The Apprentice of Ouroboros [Monster Evo LitRPG Adventure]

Neska held her sides as she finished the second set, her lungs on fire. Her fingers were numb again. More importantly, she'd demonstrated that her [Witchery] passive was absurdly powerful, and she needed to lean into it more. Right now, simple hexes were taking all her effort.

What other options did this open up? She had many hexes that remained untapped. How many could combine with alchemical or other effects? Would certain materials better channel her abilities into the arrows?

“Neska. Hey.”

Hadley rested a hand on her shoulder, looking at her quizzically. “You okay? You know it's just us out here. You don’t have to push so hard.”

“I suppose not.” Neska took another drink from the water skin, pondering how to answer.

Did anyone need to know the increasing worry she had about her own power? Everything felt off ever since the Hive. Her abilities seemed stronger, more precise, easier to initiate. She couldn't account for this jump in raw power from just levels alone. Those had been incremental. This was a spike in power vastly out of step with what came before.

More concerning was Juni's candid point from a few days ago. She was distracting herself with work and research to mask those worries, or her growing anger at the monster hellbent on erasing humanity. It was easier to hate them, easier to want to do horrible things to them. Only one thing tipped the balance back with one profound conclusion.

The Varadur were little more than pawns, sacrificial pieces directed by a malicious mind. She would even go so far as to conjecture they had been forcibly conscripted, mentally compelled to fight.

The dying queen had ended her life on her own terms. That had to mean something. “Alright, Neska, I think something has you worried. Hard to pinpoint what, though. There were a lot of horrors in that instance.”

Neska let out a snort. "Where do I start? Parasitic wasps that turned goblins into bomb charging suicide units? The slow conversion of reality into some twisted hive? The Instance Core?"

"You. You're worried that you're going to be the doom of all of us. I heard him call you a Devourer of Worlds."

So everyone had heard every bit of that discussion. She figured as much. "But I'm not. And I don't want to be. Not ever. But what if..." she trailed off. "What if it's an inevitability? What if Ouroboros has consumed the world? Or at least wiped out vast portions of it, leaving few survivors and setting back technology and civilization hundreds of years each time?"

"It's myth, Neska. You're taking the word of a madman who wants to hurt you and punish you for daring to stand up to him. All because you vowed to tear down his system of control, one Varadur at a time. That's not like you. It's not logical."

Was Hadley calling her out? That was surprising. "Hadley, if you had the choice, and I was going to become a monster, no matter what I did to prevent it..."

"No." Hadley stood firm in her words and set down her bow before reaching over to hug Neska. "He only wants you to think that. He's trying to get in your head when all his other efforts failed. Think of how far you've come in a short time. He knows the only thing stopping you is doubt in yourself."

Hadley clung ever tighter. She might make a good lamia someday. "I am not losing my friends to prophecy, or madmen with god complexes. We have control over our own fates, Neska. No one else."

She let go, and Neska shied away. That had been slightly unexpected. And, maybe, Hadley was right. "Still though...it might not be a bad idea to find more substance to the myths of Ouroboros. That ominous title of mine isn't looking less benign yet."

“Neska.” Her eyes conveyed a somber mood. “They're not all going to be like that. The Varadur, I mean."

“In what way?”

“The hive queen, wanting to be free? I think she's an exception, not the norm. I think many of the Varadur enjoy the destruction of humanity, and default to violence at every turn. I don't pretend to know what is happening to you, or if you even know yourself.”

Hadley let out a resigned sigh. “This thing you did, getting the Queen to resist the corruptive influence? I think it was a fluke. Don't die trying to save them. Because I can guarantee you won't be able to save them all. There's a lot of people--myself included--who value you being alive."

“Hadley? We don't have the convenience of easy tasks. If we could turn the corruption off, and give the Varadur a chance to put their future in their own hands? That is still far better than the assured outcome at the hands of the Radiant King, which is we either kill them, or they kill us.” Neska pondered, for once, if her own logic was in the wrong. Was she putting her life at risk for the right reasons? For the right outcomes, even?

The archer pinched the bridge of her nose. Neska didn’t remember it being slightly crooked before. Hadley did indeed fight rough at times. Then, she spoke. “Do they, the Varadur collective, even know how to function as a society, in the corner-point case that they may have an alternate fate other than being annihilated by us?” she asked.

“Given that some are drawn from sapient monster classes, then, yes.”

“Okay. Alright. Suppose you did have the power to change them, Neska, through whatever odd power you have. Would they be slaves to your will, or would they have true autonomy? Could we ever live in peace with them? Could they form a functioning society as we’ve seen without an iron boot stomping on their back in the form of a madman with godlike powers?”

Neska shook her head. “We won't know unless we try. The goblins are already capable of organizing themselves, if somewhat poorly. The same goes with kobolds and others. I truly believe that there is a different future for them. If we can make allies out of them, then it might be worth the risk.”

Hadley sighed reluctantly. “Well, I guess you are taking my advice to mind, controlling your fate and all. But, Neska? You're forgetting one important factor. People may not want to make alliances with them, even if the option were available. You are talking about twenty years of destruction. People knowing nothing but ripping maws, slashing claws, and the insatiable hunger of these monsters. That is a hard thing to look over after this long.”

“We can debate the next step if we can prove it conceptually can be done.” She couldn't believe that Hadley was being so skeptical of this. "Or is it because you hate them so much you can't entertain the possibility that some of them don't want to fight us?”

“Don't even bring it up. I know what you're going to say.” Hadley rubbed her arm as she locked eyes with Neska. "You're wondering if I would ever make peace with Felix as if we could somehow fix him. He is so irreparably broken and unrepentantly evil that there is no good outcome for him. Even if you somehow managed to break the control over somebody like him? I would still kill him. He has to answer for what he's done.”

“And what do you prefer more? Punishing somebody beyond redemption, or ending a monster's torment?”

Hadley did not answer, scuffing her boot in the grass after thinking about Neska’s pointed question. "Still, though. You really think you could pull it off?”

“That's what I aim to find out. Although option 'A' still needs all the help I can get,” Neska added as she fired a magically charged arrow dead-center into one of the targets, knocking it over.

“Is it even documented within your interface?”

“I think I have my hint. [Chain Breaker]. It's a title with no description. Which means I have to explore my powers or trigger a certain set of circumstances to find out what, exactly, it is.”

They soon wrapped up, but she was left with the uneasy feeling that Hadley did not agree with this course of action. “You really believe the only option is to kill them all? Will that make us any better than them if we chase them down in their burrows, killing them until every last one is gone?”

“Probably.” Hadley sounded noncommittal. Maybe she had nudged her perception, just a little.

“What about killing their young? You think you could shoot every one of them down where they stood, cowering and defenseless? Because that's the only way to finish the job, doing it that way.”

Hadley gave her a resigned sigh. "After all I've seen, between them and what you're capable of?" She bit her lip gently. "I...don't think I could. Not unless every other measure had been exhausted. But as long as one person is asking and fighting for a better way? If there's anyone that can avoid that outcome, it might be you, and a lot of other people inside these walls who could make that happen."

---

Neska drew more than a few annoyed comments for leaving early without the rest of them to train. After a quick breakfast, they decided to divide and conquer. Neska and Juni, along with Trevor, headed to the archives and attached library, while Brent and Syra would meet up with Jurik and Hadley to begin scouting out the tunnels from the cliff.

Syrona was reluctant to leave the wolfling, having decided he was the best source of snugs. “You're only getting away with using me as a nap spot because you're too cute to disturb,” Brent said teasingly. “Shoo shoo, your witch needs you.”

The coatyl refused to budge, coiling snugly against his arm. "Hey, Neska, what's up with this? I thought coatyls were shy.”

“She is as weird as her companion,” Syra chuckled as they departed toward their respective tasks. The familiar relented and slithered back to Neska after fussing with Brent's fur.

Now it was just Trevor, Juni, and her. “You ever think what she’ll evolve into?” Juni asked as the large archives structure came into view.

“Something bigger and fluffier maybe?”

“Hopefully she will be less of a pit of a stomach,” Trevor grumbled. “She stole my eggs.”

Neska let out a hissing chuckle. “She likes you.”

The library was quiet at this time of day, owing to it being a weekend, and still early. A few students milled about, and Neska drew in that inviting scent of crisp paper and the slight musky scent of older tomes tucked away. It felt like a familiar and inviting scent.

Rowana, the chief librarian, greeted them at the main desk, a mug of coffee sitting on the counter. “Greetings, you three. Surprised to see you in the library given what I heard of what happened up near Arcesti Hills. Aren't you three supposed to be on mandatory rest?”

“It's overrated,” Neska shrugged. “I need the records of the Awakened from the earliest years of the Battle against the Varadur.”

“Any in particular?”

“Markus. Risha's first Awakened.”

Rowana froze mid-sip of her coffee, the mug hovering by her mouth for several seconds. Then she set the mug down gently, looking perturbed.

“Why?”

“To understand why, indeed.” Neska didn't understand this reaction. Shouldn't records of this kind be a normal inquiry?

“If you asked for any other Awakened, I could provide them to you. But the First Awakened is heavily restricted to all but key Academy personnel and officers of the Valosian military.”

Neska's tail tensed. “Why?”

“Because it also contains Risha's raw notes on the process of Awakening, various magical surveys and diagnostics, and other mental and physical profiling. I don't think I need to spell out that this is considered highly sensitive information, and that protecting the process of Awakening has been a closely kept secret. We don't want the Varadur to have this kind of information.”

Juni stood to her full height—which wasn't much— and squinted at Rowana. “Why would this be considered a military secret? You think the Varadur care much about this process?”

The librarian sighed. “I was told early during my tenure that certain select records are considered critical in terms of protecting information. The Varadur may use this knowledge to harm the Awakened or protect their young from the process. Or,” she added with a click of her tongue, “to ensure that, following the war, no one else has this knowledge.”

Juni threw up her hands, whiskers tensed. “Protect it from who? Arivol is in ruins, Juiksen might as well be Valos with different colored banners, and there are no other major nations with the technology and finesse to replicate the efforts that aren't an ocean away!”

“Juni. It is the power to cheat death, what we've done. Something Arivol, and its late ruler, tried for years to achieve.” The librarian's tone grew softer. “I feel for every student that has ever entered the Academy. Valos is far better than most nations. But in the hands of adversaries…it is a terrifying power to behold. I would hope that at the end of the war, no more are ever made, if only to not create a generation of young people traumatized permanently by war.”

Juni folded her paws together. “Okay, I get that. What about his service record? Missions, reports of his years active?”

Rowana straightened, looking more confident. “Those are probably easier to find. Mission reports are kept separate.”

She guided them to the third floor, where the smell of aged paper and mothballs seemed stronger. Rowana passed several rows before settling on one, then thumbed through several journals. “Mission reports are here. Several copies exist, so it's not regulated. Many are used for lessons in tactical combat deployment or notes on new Varadur species.”

She removed a few journals of typed information. “Try these. You could also inquire with others who knew Markus.”

“Did you know him?” Neska asked.

“No. I started…maybe nine years ago? I recall there was a marker by the memorial dedicated to the first Awakened and other students who have laid down their lives for this institution.” Neska took the stack of records and motioned for Trevor and Juni to follow her to a table in a large commons area.

None of those morphing chairs here to accommodate her snakey form. What a shame. She coiled up by the edge of the table, while Juni and Trevor grabbed chairs, each taking a record.

What Neska learned was troubling. Markus was classed as a snake species, became a lamia…then stalled out as a naga subspecies with a shadow affinity. The reports detailed his team's efforts with very few field trials in the first five years.

That was a long time to be out of combat. She surmised this was before they accelerated the teaching schedule due to the changing tides of the war. After browsing for a few minutes, she found academic records tied to his training missions.

He specialized in stealth abilities and durability evolutions. Not surprising, given her prior encounter. When he gained his lamia form, he forewent his natural claws and fangs and began using martial weapons—specifically, daggers.

She rubbed her shoulder reflexively. Those knives hurt. She wondered if he had a dimensional satchel to carry so many, or if he had a [Dimensional Stomach] like hers.

More reports from field missions. He was aggressive and poisoned his teammates accidentally on two separate occasions, one of them in serious condition in a case of friendly fire. An ability she recognized: [Venom Spray]. She had her spitting venom, and this was a straight upgrade for an additional essence point. Given her other abilities and her alchemical powers, she wasn't prioritizing it. But to accidentally hurt your teammates, she couldn't fathom it.

If anything, she'd hesitate to catch her friends in the line of fire.

“This guy had issues.” Juni slid a record book in front of Neska. “More incidents of teammates getting injured. One died. He may have killed a lot of Varadur, but he didn't give a damn about who else was in harm's way. It looks like he weaponized his venoms, like you.”

“Except he didn't have [Alchemical Imbuement]. All the power usage indicates natural toxins and lamia-specific evolutions, not the specific effects I can use,” Neska pointed out. She even saw references to magitech devices he’d used to distribute the venom in aerosol forms.

She could do less with the stories of effective acidic burns neutralizing Varadur of various species. The reports held little back, and noted vulnerabilities and resistances. She hoped to find schematics for these devices. More puzzling was why they weren’t standard fare within the military, or in the Academy, if they were so effective?

Trevor closed one journal in a blur of motion, puffing and looking pale. “Holy hells. I think Markus was insane.”

Juni and Neska both raised a brow. “Could you elaborate?” Juni asked, waving a hand for him to continue.

Trevor shoved the book toward them, raising his hands away from it. “Just read it.”

Neska did, and wished she hadn’t. Markus had finally breached a level of destruction even the military and the academy could barely stomach. The report contained black-and-white pictographs of hundreds of bodies of various Varadur species. Almost all held their throats and wore terrified, gasping expressions in their last moments, eyes bulging and bleeding, foam forming at their mouths and nostrils. Some also showed massive hemorrhage or dark spots on their skin, scales, and hide.

“Wow. Gas attack. Messy but effective,” she murmured. The signs of asphyxiation were apparent, in addition to the bloodshot and sometimes ruptured blood vessels in the eyes.

"Messy but effective? Neska, this is....an unprecedented sin against the Divines." Juni turned her head away, cringing.

Trevor flipped the page for her when Juni couldn't continue, tamping down on a single photograph. Neska’s tail went on end when she saw the description.

Evaluate necrogenic gas exposure for possible mass production. Attached survey and incident report below.

Neska stared at the unblinking, terror-struck faces of humanoids in their military gear, lying prone on the ground, still in the middle of breakfast in a military dining camp.

Dozens of them.

---