God From The Abyss

Chapter 35: Chapter 035: Red, Bones And Ice.

Mikael waved a hand, and the gem-like shard floated, spinning forward and into view slowly. Its core, blue, pulsed. while gold veins lanced outward like tiny strokes of lightning.

"How does this push one beyond his rank?" the Duke asked, his lips twitching in an almost imperceptible smile.

Mikael, knowing Duke Alan’s inclinations, knew he would ask the question to put the minds of his knights at ease.

He was that kind of human ruler that cared for his subordinates, unlike some Creator whose creation was actually better than her.

They flickered,his eyes, the golden patterns in them now rotating like a clockwork mechanism as he stilled channeled celestial essence into the shard.

"This world, as you may or may not know, has imposed a rule on its Awakened, giving them a wall, a limit to the efficiency and the speed of their progress as mages, mage swordsmen, magic knights, and the like. As a mana user generally. They all have ceilings beyond which mortals believe it is impossible to get past. This shard here," he tapped it lightly, sending a ripple of golden energy into the air, " is here to change that. You see, I designed it so that it interferes with the mana core directly."

He paused, making sure the attention of all the men was focused on him. In his plan to find a base of operations, this device, this activity, he had considered quite necessary for the smooth achievement of his objectives as a mortal. And this thought came just after he had reconnected with the Cosmic Gate days back.

’There was literally no need to brute force through things when there is always an easy way.’

" It stimulates resonance and breaks the walls from the inside, allowing the core to increase in size and further develop to contain larger amounts of mana. I mean that’s basically the difference within your ranks; Master, Sage and the rest. We’re not here for a class. But I believe you measure ranks based on mana pools, your core capacities and its purification capablities, right? Duke? Knights?" He asked to everyone, trying to bring them along.

There were a few whose expressions showed that they were trying their very best to not be interested in whatever he was saying, probably in solidarity with their commander’s dislike of the him.

He simply ignored them.

"Yes, of course." The Duke was most enthusiastic with his answer. This prospect was, if successful, going to be generational! And it was within his territory, within his domain! Which man would not be moved by the success it could potentially bring?!

They were failing a few rules concerning these kinds of development but success would always shut down criticisms. They just had to succeed!

"This shard gives them a taste of what lies beyond natural limits," Mikael continued, the light in his eyes getting brighter as even his own curiosity rose.

He turned to the knight he had called earlier, the look on his eyes beckoning him to come closer. The man glanced at his lord for permission, as well as for hope of safety.

Just before the Duke could agree with a nod, Valerian came forward in giant strides before kneeling before the Duke in reverence.

"My Lord," he began, "allow me to be the test subject for this experiment. If there is any backlash, then I will bear it."

" Ohhhhh, so you are a good guy too? Color me surprised". That earned him a full on, murderous glare that just put another smile on the lad’s face.

"But on a more serious note, Valerian, I can assure you that there is no backlash. Possibly."

Mikael came forward a bit, facing the kneeling knight. " There’s no way I’m giving you a chance to play hero, my good man."

This time he laughed out loud, causing Valerian to glare at him with full hate and intent to kill.

"I assure you, Mr. Knight. The side effects, or rather backlash, are close to non-existent. Okay, enough talk."

But as if to mock him, his own backlash from usage of divinity hit him. It’s usual punishment, the bleeding from his nose and mouth, coming up.

That alone was comical and the knights burst out laughing, Valerian included.

Mikael slowly wiped the liquid with the back of his hand, smiling. He let them have their laugh. Human companionship was strangely warm in ways he clearly did not anticipate.

The backlash was expected. The shard, after he’d change the structure of its creating spell, was slowly infused with celestial essence that Mikael had infused with a will. That was just the makings of the device.

Of course the amount of essence it bore was very minute since he wasn’t exactly sure that mortal bodies could bear the strain of celestial energy.

Without completely disintegrating, that is.

When the laugh had died down, he flicked a finger and a gentle pulse radiated from the crystal and its reach was just around the Commander.

The sensation was warm, tingling, like sunlight and lightning brought together.

Valerian’s eyes widened as his core shifted, resonating with the crystal.

"Do you feel it, Valerian?" Mikael asked, leaning forward with a playful grin. "That little jolt, yes. Do you feel it?"

Duke Alan’s interest, surprise, calculation, all peaked, mixing into the noble mask that rarely ever showed shock.

Valerian was considered a man at the peak of Grandmaster Rank as a magic knight, that is, a knight who fought mainly close combat but used spells every once in a while. They majorly used their mana to augument their physical capabilities and defence. In contrast, a mage swordsman was basically a mage that used mainly spells, but had some close combat skills for when they ran out of mana while pure mages solely cast spells.

For a single moment, the commander’s aura turned Sage rank. For a very brief moment. Just from the faint ripple from earlier.

Imagine using the whole crystal.

Mikael had used that flicker to finish his calculation as to whether the amount of celestial essence was safe, and he was pleased to know he had been right, and there was no risk at all.

Valerian staggered slightly, albeit not painfully. He had felt it. The surge. The slight increase in his core. The slight change in his Grandmaster-rank aura. It was subtle, safe enough to prove the concept.

The Duke could only nod his head in approval, as it took as he all he had to restrain himself from screaming at the top of his voice in joy.

The lad really did it! While the method was a bit misleading, dubious even. He was clearly delivering like he’d said he would!

Was the impossible was now possible!?

+ + +

The Vampire Mountain lay at the edge of the world, buried deep in the northern hemisphere. There, winter was not just a season — it was law. A permanent cloaking of the mountains. The snow never melted, was never permitted to!

Ice sheets stretched far into the horizon, and mountains rose jagged against a starless sky.

The sun rarely broke through the storm-veiled heavens, and even when it did, its light was weak and pale, still leaving the entire continent very much cold.

Deep within the heart of these frozen peaks and range stood the Citadel, the capital of the Race of Bloodsuckers, carved into the very frames of a mountain, fused with black stones and crimson red as if filled with the blood of countless prey.

In the heart of the citadel, she finally stirred where she lay — clothed in blood-red ceremonial silks, skin pale as moonlight, her hair spilling like liquid white. Her lashes trembled, and then her eyes opened.

Slit, glowing crimson!

For a moment, she took in the strange yet somewhat familiar surroundings of ice and rock, not understanding where she was or how she got here. The last thing she remembered was the three strangers at the brothel, before she had passed out.

’The brothel? Where was that even? Why was I at a brothel in the first?’

’Who am I again?’

The gasps and the clatter of armored knees hitting stone brought her back to the present. She turned to see figures bowed all around the chamber, their eyes lowered, but aflame with reverence.

"She’s awake!" One muttered, falling to his knees.

Her lips parted, but words failed her completely.

She could not understand why they did so, who they were. Yet her body seemed to accept their reverence as if it had always been hers.

She sat upright, her limbs obeying her and moving with unnatural grace — one of a person accustomed to command.

Even in her confusion, she instinctually descended from the altar with a poise she knew she didn’t have.

"My lady," an elderly servant came to her side, head bowed. "Allow this old one to guide you to your throne room."

"Lead the way."

Her tone was crisp, surprising her. She had meant to reject it, to ask where she was, who they were, what she was, but her body seemed to be failing to convey her every inner reaction.

"Of course." The woman bowed before walking out of the chamber, in slow strides, into a wide, long hall. She followed.

The figures in the chamber stood, hurried ahead, and bowed, forming a living corridor, without anyone giving an order; the instincts in their blood, compelling them.

She walked between them, behind the composed old lady, as the whisperings, kissing the cold floor seemed to be increasing every moment!

Deep inside Nyx’s mind, she was scared out of her wits.

’Why were they looking at her that way?’ she thought, her fears clawing at the edges of her visible calm.

But her spine remained straight, her chin high, eyes glowing faintly in the dimly lighted corridor. Her body did not falter in the slightest.

The stench of blood hung heavily as she walked through the endless stone hall, guided by the figure who did not dare to look at her directly again.

More people filled the passageways. Warriors clad in black leather armor, others in cloaks, and most dropped to one knee as she passed and whispers, mutterings, mumbles, filled the air.

At last, they arrived before massive black, iron gates that opened before her, groaning like a beast weary from slumber, and that revealed an interior that was just.....red. Red, bones and ice.

The throne room!