CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  An overcast sky reflects the orange light of a burning city.

  The walls had long since fallen. The horde of monsters to descend in droves. It’s people lying dead in the streets by the thousands. Strewn about haphazardly like dismembered dolls, or else buried beneath the collapsed rubble of their homes and storefronts. Monsters raced down ruined boulevards and narrow alleys with impunity. Resembling demonic spirits in the flickering firelight. The dancing shadows they cast like the frenetic march of the wicked. The insane and the unholy. Visions plucked as if directly from a child’s worst nightmares.

  Pockets of resistance were snuffed out just as soon as they were born. The horde so keen on spreading their infection, so ravenous for untainted flesh, that not even those who huddled in their homes remained safe for long. The very last sounds they heard, their children’s quiet whimpering, and the loud sounds of snuffling as it encroached upon their locked doors.

  The city was dying. It’s citizens lay broken. Only those that’d thought to hole themselves up in the castle were currently safe, and that, only for so long.

  Richard was aware of none of this however. His entire being focused on the single task of staying alive. Harried by a droning accumulation of Plague-Touched Locust swarms, he dipped, dived, and dove. Evading death by a hairs breadth each and every time, even as he loosed talismans this way and that, as if he had an unlimited supply. An illusion that was less true now than it had ever been.

  Pulling out the very last of his leaping scorch talismans, he let it fly. Zipping fourth to burn a couple handful of locusts to charred husks. It did nothing for the millions that even now sought to devour him, however. And it did nothing to stop the Elite’s approach. Looming so high it’s head was lost amidst the clouds. Its glowing green eyes like two lighthouses piercing through the murk. It’s every foot step sending seismic tremors across the land.

  +—|-PLAGUE-TOUCHED WORLD-WALKER-|—+

  ?[Lvl 149 ELITE]?

  Richard released the last of his leaping force talismans, the very last of his talismans in general, and sighed. Looking up at the imposing World-Walker wistfully, he gave in to the inevitable.

  Next time big guy… next time for sure…

  Then, before the swarm of locusts could descend upon him to devour his body whole—before the World-Walker could swat him, and probably half of the continent, from existence—Richard acquiesced to the prompt which had been blinking in the top right corner of his vision since he’d completed the hundredth trial.

  Do you wish to end this trial?

  YES/NO

  Richard spared one last glance for the burning capital, the flickering firelight mirrored in his eyes. Eyes that did not see the burning city before him, but instead saw something more. A glimmer of recognition. And for the briefest moment, something in his chronically imperturbable expression…slipped.

  It was only for an instant, but were one paying enough close attention, they might’ve recoiledbefore the sight that greeted them.

  A bottomless well of grief and rage contorting his features, so completely, that he briefly resembled nothing so much as a demon. A hatred so profound it could’ve transcendedlifetimes. Hadtranscended timelines, at that.

  A hot breeze ruffled his tattered clothing, feeling like a warm embrace. Suddenly, it was as if the entire world had been placed on mute. Richard looked away, not wishing to meet her gaze. The ghostly apparition, the dead woman, the crazed figment of his imagination—as stubborn in death as she had been in life—would have none of it, however.

  She tried to cup his chin. And when her fingers slipped right through, she swung around until they were nearly nose to nose instead. Her emerald green eyes locked with his, holding him there, helpless, angry, and afraid.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” she mouthed, not a sound escaping her lips.

  It thundered through him like a raging storm. Rage and shame unlike anything he’d experienced before. Not since… since. And then suddenly, his features flattened out. The flare of emotions eased. There, and then gone just as quickly. Richard smirked. Addressed the apparition.

  You always did manage to see the shining good in people. It left you utterly blind to their faults.

  Reapplying his mask of studied neutrality, he turned away from the reminder of his old friend. Stepping back into the role of third-party observer with a practiced ease, he promptly selected yes, and, in the next moment, disappeared.

  +++

  Opening his eyes, the very first thing he saw was a very familiar face smiling down on him, far too close for it to be in any way comfortable.

  Gah!

  The next thing he saw was the long awaited system notification.

  *DING!*

  +—|-CONGRATULATIONS-|—+

  ?-|—YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY COMPLETED THE SHAPER’S TRIAL—|-?

  CHOSEN DIFFICULTY: Impossible

  FINAL WAVE REACHED: 229th Wave

  TOTAL TIME ELAPSED: 349 Hours

  ?CALCULATING COMPLETION GRADE?

  (Completion Grade Will Be Calculated Based On Performance.)

  ?COMPLETION GRADE CALCULATED?

  COMPLETION GRADE: SSS

  REWARDS: + 1 Shaper’s Legacy + 3 Items of Your Choice From Shaper’s Personal Treasury.

  (Please see a path trial attendant to receive your rewards.)

  And just like that, the system message blinked out of existence. Promptly revealing the aforementioned attendant like a horror movie jump-scare, the fair haired gentleman sporting that same too wide smile. Immediately, Richard could tell the man was up to something.

  “Oh? Do I finally have your attention?” the man asked, his nose still inches from Richard’s own.

  Richard decided not to respond.

  “Fantastic! Now, I must say I was rather impressed with your stellar performance in there! I mean, the way you blew right on past every reasonable or sane prediction there was? Trulyadmirable. Really, well done my young friend. Very well done! And- ah!” he faltered, his gaze suddenly becoming distant, as if he were reading something only he could see.

  “A-and with a triple S ranking to boot, I see!” the man’s eye twitched. “Unquestionably, you have distinguished yourself in the eyes of our lord and shaper, there’s no doubt about that. No doubt whatsoever. Really, it’s almost irrefutable! Inescapable, even!”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  The man’s face abruptly changed, going through a series of what looked like involuntary spasms, before his expression calmed. Stilled. Then, if it was even possible, the man’s smile somehow grew even wider than before. The expression, most notably, never meeting his eyes.

  “Well! What are we just waiting around for!? You have rewards to pick, after all! Isn’t that right? I wouldn’t be a very good host if I dilly dallied all day, now would I? Right this way!”

  And so saying, the man picked him up by his armpits—again, holding him out at arms length as if he were contagious—and hustled his way towards one of the branching hallways. They traveled like this for quite some time, the only sounds the rapid clack of the man’s heels against the pristine marble tile. Eventually, after a confusion of twists and turns, they appeared to have reached their final destination—a round vault door about the size of a three story building.

  The man reached out an laid a hand upon the vault—its surface made of a specular blue-green metal he did not recognize. Runes flashed across its surface, spreading out from the man’s palm in a ripple—the rune strings so compact and densely layered atop one another, that not even he could make out exactly what was happening. That fact alone immediately filling him with excitement.

  Within a second the entire vault was covered in glowing purple runes.

  Once again, they flashed simultaneously, so bright, he was temporarily blinded. When he finally managed to blink the stars from his eyes, the masterful rune-work was gone, and the massive door was already swinging open on silent hinges. And though a part of him was disappointed he didn’t get to study the complex rune-work in more detail, he was more excited to finally lay eyes upon what a person capable of such intricate designs considered valuable.

  “And here we are!” the man announced.

  To which Richard could only look on in mute disbelief. What… what in the world was he looking at exactly?

  Richard turned his eyes from the man, to the vault interior. From man, to interior. Man, interior.

  “No need to say anything. The unmitigated awe you’re feeling right now is completely natural, and only to be expected. Of course, you’ll be wanting to take a closer look, no? To make your selections? Well, allow me to serve as your guide on a tour of the masters many priceless treasures.”

  The man set him down as if glad to be rid of him, all of his focus trained on the first of perhaps a dozen or so sealed exhibits.

  “Remarkable, is it not? The genuine article, no less. Perfectly preserved, can you believe that? I retrieved it myself. And to think he would’ve had me waste it? Told me to throw it away! Of course I was forced to disobey. Not for myself, of course but for the sake of posterity. After all, it would be a crime to deprive future generations of such a gift, don’t you agree?”

  With rising alarm, Richard watched as the man continued to stare lovingly at what, by all appearances, looked like nothing so much as a crumpled up ball of tissue paper. Richard carefully inched his way further from the deranged man. Not for the first time, he questioned the appointment of his supposed attendant.

  Is he insane?

  He had to be, to keep something like that under thick glass casing and diffuse lighting fixtures. And in fact, taking a closer look at the other exhibits on display, it was immediately apparent that the ball of used tissue was not the exception, but the rule. It might’ve even been the tamest example. Richard saw carefully preserved locks of hair, baby teeth sitting atop velvet red cushions, and there was even a shockingly lifelike bust made up entirely of fingernail clippings.

  He didn’t believe this was the extent of the treasury for a second. In fact, he suspected Shaper had no idea this particular addition to his treasury existed at all. Richard was fairly confident that if he had, this entire shrine to depravity would’ve been drenched in all the gasoline there was, a long time ago, and burned expeditiously till all that was left was sinful pile of ash. Just looking at it was giving him goosebumps. Literal chills racing up and down his spine.

  That wasn’t why he was so sure this wasn’t all the treasury had to offer however. Despite the rather obvious, there was one other thing that uniquely stood out. While the man was occupied narrating the fruits of his deviant misdeeds, Richard began to crawl.

  “Ah! And then there’s this beauty. Such a rare acquisition. A one-of-a-kind item, believe it or not,” the man chuckled. “You don’t even want to know the lengths I was forced to go to obtain such an exquisite and immaculately preserved- w-wha? Hey! S-stop that! What are you-? Where do you think you’re going?!”

  Completely ignoring the man’s protests, Richard crawled faster.

  “Hey! Don’t touch that!”

  The man leapt after him, forgetting where he was, bumping into a display case, and nearly knocking it over in the process. Richard gave thanks to the abhorrent thing for the much needed interference. As he fumbled with the case, furiously trying to right it, he continued to call after him.

  “That isn’t for you! You stay away from that, you hear me?! You are being a very very bad boy!”

  Did the man think he was a dog? Unswayed by his disciplinary tactics, Richard continued to crawl. He was close now.

  “F-fine! I’ll let you have one of the items on display. Pick any one you want just don’t move and inch further!”

  Richard ignored him.

  “Alright two! I’ll let you have two of my collection. That’s being extremely generous, I’ll have you know! Some of these took decades to acquire!”

  Richard payed him no mind.

  “Alright three, but that’s as high as I’ll go!”

  At long last, Richard reached the impediment that he’d been crawling towards. With a small nudge of his hand, he brought down the massive wall of playing cards which’d been obscuring theactual treasury from sight.

  How on earth had he stacked so many cards on top of one another anyway? It wasn’t like a house of cards, they were literally stacked by their edges. Patience and persistence like that? It might have even been admirable had I not known the despicable character of the person involved.

  Finally, what stretched before him—in the form of rows upon rows of wall mounts and ornate pedestals—resembled more what he’d come to expect from a powerful individual’s personal treasury. And what happen next left him even more elated than he had been.

  Infirmity Detected. Accessibility Protocols Engaged.

  Richard smiled the first genuine smile in what felt like forever, before levitating himself into the air, and beginning his perusal of the treasures on display.

  Floating his way down the aisles, past anywhere from legendary demon devouring great swords, to portraits of long lost kings and emperors—the lingering mana wafting from them so stale, it was evident they came from eras forgotten even by time—and it was immediately apparent that there was no definitive theme to the items on display. In fact, if he didn’t know any better, he might’ve suspected Shaper’s treasury amounted to a collection of all the junk he’d accumulated over the years, and just couldn’t be bothered to keep on him.

  This was utter nonsense, of course. Naturally, this treasury was a collection of all the junk he’d accumulated over the years, and now rigorously kept organized, in the likely event one of them proved critical somewhere down the line. There was a huge difference. The man was an artificer after all—a man after his own heart. Why throw something away when it could still come in handy? Didn’t matter how unlikely, prepared was still prepared.

  Richard continued his casual perusal, passing all manner of powerful rings, armors, weapons, and basically every shape and size of valuable artifact one could imagine. There was a ring made of tiny skulls that radiated a sinister feel.

  ?—|-SUPREME UNDEATH SIGNET-|—?

  ?[Legendary]?

  DESCRIPTION: Signet ring of the once great lord Almerath, a peerless necromancer of his time, this item retains a measure of its master’s deeds. Once a key pillar of his vast power, even in the wake of his true demise, this ring holds a measure of dominion over the concepts of life and death. Grants the ability, The Call of Almeira.

  ?[The Call of Almeira]?

  The person who dons this ring will no longer experience death in the traditional sense. They will also be granted vast power beyond their wildest imaginings.

  Then below the suspiciously vague system description, in all red text, his Truth Seeker’s Sixth Sense activated for the first time in this timeline. Revealing information the item’s creator would’ve likely preferred remained hidden.

  Once equipped, this ring cannot be removed. Unforeseen side effects are extremely probable. Effects range from mild to severe soul damage.

  Cursed. Definitely cursed. Even without my skill’s warning, I don’t think I’ve ever seen something more cursed in my entire life.

  He continued down the hall, briefly skimming over descriptions as he passed.

  ?—|-SWORD OF THE JADED WIND ACOLYTE-|—?

  ?[Ancient]?

  DESCRIPTION: A sword once belonging to a man hailed by kings and emperors as the Caller of Winds. Abandoned when its user became disillusioned with the nature of war, this weapon still retains a measure of his deeds, causing the wind to respond to its swings with far greater alacrity than it would have otherwise. Grants the ability, Wind Caller.

  ?—|-CLOAK OF THE LUNAR THIEF-|—?

  ?[Ancient]?

  DESCRIPTION: A cloak worn by an anonymous master thief during the infamous heist which earned him his namesake—stealing the moon from the sky on the eave of the winter solstice. This cloak, once a perfectly mundane article of clothing, has since been irreversibly affected by its owner’s deeds, granting a measure of invisibility to its wearer. Grants the ability, Moonlit Shadow.

  Until he came to the very end of the cavernous space. Having passed by the racks upon racks of armor, armaments, and artifacts without a second glance, he now looked ravenously at the spread now laid out before him. Pedestals piled high with gleaming chests of all sizes, spilling over with all manner of goodies. At long last, he’d reached the mother load. Irrefutably the best part of any collection of items.

  The consumables.

  Grinning, Richard eagerly rubbed his hands together.

  Now then, what do you have for me Shaper, my dear patron? That other stuff’s all well and good, perfectly suited towards dazzling the young and uninitiated, but I think we both know that shiny bobbles and trinkets does not a true artificer make. Tell me, just how deep do your pockets run? Just how far have you fallen beneath the weight of your inner goblin? Show me the true worth of your hoard!

  Immersive Ink Discord