Elysium's Multiverse-Chapter 327

A sly grin crossed his face. Elysium seemed to think that THIS was a pivotal moment in his growth, and Riven couldn’t necessarily disagree. It’d been the first time he’d fought someone else while using magic…

Pulling up his status page just to check, he saw that he was registered as a level 1 novice warlock, with only three abilities to his name: blessing of the crow, wretched snare, and bloody razors. He also only had a single level 1 minion, who was obviously Athela.

[1 Minute until fighting begins.]

His smile grew wider from underneath his hood.

“OOOOooohhh!!!” Athela crowed, rapidly tapping all eight arachnid legs with excitement as the notification popped up in front of her as well. “LET’S DO THIS!!! FIGHT TO THE DEATH, YEAH!”

He spared the demon a glance, just like he had a year and a half ago. Perhaps two years now, he’d lost track of time. Athela’s copy seemed none the wiser about what this was either. He remembered being so nervous, and needing to steel his nerves before the fight…

Not this time though. Instead, a bloodthirsty smile spread from his grin and widened to abnormal proportions as the false reality around him shuddered at his attempt to flex his pillars, but he didn’t push it too far against Elysium’s restrictions when he felt a sense of foreboding at the attempt.

If he remembered correctly, he’d won but had only barely done so - and had been seriously injured in the upcoming fight. It would feel good to trash the false memory of the bald fuck just for shits and giggles, but the Floor 40 notification had said his decisions here in this replayed memory would impact his true reality as well. He could also truly die here, which he doubted would happen for numerous reasons but he supposed it was possible if he didn’t take it at least a bit seriously. The main point of focus for him though, was that there would be a boon and a curse for every decision he made.

That was… curious. They related to his soul-lattice, yes? What kind of curses would Elysium inflict upon him, and for what reasons?

He wouldn’t have long to find out, of that he was sure.

Falling back into his memory’s timeline, he went through the motions. It was time, and just to make sure that everything was working right he gave his spells a try. Raising his free left hand and aiming across the small floating island, he thought ‘Bloody Razors’. Instantaneously, two spinning, serrated discs of crimson each about a foot in diameter materialized in the air on either side of his outstretched hand. 𝘙ΑℕȏβÈꞩ

They left thin trails of red liquid in the air out behind their blurring paths for brief moments until they slammed into the earth 20 yards away – leaving the grass there torn to shreds in little patches around an indentation the magic had cut into the ground before fizzling away into the air. They were so… pathetically weak. This was the base form of his spell? This is what it had been?

The sight made him literally laugh out loud. He could summon hundreds of thousands of similar projectiles right now without putting on a sweat. At least, that was the case outside of this memory-scape.

Trying to summon his black lightning, gluttonous storm razors, critical storm lance, or blood nova all were met with prompts directly given out by Elysium stating that he wasn’t able to use those abilities while here.

Not that he’d need them, but it was good to know that he was restricted in what he could do despite knowing how to actually cast the spells even without them imprinted on his soul pillars. He’d just have to make due with the two spells on hand.

[Time is up. Your fight to the death is commencing now. If no winner is announced within 10 minutes, both participants will die. If you have bonded companions due to your class choice, upon death your minions will be sent to the nether realm to try and find new masters for further exploration in Elysium.]

“BRING IT!” his Blood Weaver screamed when she saw the notification and waggled a blooded spider foot his way. “I don’t want to go back to the nether realms! We’d better win, you hear me!?”

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“You’re damn right we’re going to win.” He repeated the line he remembered so vividly, and gave her an encouraging nod while adjusting his stance to ready himself.

This time around, he saw the other looming island closing in before the two land masses collided.

The cliff faces made impact with a thunderous clap of noise. Rock slammed into rock with a huge boom, shaking both islands in a spray of debris. The ground shuddered and he waited for the shockwaves to pass. When the dust settled, Riven found himself looking at the same bald asshole who’d shoved him and told him inside the starter-trial’s pyramid to ‘move it’.

Riven needed popcorn for this shit. The only downside to reliving it, was knowing this wasn’t necessarily real. It certainly felt real though, and was the closest thing he’d get to having a sweet, sweet asskicking for the man that’d put him through a truly tough fight back in the day.

The larger bald man had chosen a caster’s staff… but he also had on Chalgathi’s amulet. He’d almost forgotten about how that item and the other pieces would later be forged into Messenger, and instinctively grasped at his chest - but found no armor or vertical maw there to greet him as usual.

Aside from that, the other man had chosen a minion that hadn’t ever been presented to Riven. It was a huge, skeletal, zombie wolf. The creature was large, but not as big as he remembered it being. Perhaps it’d just seemed bigger back then because Riven had been afraid. Patches of rotting flesh and fur with bright white eyes on glistening bones were the staple. The breath from the creature’s decrepit lungs came out as a gaseous cloud of green pouring through sharp fangs, and it was snarling at Riven with a keen hunger. It was two to three times Athela’s current size, but Riven only felt amusement now as he stared at the insignificant creature growling at him from across the elevated landscape.

Riven was no longer prey. He was a predator, but the man in this fake reality didn’t know that yet.

The cultist spat. “We meet again, pig.”

Riven’s eyes flashed red for just the barest moment, and he was yet again suppressed by Elysium as he began chuckling to himself - getting a confused look from Athela at his side.

“What are you laughing at?” Athela asked with a cocked head. “And what was that energy you just released? It felt really, really weird!”

But the bald man wasn't done speaking. He stepped forward to point at Riven with an accusatory posturing while warm winds rustled both mens’ robes. “You probably have no idea what’s really going on here, do you? To think that I would be paired with these worthless fools. How was it that any of you got through the labyrinth to begin with? Has Chalgathi become complacent in who he admits into his chosen? Was it not supposed to be us true cultists who received his graces?”

Riven held up a hand to silence the other caster, starting to walk forward to clear the distance. He was wanting to get this over with and move on to see what curse and boon he’d get from this particular copied memory. “I believe the time for monologuing is over with, friend. I don’t have time for this.”

The bald man, who narrowed his eyes at Riven as his zombie wolf began to roar at Riven’s approach, slammed his staff into the ground and pointed threateningly Riven’s way. “You DARE to interrupt me!? A chosen one of Chalgathi himself!? You will die for your insolence!”

“I’m sure. Now summon your pets and let’s get this over with.”

The man’s brow furrowed in rage. Shadows began erupting from the other caster’s staff, and the brief monologue thankfully ended. Condensing and reforming into one another, the shadows quickly created two skulking, terrier-sized quadrupeds created from Shadow-Mana. Their bodies flickered in and out of existence, each with two red eyes glaring at him and claws extending as they hissed his way.

Ah, the Create Shadlowing spell. He’d almost chosen that one himself.

[Create Shadowling (Shadow) – create temporary Shadow beasts that attack your enemies to do damage, Shadowlings are faster and stronger in dark places]

“They’re quite cute.” Riven said, casually stopping at the halfway point to throw his scythe away and holding his hands out to either side. “Like little level 1 puppies.”

VHOOM

The air pressure exploded in all directions around him as most of Riven’s mana pool was unloaded in a single go. And although Riven couldn’t access his true mana reserves or full list of abilities, he was intricately aware of how to manipulate his magic to the fullest now. What was once magical waste was condensed and efficient, what was once a lack of coordination with his spells was now perfect mana handling that could control thousands of projectiles at a single time. The act of spellcasting that’d been so clumsy to him once upon a time was now a second nature to his being, like breathing, and it showed in his display.

Two, ten, and then twenty spinning blades of razor-sharp blood bloomed in the air around his outstretched hands like an embrace of death, and with a thought - they all doubled in size. The look of shock on the other cultist’s face was all Riven needed to see before he ended it, and with a laugh - Riven flicked his fingers in the man’s direction.

They split the air in a flash of crimson. Albeit far slower and less powerful than what he was used to, his level 1 enemy counterpart didn’t have the ability or foresight to dodge the attack. Ten razors sliced into his body, cutting down his shadow-beasts and the zombie wolf that tried to intercept along the way. The cultist briefly let out a high pitched scream as his limbs and guts were torn off and out his body in sprays of gore, until his head was decapitated and sent bouncing along the now-wet grass.

Athela just gawked, giving her best impression of a slack-jawed spider while taking in a deep hiss of air. “Whoa… YOU’RE AMAZING!!! Damn I’m good at picking warlocks!”

“You don’t know the half of it, babe.” He winked at the spider, and Athela’s spider form pretended to blush while hiding her arachnid mandibles behind four legs.

“BABE!? We’re of different species, Riven! It won’t work out between us!”

He winked. “Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.”

“How scandalous! HOW KINKY!” She cried, bouncing up and down on the grass before running over to the scattered guts and forming them into a headdress. “I’ll take this as my crown now! Since you did all the work, perhaps you’d like a crown too!? We can be royal siblings that way!”

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Snickering to himself and ignoring the crazy spider, Riven didn’t know what else to do. So, coming over to the decapitated head where the cultist’s eyes were slowly starting to dilate - he pulled back his foot, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and kicked the head like a soccer ball off the nearby cliff’s edge. Peering over and watching it splash into the waves below, he gave a self-satisfied nod.

“As it should be.”

The realm copied from his memories froze in an instant.

[Part 3, 1st Memory’s Choice: Cut out the cultist’s heart and eat it, OR help Athela create a crown of guts. Choose one and proceed to activate your curse and boon.]

The memory unfroze, and he saw Athela scurrying over to gather up the man’s intestines, dancing back and forth and humming to herself as she did. She seemed so happy, and Riven sadly realized that it’d been a while since Athela had seemed so carefree. They’d both grown and changed with one another, but he wanted to see her act like she had in the beginning - back before she’d taken on the responsibility of being his anti-assassin, before she’d seen him become the reincarnation of Gluttony. Back when she’d seemed so much more innocent, and less burdened.

Watching her giddy, chittering laughter as she danced with the guts in her spider-paws and looping it around to wear as a hat, a soft smile crept across his lips - and he began to head over to where she was located.

“Hey… Athela?” He said, kneeling down next to the large spider as she turned to face him.

“Yes master?!” She squealed, giggling to herself while hopping up and down in a semi-macabre jig. “What is it that you want from this prominent princess!?”

He snorted in amusement. Yes, this is the Athela he liked - and the Athela he’d eventually grow to love. He placed a hand on her gruesome flesh hat and patted her a few times, making it more circular to look like a crown or tiara - if you could ever really call it that. “Mind if I spend some time helping you decorate that hat of yours? I’d even like to make one for myself if that’s alright. Maybe we can do it together, yeah?”

Once again, the spider gave him a look of shock. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE!? Of COURSE we can make intestine crowns together! Come, let me show you my artistic ways - and we can sing songs and chant by a sacrificial fire afterwards too! THIS IS GOING TO BE SO MUCH FUN! OH MAH GAWD I CAN’T WAIT TO TELL MOM!”

Grabbing a small bunched up portion of the dead man’s intestines, Riven rolled his eyes and sat cross-legged on the ground - as he began to use Athela’s threats to stitch them together in his best attempt at stacking them in a ring. And within the hour, he and his memory-minion were laughing and joking to their heart’s content while they each wore sloppy, bloody circlets that stank terribly.

But it was the most fun he’d had in a long time. Saving the memory for later to show the real Athela through their mind-link, he was sure she’d have a blast at the somewhat sentimental time he’d spent with her fake-self. And he’d be sure to make more fond memories like it too.

[1st Memory’s Choice: Your soul lattice has gained a boon and a curse based on your actions.

If you’d chosen to eat the man’s heart, you’d have gained his ability ‘Create Shadlowling’ while strengthening your soul lattice with shadow energy; simultaneously gaining the curse of ‘Neglected Minion’ - which would have weakened your soul bond with Athela and her access to Gluttony.

Instead, you have chosen to help Athela create a crown of guts. You and Athela have both gained the linked ability ‘Twin Crowns of Flesh’ (Blood)(Tier 2), which is a position-swapping ability that comes at the cost of 50% health. This ability can be used anywhere, at any time, at any distance, as long as Athela is not banished to the nether realms with a temporary death. Your soul link with Athela has drastically improved in strength, and your soul lattice will reflect this. You have also acquired the curse of ‘Famished’ for not eating the heart - which increases your gluttonous and vampiric hunger twofold. You will need to feed twice as often from here on out, and will experience debuffs that are twice as bad if you aren’t regularly fed.]