

Sitting on the edge of the couch, Luc roared at every move like a fan at the World Cup finals. When Priam headbutted his opponent, Luc shouted in triumph. When his Champion lost a heart to a laser, the mercenary nearly fainted.

Fortunately, fairy tales end well, and the prince charming finished by slaying the dragon.

Announcement to Sector Hope:

Priam Azura is hereby crowned the first Prince of humanity.

"Nice! He really is a Prince now. All he needs is a princess," Luc crowed, even as the feed began to lag from too many divinations at once.

"What princess?" asked Lasha. The elf had never read the classics.

"Any princess, I'm not picky."

The Tier 5 shook her head while Luc stared at the screen. "Still… He's going to be okay?"

At the last instant, it looked like the Champion's wounds had vanished, but Luc wanted to be sure.

"For his heart? Yes. He did it on purpose."

Luc's eyes bulged. "You kidding?! Why?!"

"For an ideal prerequisite? A Title? Style points? Who knows. But when the guy's willing to broadcast an Achievement just to farm resistance to divination, you learn to expect anything."

The young human nodded, then froze. "Lasha, can we post the fight on the Mercenary intranet?"

"To help him boost his resistance?" The elf shrugged. "Maybe. But we'd need the diffusion rights—"

The doorbell rang. At Lasha's gesture, Luc rose to answer. A stranger, skin black as midnight, was standing in the heart of the guild's headquarters.

"Hello, Luc. My name is Thaal, and I'm Priam's agent. May we talk?"

"Mind Ennoblement…" Kazuki peered above Priam's head before shaking his own. "I see nothing."

"Me neither," Jasmine said, narrowing her eyes. "Why do you get a crown and not me?"

"Because I'm a Prince. If you don't like it, you can always kill Léo."

"Excellent idea," the assassin purred, stroking a dagger.

"So, you can see our fates?" Kazuki steered them back.

Priam squinted like a near-sighted man without his glasses, studying his female friend. "I see… some kind of connection between us? Not like a string or thread, as it's not really my eyes that see it. More like mutual attraction, if you catch my drift."

Jasmine licked her lips. "Oh, I catch your drift…"

Priam smirked and kept observing. When his vision went blurry, he shook his head. "Other than that, there's something shadowy in you. Or maybe you are a shadow. Sorry, my crown's still rudimentary, so it's fuzzy."

"You mean useless. No offense, but I expected more from a power with 'be a Prince' as its entry fee."

Priam shook his head. "Fate vision's a support ability; less flashy than Body Tempering, but just as vital. To act, you first need to perceive."

As he spoke, he glimpsed a future where his eyes would unveil every possibility, and by contrast, every impossibility. Perfect targets for the Juggernaut.

"I'm still not convinced."

"How about this: on my way back, I passed hundreds of tribesfolk in the streets. Didn't give them a second glance. But the moment I stepped into this room, I saw that you and Kazuki mattered to me."

"You need a crown for that?" Jasmine scoffed.

"I think what Priam means," Kazuki cut in, "is that he could pick his rivals out of a crowd—even if he'd never seen them before."

"Exactly. Not just rivals, either: anyone with whom I share…"

"A fate," Jasmine finished. "Knowing you, that must piss you off."

Priam tilted his head back, choosing his words carefully. "I don't like the concept," he admitted. "But if it exists, I might as well exploit it."

"If you've got to swim, go with the current," Kazuki quoted, pulling out a whetstone for his spear. "Do you see your fate, or the Juggernaut's?"

"I'm not sure…" Priam glanced out the window. Far off, a faint silver mist hovered above the Aelbe's district. A phenomenon foreign to his Concept, betraying its link to his new ability. "But Thaal said that depending on how I handle the tribes, I might validate a minor action."

"Then don't let the chance slip," Jasmine said. "Who knows when the next one comes to upgrade your useless crown."

"About that…" Priam opened his hand. Resting in his palm was a card depicting a gladiator. Under fate vision, the Colosseum VIP Token gleamed. Injecting his aether in it would teleport him to a Colosseum. "Béchar told me wave ninety-five hasn't been beaten in millennia in Sector Hope. Sounds like a job for the Juggernaut."

"Mmh. I've got another job for the Juggernaut: get to bed. It's late, and I want to sleep," Jasmine yawned.

Kazuki shot Priam a funny look the young man deliberately ignored.

Leaning against an opening, Priam whistled softly at the sight of the arena, whole once more. The workers must have labored all night, replacing the melted glass structures he had left behind with fresh sand. "Feels like it was ages ago…"

"Talking to yourself? Where I come from, we execute the mad."

Priam glanced back. The Aelbe delegation had arrived, Léo at its head. Behind him, Rohan, Esmée, Aydan, and a few hunters followed in silence.

"Wasn't sure you'd show."

"Did you seriously think your strike wounded me?"

"No, I mean, why come to a tournament you're going to lose? You could've saved yourself the trip. And the shame of a third place."

A deathly silence fell over the corridor. Everyone knew the Aelbe's hopes hinged on dominating the Tier 3 bracket. With Arnold in play, Priam didn't give them the chances of a snowball in hell.

"Sup, Aydan."

The prince raised a brow. "Champion Priam."

"I've got something for you," Priam said, tossing a book to the Empyrean.

Aydan caught it mid-air, then went pale as he recognized the cover.

"You read it?!"

"I thought it was a spellbook! How was I supposed to know it was just a crybaby's diary?"

His innocent expression would have earned top marks from his high school drama teacher.

The prince nearly choked on his own fury before roaring, "This insult will not be forgiven! Our enmity is now eternal!"

Priam shook his head sadly. "If I'd known, I wouldn't have given you a second gift…"

Rohan laid a hand on Aydan's shoulder, but the prince still leapt into the trap.

"What did you do?! Speak!"

"Well, let's just say you won't have to waste money on wyrm kibble anymore…"

Status:

PHYSICAL:

Strength 1 254 (+1)

Constitution 2 295 (+48)

Agility 1 653 (+1)

Vitality 2 211 (+48)

Perception 995 (+1)

MENTAL:

Vivacity (D) 666

Dexterity 985

Memory 1 219 (+11)

Willpower 1 310

Charisma 1 010

META:

Meta-affinity (O) 1 459 (+13)

Meta-focus 900

Meta-endurance 1 686 (+9)

Meta-perception 871

Meta-chance 1 367 (+164)

Meta-authority 1018 (+91)

Potential: 43 906 (+10 081)

Tier 0

[Tribulation]: Five Tribulations pending.

Next thresholds: 12 attributes > 1 200 / 3 attributes > 1 800 / 1 attribute > 2 400