The roar of thunder echoed through the stone cavern, and a bright purple glow briefly lit up the world. A man in dark armour stood with his spear held high, glaring at the abomination in front of him.
A small humanoid figure floated in the air, screeching at him. If not for the bloodied claws and tiny wings, it could be mistaken for a human. Well, if a human were made entirely out of iron, that is.
There were wounds all over his body, deep cuts that bled rust, entire chunks taken out of its tiny body. Even one of its hands was missing.
All around them, the corpses of its stone-like brethren lay strewn about. Nearly a dozen of them had been living in this specific tunnel until they met Lucien. In one day, the hunter had taken out its entire nest. All that was left was to kill the leader.
As lightning roared to life on his spear, Lucien dashed forward at breakneck speed. But the monster was faster; its small size and flight gave it unparalleled agility. Then, something about the world changed, an imperceptible shift in the atmosphere. And a strong gust of wind suddenly blew downwards.
The monster was forced down once again. Disoriented and suppressed, it was powerless to do anything but stare at the sharp end of Lucien's spear.
[You have killed a Fallen Monster, Iron Gargoyle.]
[Your Spirit surges brighter.]
Sensing the storm shard entering his core, Lucien stopped and waited for the onslaught of information about to hit him. The mask, Nightveil, pulsed, and knowledge of the creature flowed into his mind. How it was made, how they moved, and what their weak spot was. All of that information was now his.
Taking a moment to adjust, he looked around himself. A bit far away, his echo had just finished off the last Stone Gargoyle. With the fight over, Lucien recalled his echo so that it could heal its injuries inside his soul core.
Just a few minutes ago, this area had been a small nest of short, humanlike creatures called Stone Gargoyles. Nasty little things made entirely out of stone with small wings sprouting from their back. All of them were Awakened, much to his relief.
For someone who had been fighting awakened monsters ever since he was a sleeper, fighting them as an awakened was almost laughably easy. Still, he couldn't afford to get overconfident in his abilities; there were all kinds of nightmare creatures out there, and even a dormant one could kill him.
Another boon of his awakening was the ability to use his storm essence. His physical prowess had increased explosively as a result. That allowed him to fight even Fallen abominations like the one he had just slain.
Speaking of which. Lucien kneeled down and began harvesting the parts of the creature. The wings in particular could be useful down the line. All of that went to the [Soul Sack], another divine relic left behind by Nether.
It was a tier three memory with two enchantments: [Boundless] and [Confinement].
[Boundless] was simple enough to understand. It just gave the bag an infinite amount of space. While [Confinement] made it so that anything inside could only come out if he wanted it to. Anything, and anyone. Lucien was fairly certain that the Daemon of Destiny would not just store mundane things inside the sack; there had to be something truly harrowing in its depths. While he was curious about it, he was also sure that he would die if he brought them out. So he chose to ignore them.
Lucien sighed and prepared to head back to the junction of tunnels, where the Stone Goliath was waiting for him. This marked the 30th nest he had cleared. One nest a day, slowly bringing up the counter for [Visor of the Underworld].
It had been a whole month since that day, a month since he had awakened and unlocked his Aspect Legacy. Which still evaded him for some godforsaken reason.
A sudden pang of pain distracted him for a moment; warm blood had begun flowing down his calf once more. Lucien cursed under his breath, one of his wounds had opened up again! Ignoring the sting of pain, he continued towards the pedestal. He'd have to stitch it shut once he returned to the citadel.
Lucien looked down, his armour wasn't doing much better either. A spiderweb of cracks spanned the previously flawless surface of the dark stone, deep cuts that had almost cut through the armour itself marred it in multiple locations. Some of it was straight up missing. The helmet, in particular, had been shattered by one of the fallen abominations. It still hadn't gotten the chance to grow back. If it wasn't for the [Living Stone] enchantment, this armour would've been long destroyed.
Once he was back on the pedestal, it didn't take them long to get back to the citadel. Even after reaching the gates, the platform didn't stop. Only when they reached the antechamber did it slow down. That had become a part of their routine, especially so if Lucien was injured. He could not afford to lose too much blood in a place without a healer. He had no one to fall back on except himself.
Inside the room, he brought out a needle from the [Soul Shack] and got to work. Nether's workstation didn't really have any threads for him to use/ Except the strange diamond threads, but Lucien wasn't going to stitch up his wounds using diamonds, that'd be absurd!
So he resorted to using his hair instead.
His hair had grown long enough to the point where he had to keep it tied up, but that also provided him with a usable alternative for a string. Come to think of it, hair was brittle by nature. Maybe that's why his wounds kept reopening…
Ah well, it's not like he had any other options. Threading a hair through the needle, he began the process, wincing as the needle pierced his skin.
A few mumbled curses later, he was done. Sighing, he gazed at his handiwork. An uneven stitch lined his upper leg, the black hair struggling to hold the wound together. It'd have to do.
Taking his mind away from the wound, he moved to the edge of the stone desk. A leatherbound notebook was left open on the desk. Written on it were the runes Lucien had copied from the gateway.
What did he write with? A quill, of course!
Well, it wasn't a normal quill. For one, it was somehow darker than even the Soul Sack; apart from that, it was constantly spilling darkness. It was that darkness that acted as his ink.
Normally, True Darkness was a mist-like gas, not something you'd write with. But for some reason, the darkness flowing out of the quill would turn into liquid when coming in contact with the notebook.
That allowed him to jot down the runes and try to understand them. So far, he had only gotten a vague understanding of one of them. It was the rune for 'travel', at least Lucien thought it was. He had no way to test it out. He suspected that engraving the rune onto something would do the job, but what do you inscribe 'travel' on? It's not like he had a…
Could…could he possibly inscribe it onto his echo?
Should he inscribe it onto his echo?
The Crimson Mantis was a living being, well, at least as living as echoes usually were. What he was suggesting was effectively branding. Should he put another living being through that? Especially when he didn't know what it would do?
In the end, Lucien decided not to brand his echo with the rune for travel. Even if he did etch it onto its red carapace, the echo would repair it soon enough.
Shaking those thoughts out of his head, Lucien gazed at the remaining runes on the notebook. The [Eyes of the Beholder] made it easier for him to understand all forms of sorcery, but that only went so far. He would only get a very vague understanding of the runes, as if an ethereal hand had pushed him towards the general direction of the answer.
But every time the counter went up, he'd be able to understand a little bit more. That was how he had been able to understand the rune for travel. It also helped that he knew what a gateway was used for. Today itself, the counter had gone up by four, two for gazing at the stone and iron gargoyles, and then 2 more for killing them.
As he stared at the runes, a sliver of knowledge slipped into his mind, granting him a bit of insight. But it was not nearly enough to decipher their meaning; it only brought him a step closer.
Well, it wasn't like he was expecting to master sorcery in a day. Putting the book back down, Lucien walked over to his designated meditation spot and sat down. It was time to try to unlock his aspect legacy.
Every day, Lucien would spend an hour or so trying to bend the lightning to his will. Every day, it would get a little bit easier, and the construct would stay for a moment longer. It was a slow process, but he was progressing.
Eventually, he stopped, and the cacophony of thunder stopped with him. As his memory returned to his soul sea, he dove along with it. Something had changed within it after he received his Aspect Legacy.
It was mostly the same, with the same three storm cores hanging in the dark sky. But now, there was something else in the distance. A wall of gargantuan size, so big Lucien couldn't even see where it ended.
With nothing but a thought, he appeared next to the wall. Craning his neck up, Lucien stared at the boundlessness of it all. It was as if he had reached the end of his soul sea; the wall extended upwards infinitely. There was no way to cross it.
The wall itself was made of millions upon millions of pages, most of which were empty. But some had been filled up with murals of humans, nightmare creatures, even mundane items. There were details about the spell, aspect abilities, flaws, and even runic sorcery, although those were severely lacking in detail. He did not know much about those topics after all.
The wall held all the pieces of knowledge Lucien had gained so far, and yet it barely lit up a fraction of it. There was so much more he could learn, so much space left to fill. And every day, more and more pages were being filled. Every time he learned anything, a mural of it would make its way to the wall. And if its size were any indicator, then there was no limit to what he could learn.
Maybe one day he could amass enough knowledge to create something that surpassed even the gods' creations. But that day was very far away. Sighing wistfully, he took one more glance at the wall and left his soul sea.
Usually, he would be heading towards Nether's workstation to inspect the daemons half finished projects, and to work on his own projects.
But today, something else was calling him. It had been calling to him since the first time he entered the citadel, actually, but he could still ignore it back then. Now? Not so much.
Day by day, the call of the statue strengthened, beckoning him closer. It was as if it was tugging at his soul itself, and it was getting harder and harder to ignore that tug. Something within him yearned to accept that call, to touch the onyx statue.
Lucien had been fighting that call for a whole month now, and even he had his limits. A part of him just wanted to give in and get it over with. Another part of him was wary of what it would do to him.
In the end, the first part won.
'Ah to hell with it!'
Against his better judgment, Lucien walked up to the statue and reached out to it. At the same time, the Stone Goliath yelled out in warning:
"No, sto-!"
Lucien never heard the rest of his statement. Because in the next moment, he was somewhere else. In front of him was another statue of the Storm God, completely identical to the one he had touched. But he never saw that. After all, it was difficult to see when you were frozen in time.
Author's Note: You may have noticed that the message he receives upon killing has been changed from [Your Storm roars wilder] to [Your Spirit surges brighter]. I'm afraid that is a retcon. Partly because I grew to dislike the original, partly to give fuel to a theory of mine which will show up in the fic. I will be going back to change the message in every chapter prior, so new readers shouldn't have a problem, but for the rest of you, please bear with me. That's all, see you in a few days with chapter 42. Hopefully it won't take me very long to write it.