Biracial Edgelord Can't Make Immortal : Power of Ten, Book Seven

Transparent souls dancing with vivus and Banefire were now crawling on the Soul Eater, and it was shrieking, trying to shake them off as they pulled at its flesh and it Burned at their touch, its hide parting as they reached in and hauled out more of the trapped souls within.

Third stroke, across the head, splitting the mouth, turning hideous shrieks and curses into a confused gargle as the Soul Eater froze, staring at the sollux in disbelief.

It could not have died so quickly, could it? It was swollen and mighty, at the top of its power!

Crushing Blows, -5 to hit, add your Level to your damage. An advanced combat tactic for accomplished warriors. In Brother Tunnex’s case, +13. He didn’t even have a working penalty between the spells on his Sword and Divine Favor.

He hadn’t missed once, and those hits had really, really hurt.

Just for finality’s sake, Brother Tunnex spun his Blade around in a building flourish, bringing it back and up and over, hacking down in a blazing, burning arc of gildensteel and tricolor flames. He split open the Soul Eater’s body and fairly launched dozens of consumed souls from it on wings of vivus, streaming up and away joyfully to their final destinations.

“Ha ha!” he laughed, arms spreading wide as he watched the souls streaming out and away to their proper fates, limned in vivus that was hurrying them on their way even as it was absolutely devouring the essence of the Soul Eater itself.

I just nodded at the show, hauled back Dread, and cast Mighty Wallop, up-Cast to Greater Mighty Wallop with a III Valence.

My base damage with my Staff was d8+5. Greater Mighty Wallop limned Dread in resonating force images, suddenly looking five times thicker, with shadows of a skeletal giant behind me, the black star sapphire tipping it now bigger than my head and reverberating to beat the band.

Each iteration increased the effective size of my Staff for base damage. Every two size increases doubled the damage. Medium to Large to Huge to Gargantuan to Colossal in size meant x4 base damage, Dread hitting like a staff wielded by a Titan.

The field of anti-magic around this soul-eating thing didn’t work, and it couldn’t sense my presence since my soul was born in the future. It would have sucked the life out of any normal person, but instead my Staff crashed into it like a wrecking ball at the perfect angle.

The BONG of impact was deafening, filling the whole cavern and overcoming the roar of the furnace-like pit and the rumbling bubbling of the lava below. The heavy Cauldron, large and heavy enough that it would likely have required at least two efreet to move easily, was smashed over the side of the unnaturally long pillar and into a tumbling freefall towards the molten rock below.

The thing had Immortal Power in it, just like Dread did. Without any shame whatsoever, I linked to it in the moment of contact. As the thing they were calling the Pit of Souls hit the lava, magical and prophetic utterances rebounded, and it began to spontaneously unmake itself, as Artifacts are wont to do when the conditions of their destruction are met.

That naturally meant a rush of unleashed Immortal energy. However, instead of letting the energy generate what would likely be a cataclysmic explosion if it infiltrated the lava pool below, no doubt a sly back-up plan by Gulguz, I siphoned that power away and into Dread instead as the instrument of its destruction.

I’d had a lot of time to work on Dread, rewiring and reinforcing the Runecraft and material of it over and over, while stuck in the Thisbean Inn for all those years after that renegade Immortal visited. There were a lot of things to be discovered about Immortal Power, and everything that hadn’t soaked into the Inn itself had gone into Dread.

Which wasn’t much then, but this Power, already sacrificed into an Artifact being created, each point bound by consuming a human soul or ten, was eminently ready to be stolen and used in some other way.

Dread was totally happy to take the power in, too. It had been waiting quite some time for something like this to happen. I knew we were going to be getting mixed up into Immortal business, and I needed an edge to act against them. All the Karma gained from destroying an item of utter malevolence like this was going to go into binding that Power and making it available to me to use with my own magic.

Immortal magic very specifically was not subject to the mortal limits imposed on us, like, oh, a Caster Level of 36, or the maximum damage dice of 20 per spell. I could and had played games with the former, as Spell Power was not the same thing as Caster Level, but the damage cap was an absolute.

Attach Immortal Power to a spell, and that was no longer the case.

It was also wildly abusive, would be noticed by mortal spellcasters and Immortals alike, and I’d best not do it without really good reasons and hopefully no witnesses around. Immortals weren’t supposed to be using that kind of stuff on the mortal plane, and would be tracked down and punished by their fellows for doing so.

Stolen story; please report.

A mortal wielding a free-form Artifact with no drawbacks? They’d come down on me like a load of bricks.

Dread was plenty happy, however.

The only thing the Immortal Power allowed me currently was to break the mortal restrictions if I spent it with Valences. That would be very nice in isolated cases, but the best use was going to be acting against the Immortals themselves!

All the tales I’d read, and Zanzyrans were big on looking into the weaknesses of the Immortals they both did not want to obey and desperately wanted to be one of, said Immortals were supposedly immune to mortal magic.

Bane of Legends made sure that was not true of MY magic, but Immortal Power attached to the magic would also satisfy the requirement, and was much more useful and versatile.

Immortal Power to Greater Magical Weapon and the equivalents would do the job just fine, thank you…

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Brother Tunnex had followed the descent of the Cauldron down, and was bracing for a reaction from the lava pool below. When there wasn’t one, he breathed a sigh of relief.

I drifted in over the extended walkway from the side of the pit, magnificently unperturbed by everything. I turned my eyes on the dead humans, and especially the glow of magic left behind as their bodies were falling to white dust not quite as quickly as the Soul Eater, but rapidly enough regardless.

“We loot this place clean, and then I’m going to render this inactive volcano a lot more active,” I informed Brother Tunnex evenly, and his eyes lit up with interest.

“Lead on, Lady Edge, and I shall see that none disturb you in your scouring!”

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The defenders were not in the best mental shape as they piled into the forgeroom, and were cut down without mercy. I took their lives as they’d taken those of their slaves, looted what was useful, piled it on Disks, and blew out their elevator shaft so that we might exit the ‘proper’ way.

The guards upstairs did not last long, my initial barrage of Barbs accentuated by Tunnex’s Sword reaping them in grandly flourishing style. Funf’s TK tripped the counterweight levers for the doors, and we proceeded outside.

I was a bit surprised to find that the slaves had not actually all fled yet. Instead, they were gathered in the camp before the gates, dressed in scavenged clothing and armor, tensed and ready to make sure none of the Khifiri managed to escape from inside Mon Burromos. Instead of letting go their arrows and charging us with swords, they set up a great cheer when they saw us exiting… with more Disks holding everything within that might be useful to them behind me.

Brother Tunnex basked in their adulation, but was an impressive enough figure that he wasn’t swamped, and there was no way they were going to gather to me. Instead, they hastily made way for us as we left the place.

“Brother Tunnex, are you going to stay a time in the mortal realm?” I inquired of him.

He eyed me with some consideration. “My task had no proper time limit, Lady Edge. What would you have me do?”

“The servants of the Immortal Gulguz doubtless employ more efreet, and are perversions of the Fire at best. If you like, you can assist me in slaughtering as many of them as possible, possibly by leading an army or force of rebels.” I inclined my head at the men and women surrounding us excitedly, waiting for us to just take control of them as we talked in Pyric.

He didn’t look opposed to the idea. “Glorious battle against foul foes is indeed a great purpose of the Brotherhood of the Sun, Lady Edge,” he acknowledged, his burning yellow eyes studying the ragged, starving horde around him. “I can certainly aid them to the best of my ability during my time here!”

“Excellent.” I switched to Human basic for the Elbers. “I am going to whip up a lot of Disks for you all to use, and you are going to take everything this camp can give you that will fit on them. Start with those tents, food, clothing, supplies, weapons, and armor, especially water, and work from there.

“The forts in the vicinity have also been wiped of life, and all their patrols.” Rather dumbstruck silence greeted me as the former slaves grasped just how much I had done for them. “I need a leader among you who can read.” I looked them over, watched the heads turn, and a wiry, lean middle-aged fellow who held himself with the posture of a commander stepped forward from the group.

“Lady Edge, I’m Oskar Velient, once of Moonraven. What do you want of us?” he asked in a rough yet cultured voice.

“I want you to read this.” I flipped up a Holo of two sentences. The man blinked, focusing on them quickly.

“Yes, m’lady. I Wish that all of us former slaves here would be as rested and restored as if we’d had good meals and bed rest for a week,” he read off slowly.

I held up a finger, and the Ur-power I’d stolen from one of the efreet kicked off. Genie Wishes could only be granted to weak and puling mortals, as it were. “Granted.”

There was a hiss of power all around, the freed slaves all staggering and shouting as healing and restorative power flowed through them. They all put on at least ten pounds instantly, the starving edge to their eyes and faces went away, and while some of them fell down, they got right back up again with new energy.

Brother Tunnex, clearly able to feel the Wishcrafting and stolen genie energy behind it, stared at me in astonishment.

“Next one, Master Velient,” I told him, unruffled by the excited shouts rising all around us.

“Yes, My Lady!” he almost shouted, focusing. “I Wish that all of us slaves be Regenerated back to our ideal physical states!” he read excitedly.

“Granted,” I nodded to his excited face again.

This was more subtle and diffuse, crinkling in the bones and the blood. It wasn’t just lost fingers, toes, eyes, and ears. It was wrongly-set bones, missing teeth, weakness from disease, torn muscles, arthritis, sprains, and poor posture, ravaged guts, and open wounds from injuries. All of them and everything began to heal towards an ideal state, with some folk who’d lost teeth years ago shouting as new pearly whites pushed themselves up out of ravaged gums and filled their mouths anew with what was basically Mass Regeneration!

“Get to the looting!” I swirled out the Mass Disks I’d already brought up, and another hundred floating Disks of black force edged in skulls and roses appeared around everyone. “Tents! Food! Water! Clothing! Tools! Weapons! Armor! And someone take charge of those horses! Get moving, all of you!” I waved my arm, and the whole crowd began to break up as those with some authority started bawling out orders, and careful pushing of the Disks revealed they moved easily and freely.