Victor of Tucson-Chapter 43Book 10: : Awake

43 – Awake

Grand Prince Troyssas sat in his high pavilion, watching the distant spectacle playing out beneath the towering walls of Iron Mountain’s seat of power. He’d nearly left, bored to tears by the painstakingly slow progress of the Elementalists as they worked to remove the boundary stones Queen Kynna had put up. When he’d volunteered to lead the assault force, eager to see the slaughter of the House of Dar, he’d expected it to be a quick thing—a jaunt in the countryside punctuated with a few choice moments of violence.

He wondered how Kynna had known to prepare for them. Not only had she enhanced the palace’s already formidable defenses, but she’d also gathered up every member of her extended family—anyone who might have been used against her. In the end, it wouldn’t matter. At least they were all gathered here; it would make the executions convenient. They’d have to watch for Blood Poppies growing in these fields in the years to come.

Things were finally moving along, in any case. The boundary stones had been dragged free, opening a wide passage for assault, straight at the walls and gate. This was the kind of thing Troyssas lived for! If left in peace, his champions could hammer down those gates with their might. Therefore, Kynna’s defenders were forced to do battle. What entertainment! The landscape was a blasted ruin, but the walls and mighty amber ore gates held firm. Still, what fun to watch the pitiful defenders throw away ten lives only to wound or kill one of Matessa’s champions!

“You summoned me, Highness?” A deep, gravelly voice asked, and Troyssas looked down from his raised platform to see his sister’s new pet, the champion she’d brought in from off-world.

Dro Vah was shirtless. In fact, he wore nothing but black, silken pantaloons, and when he folded his well-muscled arms over his chest, the pose emphasized his stunning physique. A lesser man might have been impressed, perhaps even intimidated. Troyssas, however, was a giant among giants, and he thought the display pathetic. He was tired of the showboating stranger. What had the self-proclaimed dragon done to earn any of the vast wealth his sister had showered upon him?

Troyssas gestured toward the keep, waving one massive arm so his heavy, gem-encrusted bracelets jangled. “Why aren’t you participating?”

The man shrugged, tilting his chin up and to the right so the wind caught his shoulder-length sable hair and blew it out of his face. He turned his emerald eyes toward the wild showcase of magical abilities and martial prowess taking place near the palace gates, and in a lazy drawl, replied, “It’s a bit beneath me, don’t you think? Let the pups sharpen their fangs on those foxes and wildcats. I’ll wait for a lion.”

“Ah, I see,” Troyssas nodded, feigning conviviality. “You’re content to wait for something more challenging?”

“Of course, Highness.”

The man’s lazy use of the honorific made Troyssas bristle, but once again, he contained his irritation, pouring honey into his voice. “I’m so pleased to know you don’t grow bored. I couldn’t help but note that several of my courtesans have come and gone from your luxurious camp house. I trust your needs have been met?”

“Well, a dragon’s needs are great, Highness. I make do, however.”

Troyssas nodded, choking back an angry retort. He was ready to explode, but the moment wasn’t perfect yet. “And, dear dragon, should a champion worthy of your attention fail to appear, you’re content to rest here? Is the pay sufficient? Will my personal attendants and lovers be enough?” Some of his ire leaked into his voice with that last question, and Dro Vah turned his sharp gaze upward, narrowing his brows, perhaps recognizing the game Troyssas played.

“Do you think your sister’s wealth and faith are misplaced?”

“Let me consider.” Troyssas brought one of his enormous hands up to his chin, rubbing a thumb through his soft, feathery red beard, feigning deep introspection. After a long moment, he stood and leaped down from his platform with an earth-shaking rumble. He stepped close to the shirtless champion and leaned forward, putting his enormous head mere inches from the smaller man’s as he growled, “Why, yes, Dro Vah. I do. I think you’re a colossal waste of time and a fraud to boot! If my sister hadn’t explicitly forbidden it, I’d kill you myself. Know this, dragon boy—if you don’t make yourself useful during this assault, I’ll see her mind changed on the matter.”

Dro Vah didn’t flinch. He didn’t seem angry, either. “Troyssas, I was hired to fight a man your other champions feared. I came to this assault hoping to face a titan. If he appears, I will kill him. Regardless of that, however, your sister has a gift for Queen Kynna, and I believe, when it’s delivered, I will have another man to slay. When that fight is done, if you still have the stomach for it, I’ll be happy to entertain your challenge.”

Oddly, by the time Dro Vah finished speaking, Troyssas found himself looking up at him. Had the man grown? Had he been concealing his actual size? The prince took a step back, glowering, but the supposed dragon’s confidence had cooled his lust for violence. Rather than bluster or threaten further, he asked, “A gift?”

The champion nodded, his perfect lips stretching into a wide smile that exposed oversized, silver-capped canines. “That’s right. A little something for the queen that, if delivered with proper timing, should drive home the hopelessness of her situation.” He turned to glance at the battle again. “Let her valiant, overmatched defenders kill a few more of your champions, and then I’ll deliver it. You’ll enjoy the reaction.”

###

A moment of disorientation overcame Victor as he peered around the dim interior of his vault. The color of the ambient lighting seemed off, more tinted toward orange than red, but when he blinked, he realized it might be an effect of his eyes. Everything seemed sharper and brighter. When he focused on the key in the lock, he could see the tiniest details as though he held it under a magnifying glass. He shifted his gaze downward, toward the smear of dried, dark blood he’d left as he’d crawled into the vault. He could see the tiny flecks peeling away from the inviolable surface of the floor.

Blinking, he focused on the enormous string of System messages blinking at the corner of his vision, demanding his attention.

***Congratulations! You have refined your race, evolving your Quinametzin Bloodline into that of a Nascent Primordial Titan – Legendary 5.***

***Your feat, Epic Quinametzin, has evolved to Legendary Titan.***

***Legendary Titan: As a result of breaking through to the legendary levels of your titanic bloodline, all of your attributes have permanently increased by a further 100 points.***

As Victor read the description for “legendary titan,” he blinked, pausing his perusal of the messages, as the words sank in. Improving his bloodline to legendary had just given him 600 attribute points! It was an absurd amount—nearly twenty levels’ worth of points in a legendary class. More than that, it didn’t seem he’d lost the points the “epic” version of the feat had given him. “And I’ve got a shitload more messages to read,” he muttered, pushing aside his urge to check his status sheet.

***Your feat, Behemoth’s Regeneration, has evolved to Primordial Behemoth’s Regeneration.***

***Primordial Behemoth’s Regeneration: You have inherited the ancient, undying vitality of a primordial behemoth. Your flesh no longer merely heals—it reknits with relentless, elemental force. You will now rapidly recover from wounds that would be fatal to others, including severed limbs and organ damage. This regeneration adapts to repeated injury, accelerating over time and resisting attempts to suppress it. It continues to complement and magnify similar benefits gained from other sources.***

***Your feat, Wyrm’s Fervor, has evolved to Primordial Wyrm’s Fervor.***

***Primordial Wyrm’s Fervor: Consuming flesh seared by the fires of your Breath Core awakens the dormant potential within your primordial flesh and bones. This practice offers a steady—if gradual—path to strengthening your primordial bloodline.***

***Your affinity for glory-attuned Energy has been lost!***

***Your affinity for inspiration-attuned Energy has been lost!***

***Congratulations! You have gained an affinity for hope-attuned Energy!***

***Your spells, Inspiration of the Quinametzin and Banner of the Champion, have been merged into: Standard of the Last Light.***

***Standard of the Last Light – Epic: You manifest a glowing standard—the final light against the dark—that floats behind you. Allies who see it will be filled with hope, gaining endurance, resistance to fear, and a bonus to their will attribute that increases the longer they stand their ground. The more desperate the situation, the stronger the banner’s effect. Enemies who attempt to extinguish that hope suffer mounting penalties the longer they remain in sight of the standard. Energy Cost: Minimum 1000 – scalable. Cooldown: Long.***

***Your previous methods for manifesting certain types of Energy are no longer available to you. Removing all spells dependent on such Energy.***

***You have lost your ability to cast: Heroic Heart. Removing.***

***You have lost your ability to cast: The Inevitable Huntsman. Removing.***

***Congratulations! You have advanced your Spirit Core: Legendary 5.***

Despite more messages waiting, Victor paused, taking a minute to absorb everything he’d read. The improvement to his bloodline was incredible but not unexpected. He’d known that Chantico had guided a considerable portion of the potential Energy into him with the purpose of unlocking his primordial titanic traits. Still, he hadn’t expected to gain ten ranks of his bloodline, something that would have required a hundred fortunes’ worth of lesser natural treasures.

In all honesty, that was an understatement; Victor had no idea how difficult it would be to acquire legendary-tier natural treasures. The value of that royal jelly had truly been incalculable. Then there were the changes to his feats—not all, but some. His regeneration was much improved, which made him wonder—

Victor looked down at his chest, and sure enough, the curse was still there, but it was smaller, driven back by his will, his aura, or just the nature of the royal jelly in his system, perhaps. Whatever the case, it was back to the size of a baseball, and it struggled to consume his flesh. What was more, his flesh regenerated so quickly as to look almost whole as the little void flailed against it.

“Hah.” Victor pressed a finger against the void, and though it stung and began to eat away at his skin, it was nothing like when he’d last touched it. Victor pulled his hand away, clenching it into a fist before him. He could feel the density of it. He could feel the…potential. If he weren’t already cramped in the vault, he might have tried to release some of it to see if Chantico was right—could he control his body with the force of his will? Looking at the door, realizing he was already too large to go through it easily, he tried the opposite.

Victor could feel his aura tightly wrapped around his Core space, an integral part of him now that he’d gained his epic-tier Aura Veil. With a flex of his will, he moved it outward, around him, wrapping it around his body and then compressing it. To his amazement, he shrank. He folded more of his simmering potential onto itself, increasing his density and reducing his size. Still, he knew he’d be enormously heavy when he stepped outside the vault, so, just as Chantico had suggested, he willed himself to be lighter.

He could feel it working. He didn’t have a means to measure it, but the ponderous weight of his limbs faded, and he moved more like his old self. The best thing about his new nature was that he didn’t have to maintain the pressure of his aura and will. The change persisted, though he could feel the potential in him, ready to be unleashed.

Smiling, Victor resumed his evaluation of the changes that had been wrought over him. His loss of Heroic Heart and the Inevitable Huntsman irritated him, but he knew he could get them back. There had to be a way to weave courage and justice with hope; he just had to discover the pattern. He was pleased with his new Standard of the Last Light but wondered how much he’d miss inspiration. Was there a way to cast inspiration-type spells with hope-attuned Energy? Hadn’t Chantico said they were related?

He pushed the questions aside; they could wait for a time when he wasn’t so pressed. He was nearing the end of the System’s messages, so he carried on reading:

***Congratulations! You have achieved level 91 Doomforged Tyrant and gained 24 will, 24 strength, and 5 vitality.***

Victor stared at the message for a moment, slowly nodding. The class was “mythic,” which made it better than legendary—48 attribute points per level rather than 36, not counting the five vitality from his Titanic Constitution feat. He was a little surprised that strength and will were boosted equally, but he wasn’t going to complain. He read on:

***Congratulations! You have achieved level 92 Doomforged Tyrant and gained 24 will, 24 strength, and 5 vitality.***

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***Congratulations! You have earned a new class spell: Dread Imperative – Epic.***

***Dread Imperative – Epic: With a burst of fear- or rage-attuned Energy, you project your will in an area attack. Enemies in range of the spell will be forced to confront the inevitability of defeat. Foes who fail to resist will suffer crippling morale loss. They will find attacking you a daunting proposition, and depending on the strength of their will, they may flee or freeze up entirely. Energy Cost: 15000. Cooldown: Medium***

***Congratulations! You have achieved level 93 Doomforged Tyrant and gained 24 will, 24 strength, and 5 vitality.***

***Congratulations! You have achieved level 94 Doomforged Tyrant and gained 24 will, 24 strength, and 5 vitality.***

***Congratulations! You have achieved level 95 Doomforged Tyrant and gained 24 will, 24 strength, and 5 vitality.***

***Congratulations! You have earned a new class spell: Maw of the Broken Will – Legendary.***

***Maw of the Broken Will – Legendary: With a surge of focused will and fury, you tear open a rift in the ground, forming a jagged chasm that howls with the screams of the conquered. This pocket dimension, born of fear and rage, lashes out at all nearby enemies.

Weakened or demoralized foes will be pulled into the maw by unseen hands, trapped in a pocket realm of torment where they experience the twisted echoes of their worst defeats, fears, and failures, losing health and Energy and suffering permanent damage to their will attribute. Once ejected, your foes will be stunned and broken.

Your allies will be immune to the spell’s effects, though the battlefield will change while the maw is open. Energy Cost: 55000. Cooldown: Very Long.***

As Victor finished reading the last System notification, he realized he’d stopped breathing. “Chingado!” he hissed. The spell sounded horrifying, but… awesome. Both of the spells he’d gained from his new class seemed great. It was almost enough to make him lose sight of the fact that he’d gained five levels in the ninth tier! Chuckling, giddy with the heady rush of achievement, he pulled up his status sheet to review all the numbers:

Status

Name:

Victor Sandoval

Race:

Nascent Primordial Titan - Legendary 5

Class:

Doomforged Tyrant - Mythic

Level:

95

Breath Core:

Elder Class - Advanced 9

Core:

Spirit Class - Legendary 5

Breath Core Affinity:

Magma - 9, Blue Ice - 9

Breath Core Energy:

6300/6300

Energy Affinity:

Hope 9.4, Fear 9.4, Rage 9.1, Unattuned 3.1

Energy:

208226/208226

Strength:

1000 (1100)

Vitality:

1057

Dexterity:

380 (585)

Agility:

403 (608)

Intelligence:

512

Will:

919

Points Available:

0

Titles & Feats:

Titanic Rage, Ancestral Bond, Flame-Touched, Greater Titanic Constitution, Titanic Presence, Desperate Grace, Unyielding Challenger, Elder Magic, Born of Terror, Battlefield Awareness, Battlefield Presence, Aura of Command, Legendary Titan, Mountain's Resilience, Primordial Behemoth's Regeneration, Blood Supremacy, Primordial Wyrm's Fervor, Peerless Warborn Mind, Flight of the Lava King, Presence of the Tyrant

Skills:

System Language Integration

Not Upgradeable

Spirit Core Cultivation Drill

Epic

Breath Core Cultivation Drill

Advanced

Cooking

Basic

Animal Taming

Basic

Unarmed Combat

Basic

Knife Mastery

Basic

Spear Mastery

Advanced

Bludgeon Mastery

Improved

Axe Mastery

Epic

Breath Weapon Mastery

Improved

Tactical Mastery

Basic

Grappling

Advanced

Sovereign Will

Epic

Titanic Leap

Improved

Aura Veil

Epic

Spells:

Iron Berserk

Epic

Channel Spirit

Improved

Prismatic Illumination

Epic

Project Spirit

Improved

Spirit Walk

Advanced

Tether Spirit

Basic

Abyssal Tyrant

Epic

Imbue Spirit

Improved

Honor the Spirits

Improved

Alter Self

Improved

Velocity Mantle

Epic

Wild Totem

Advanced

Impart Nightmare

Improved

Guardian's Rescue

Epic

Volcanic Fury

Improved

Wake the Earth

Basic

Roots of the Angry Mountain

Advanced

Greater Spirit Binding

Advanced

Voice of the Angry Earth

Basic

Locate Ally

Basic

Core Domain

Epic

Glacial Wrath

Epic

Tactical Reposition

Basic

Standard of the Last Light

Epic

Dread Imperative

Epic

Maw of the Broken Will

Legendary

When he saw his Energy level, his eyes bulged out. When he’d consumed the royal jelly, his maximum Energy had been around seventy-six thousand. Now, he had more than two hundred thousand. Had cultivating his Core into the legendary ranks really boosted it that much? There wasn’t any denying the report.

He was also surprised to see that his hope affinity wasn’t any higher than his fear. He’d thought it would be stronger, based on how it was represented in his Core space. It certainly looked stronger. Then he recalled that he’d split his negative affinities into rage and fear, and he remembered how Chantico said it would be a good idea to keep them that way. Seeing his affinities represented as raw numbers drove the point home—if he hadn’t done so, his fear would be a match for his hope.

He wondered about his “race.” What did it mean that he was a “nascent” primordial titan? He was just emerging? What would it be like if he ever became a true primordial titan? Would he be like Azforath? Was that what would happen when he advanced to the “mythic” tier, assuming there was such a thing?

Victor took one more look at his much-inflated attribute values, and then, shaking his head in disbelief, he closed the status sheet. He knew things were urgent, that Kynna and the others were no doubt worried about him, eager to see him emerge from the vault, but he wasn’t done yet.

He could put off dealing with the curse, but that would mean leaving Lifedrinker on the spirit plane, possibly wounded and definitely alone and worried. Even if he put his feelings aside, he knew it would be foolish to go into battle without her—not when he was likely outnumbered and facing enemies with all manner of unknown capabilities. So, that decided, he shifted into a lotus position and closed his eyes, clearing his mind. Then, as he’d done so many times in the past, he formed the pattern for Spirit Walk and once more went to battle his curse.