(I) Transmission
Chapter 540 of "Path of the Deathless" kicks off revealing secrets: - by Legend-Headmaster Hades Hymn249 (I)Transmission"Wait, ?" Shiv sputtered. He was so flabbergasted he could... Keep reading!
- by Legend-Headmaster Hades Hymn249 (I)
Transmission
"Wait, ?" Shiv sputtered. He was so flabbergasted he could do nothing but stare at Hymn from the doorway. The Headmaster of Phoenix Academy spun on his heel and sauntered back into the chamber he'd just stepped out of. Based on how much he swayed from side to side, Shiv could tell he was more than a little drunk.
"That's your actual name, isn't it?" Hymn said casually. He suddenly blurred and reappeared in a corner of the room about twenty meters away from Shiv, where a tiny table draped in red silk was waiting for him. He collapsed into a rocking chair and picked up a bottle of something brownish that was resting on the table.
As Shiv and Cullywier stepped into the room, the latter stepped forward with apparent familiarity, while the former gawked at the aberrant environment. It was shaped like a facsimile of a homely restroom, but enlarged and stained by corruption. At the far end of the room, a story-tall brickwork fireplace was afire with a roaring blaze more akin to some kind of industrial oven than a calm hearth.
The flames it spat out were of a dark color that made Shiv nauseous to behold, and the rest of the chamber was similarly infested with eldritch influence. The Outsider magic spilled from the fireplace and into the room like smog, staining the air with quivering motes of grayish-black while its bulk rose upward, where it fed into what Shiv could only describe as an inverted ocean.
Serving as the ceiling, oil-thick waves of pure black crashed into each other in a chaotic display, appearing somewhat like a miniature version of what he'd seen of the Grand Pacific when he graced the Tidewall.
The four walls and the floor of the room were veined in slimy, quivering tentacles, sinews that belonged to an Outsider's body. However, wherever Cullywier went, the eldritch corruption receded, unwilling to touch the fae, unwilling to even test his presence.
Shiv noticed the massive eyes briefly blinking out of existence along the walls as he approached Hymn. Something was sneaking peeks at him, something that radiated rage and hatred. Both emotions flowed toward Shiv, and his Sage of the Enkindled Heart danced as if a strong gust of wind was washing over it, yet making its blaze stronger, infusing it with something unnatural, a loathing that was inhuman and human at once.
Then there was the pillar jutting up from the center of the room. As thick as a tree trunk, it extended upward as a pristine, crystalline column that was untouched by the eldritch substance, much like Cullywier was. A series of spell patterns danced along its length, straying with the black static of Dimensionality and the violet of Divination.
As he looked up, watching where the column vanished into the dark ocean, he flinched as the eldritch waters suddenly parted, draining away into a sky of dimensional static.
Unveiled by the seaâs disappearance were four dragons, one gazing down at Shiv from each corner of the room, seated just beyond the borders of physical space and leaning over into the eldritch space. The colossal beasts were all gold-scaled, but what drew Shiv's attention was how they were all fully dressed in human attire, silk adorned with intricate patterns. One wore a monocle and top hat, one wore flowing, colorful robes and held a staff with a jewel at its end in one hand, and another had jewels of incredible brightness scintillating set upon their scaled digits.
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The Deathlessâs shock caused him to briefly miss the fact that he couldnât sense most of their biologiesâand only then did he notice the faint currents of Divination and spatial magic. The dragons werenât actually hereâthey were being projected in from afar using magic, like an illusion.
As Shiv continued his observations, he noticed something else that was different about these dragons. Their torsos were longer and thinner, and instead of thick, curved horns, they had antlers, like something that belonged on a deer's head. More importantly, they appeared to possess no lower limbs. Instead, their bodies became long, serpentine tails below their stomachs, curling behind them and winding through the air.
The fourth looked down upon him, saying nothing but observing him intently. This dragon wore an all-black suit and gave Shiv a masculine impression, but there was something off about himâsomething that told Shiv to beware.
Shiv blinked and nearly jumped out of his flesh when the door behind him suddenly slammed shut.
Cullywier made a show of clearing his throat as he looked up at the dragons while gesturing at Shiv. "Esteemed Brokers, I present to you our promised guest, the Deathless: Shiv of Blackedge."
Meanwhile, Hymn continued loudly chugging his alcohol in his corner of the room, dumping the entire contents of the bottle down his throat in an instant after spinning it in a circle to make it flow out like a drain.
Adam called from within Shiv's cape. The Deathless didn't fully have words. It felt like he was trapped in an ambush, but no one was trying to kill him, which made it a first.
"Welcome," one of the golden dragons said with a crisp, pleasant baritone, lifting his tophat. A waterfall of liquid gold plunged down from the inside of the hat, washing over and melting into the dragonâs body. âI am Poverty, Broker of Scarcity. Your presence enriches my day.â
Shiv felt a sudden and overwhelming urge to give every single valuable he had to the dragon.
Then, the second dragon blew on his staff, and the crystal sphere embedded upon its tip grew bright. âWelcome, Deathless. You may call me Know-Nothing. There is much we can share with one another. Much indeedâŚâ
The Deathless in question struggled against the urge to betray every last secret he knew to Know-Nothingâif only to relieve himself of the burden of secrecy.
The third dragon didnât hesitate to interject. Unlike the other two, his suit was partially torn at the sleeves, and Shiv realized the rings he'd taken note of earlier were part of a greater ensemble: the damned dragon had a series of magical tattoos burned into his immensely muscular arms, and they fed mana into the jewel-crusted knuckle dusters he wore on both hands. âTake off that ridiculous mask,â this dragon spat with a crass tone. âLet me see if youâre as big and vicious-looking as the orcs claim.â
But Shiv didn't do as the knuckle-duster-wielding dragon asked. Not immediately. He cracked his neck and fixed the dragon with an unimpressed stare.
The dragon leaned down and almost snarled. "You think you're tough shit for mingling with them, eh? I got the fucking Challenger on speed dial. So, you gonna show who you actually are, or are you gonna be a chicken-shit?â
An explosion of rage detonated through Shiv's core, more rage than he naturally felt. He instantly realized the dragons were manipulating his emotions, using their social skills, even across vast distances, but rage wasn't his undoing. It was a resource he could wield.
Shiv scoffed. "Yeah, not doing anything for free. You guys are the Dragon Brokers, and you wanted this talk. So, make it worth my time. I don't give a shit about what you feel or what you say to me. I'm here to do business. I'm guessing that's the same reason why you're here as well."
Instead of taking offense, the knuckle-duster-wearing dragon threw his head back and laughed. âOkay, the orcs claimed you were a real bruiser, a brawler, and a butcher. But it seems you're a bit more than that too. You just shrugged off my Provocation skill.â The dragon bared his teeth. âThe anger is still inside you; I can smell it. It's like a stinking carcass left out beneath the summer sun, in there for you to wield in some way. Let me guess: Zen Berserker? Rider of the Inner Rage?â
Shiv's anger still didn't climb. He folded his arms and sneered. "Maybe something like that."
"That's cute," the dragon said, leaning back. "You can call me Yellowbelly, by the way."
"Yellowbelly, huh?" Shiv said. "Let guess, you like sleeping with your gut in a puddle of piss?" He channeled a burst. The flames of black anger shot toward the ceiling. They splashed apart against the dimensional window, and he realized his social skills couldn't reach them. But it wasn't because there wasn't a portal for social skills. Instead, it was because there were wards. The Dimensionality and Divination mana circulating across the glass shivered and then hardened in response to his jab.
Yellowbelly stared, and then he erupted with laughter, slamming his hand on an armrest that Shiv couldn't see. When he caught himself, he waved at Shiv. "Alright, alright, I see why the Challenger finds you interesting. But you do that again, and I might have to get bloody with you."
âYou say that like it's something to be afraid of,â Shiv replied as innocently as he could. He and the dragon stared each other down until Hymn loudly cleared his throat.
"Hey, if you two are going to get into a silly monster-brawl, can you wait until the important stuff is done? I still haven't gone pissing.â
Shiv wanted to say something, but he choked as he suddenly found himself faced with Hymnâs bare ass. The Headmaster had pulled his pants completely down and was now trying to douse the eldritch fireplace.
Adam cried aloud, groaning in disgust.
âAdam,â Shiv began, unsure how he was going to explain all this. His words came too late. The Gate Lord stumbled out from Shivâs cape, only to find himself staring at Hymnâs hairy posteriorâbefore nearly shrieking at all the dragons glaring down at him.
"Ah, Young Lord Arrow. Still with us, I see." Know-Nothing rubbed the top of his staff, and the Divination mana within the crystal sphere grew blindingly bright, like a violet sun looming in the sky. "I am glad the Starhawk's favored bloodline still has insurance, even if we are to lose Roland Arrow."
âHello, Arrow,â Hymn said, waving at Adam without turning around. âGlad you finally bothered to come out. And that you donât find that coliseum too miserable to stay in.â
The final dragon said nothing. Shiv noticed how their eyes were like white marbles and guessed that they were blind. There was also a horrific patch of scarification running along the length of their long snout, like acid stains or something of the sort.
"The one who won't talk is called Garrulous," Yellowbelly declared. "He is the Broker who handles matters of diplomacy and casts a tie-breaking vote between the rest of us. We are the Inner Cadre of the Brokerage. We are the Eldest, we are the first, we are the shareholders with the most stake in this enterprise. And you, my little anomaly, born of our good friend Udraalâs hand, are a match cast upon a straw mountain drenched in napalm."