Priam

Chapter 454: The Patron’s Promise

Added 2026-01-20 09:24:37 +0000 UTC

First chap!

PS: Priam Character Sheet
PSS: Discord to say hello and discuss the chappies!

Congratulations, you are dead! Your Talent [He Who Eludes Death] brings you back to life once a day.

Number of deaths: 50

Message from your Patron:
Freedom has a price.
Fifty rebirths; the succession begins.
Seven Talents will become one again.

Then, the Concepts will pay for my freedom.

Warning

Major modification of your Fate detected.
System’s firewall bypassed.
Order’s heavenly Laws broken.
Concept contacted for correction…

Request denied.

Message from Administrator Thaal:
It was bound to happen eventually. Honestly, I’m surprised it took you this long to hit fifty deaths.
Anyway, I dug through the System logs and found nothing. Zero. Nada. I’d bet Luc’s head that another chosen of your Patron is waiting for you on Mageia—the universe my boss is infecting like a virus.
We’ll talk about it after your Reunion. Get ready. I’d rather not lose the muse of 2die4.

But since one can never be too careful, I’d appreciate it if you signed the following form. Just in case.
Your friend and idol,
Thaal

Attachment: Post-mortem spiritual cloning authorization.

Synergy detected with your talent [Homo Elysian Obsession], your Titles [Four-Headed Hydra] and [Life is Hard; I’m Harder], and the fourth Merit of [Iconoclast]. Your body and spirit are rebuilt and will be more resistant to what killed them:

… Attribute potential redirected to skills per user request.

Lvl Up: [Gravity Resistance] lvl 29, 30, 31
CONST +9

Several kilometers beneath the ocean’s surface, the water parted, allowing the Juggernaut to be reborn. Priam opened his eyes, confirmed that the Terrors were gone, and dove to recover what remained of the spider crab he had just slain.

As he swam, he reread his notifications. The war of succession had begun. Despite everything he had endured, it filled him with a quiet dread. Against the other chosen of his Patron, [He Who Eludes Death] would no longer be the trump card it had always been.

As for Thaal’s message, it made him smile… and wonder.

Who is Luc?

Dragging a corpse the size of ten whales for nearly a hundred kilometers was no small feat. Not because of its mass—underwater, buoyancy helped with that—but because of the blood. The fluid attracted all manner of curious or starving creatures, and there were much of it. First because Priam had torn the beast’s head off, and also because the Terrors had taken advantage of his death to feast on their sister. Dragons practiced cannibalism without remorse, and half of the spider crab’s legs were missing.

As a result, Priam spent the return trip using [Kinetic Sovereignty] to massacre absurd quantities of marine scavengers. Good training to identify the resonant frequencies of different fish, crustaceans, and amphibians.

When the Terror’s belly scraped the seabed while its back broke the surface, Priam realized he had reached the shallow waters of Oasis-Valaryth Bay. Dragging the gigantic corpse onto the shore, he collapsed onto the ground, exhausted by the magical strain and suffering burns along his overheated pathways.

Lvl Up: [Adaptive Golden Meridians] lvl 42
META (Focus) +3
META (Endurance) +6

The vibrations in the sand—and a mismatched pair of feet, one flesh, one metal—made him look up. Arms crossed, equipped with Knightmare’s leg, Kazuki was staring out toward the ocean.

“The days when our presence was secret are over.”

Priam turned his head and grimaced. A trail of floating bodies connected the beach to the horizon. His kinetic skill’s destructive waves were to blame. As if he had been fishing with explosives, an enormous quantity of dead fish had risen to the surface. No need to be Tom Thumb to follow that highway leading straight from the Terror’s lair to their outpost.

“The currents will move the bodies and blur the trail soon,” Priam said once he caught his breath. “If we’re lucky, no one noticed.”

“Luck is a fickle lover,” Kazuki replied. He turned as a thicket rustled. “Speaking of lovers…”

A woman’s voice rose from behind the bushes.

“Relax. My instincts would’ve warned me if something was wrong.” A shadow pushed aside a branch, and Jasmine appeared. Barefoot, the assassin spotted Priam. “See? No reason to panic,” she grumbled before hopping over to the Juggernaut. “The carcass behind you—is it what I think it is?”

“One less Terror,” Priam smiled, accepting a high five from his shadow.

“Nice!” Jasmine exclaimed, then pointed behind her. “The new girl’s stressed. I don’t think fighting is her thing.”

Esmée stepped forward and bowed. “I am ashamed.”

“No need,” Priam reassured her, helping her straighten up with his kinetic skill. “There was nothing you could do.”

“Indeed.”

Priam winced. “I didn’t mean you were useless.”

“But you were,” taunted Jasmine.

“I wasn’t any better.”

Esmée shook her head. “You protected me.”

“This discussion is sterile. If you consider yourselves weak, become stronger,” Kazuki cut in, gesturing at the carcass. “I assume this beast isn’t what gave you trouble?”

“I destroyed it,” Priam confirmed. “But it called its whole family to gang up on me. Things were fine until the second Terror started using gravity magic.”

Esmée looked away. “Priam was swallowed by a pseudo-singularity.”

“He’s hard to kill,” Jasmine said proudly.

Priam puffed out his chest.

“Once,” the princess corrected. “But while busy eating its sister, the second Terror didn’t leave. I had to fake the distress cry of another to lure it away from where you disappeared.”

Everyone grimaced.

“I owe you one,” Priam said, then changed the subject. “Anyway, ‘disappeared’ is too generous. That bastard turned me into paste.”

“If it were a black hole, spaghettification would have crushed then stretched you,” Kazuki commented. “You were closer to a sausage than paste.”

Seeing Esmée pale, Priam laughed. “Hey, it’s fine. Between you and me, I enjoy getting torn apart from time to time. Kind of a factory reset.” He winked. “But I don’t think it was a real singularity. [Space Resistance] would’ve leveled up.”

“Paste, sausage… We’re talking a lot about food and not enough about the fish we still need to fry,” Jasmine said. “Do you think you can keep hunting Terrors solo, or do we come with you next time?”

“As the second Terror destroyed me, I vote for a training regimen before going for another swim,” the Juggernaut called. “I could’ve lasted a minute longer, but I didn’t want to burn my cards before our real fight.”

Kazuki frowned. “Is the gap that vast?”

Priam nodded. “If I compare it to the Colosseum, it’s around Aarthash’s level. With one more Tier under its belt.”

“Not just any Prince, but a high Prince?” the shadow suggested.

“More like a medium one.”

“A harsh judgment for a draconic, century-old beast spawned by an Immortal,” Kazuki said.

“The Prince rank is broad,” Esmée murmured, still contrite.

Priam agreed. “I don’t even know if I’d classify my mentor as a high Prince.”

“Undefeated for five thousand years,” the hoplite reminded him.

“In a frankly pathetic Sector. In Elysium, it’d be different. Imagine Arnold or Dishnu with the resources of an Immortal clan and twenty years of training while ignoring their High Tribulations. Those would be high Princes.”

Why twenty years and not two centuries? In Priam’s view, it was unlikely an Ace would chase the limits of a Tier instead of the Zenith. Anyone capable of coveting the Colosseum’s final waves could also reach Tier 5, but a Demiurge commanded more respect than the best Tier 1 gladiator.

“High Princes? They would be Kings,” Jasmine grumbled.

Priam shrugged and glanced toward the ocean. “I don’t know. I’ve only met one Monarch, and I have trouble judging the distance between us.”

“About a hundred kilometers.”

“Smartass.”

“You meant nice ass,” the young woman said, striking a pose.

A fortunate roar saved Priam from answering. The forest shook, trees bowing as something massive and fast approached. Then, the treeline exploded outward, revealing a towering, furred colossus.

At the sight of canines as long as tibias, Priam smiled.

“Hey—”

Blueberry didn’t stop to greet his friends. Crowned with a sphinx, he plunged into the open carcass of the Terror, screaming with joy and hunger.

“…” Once the surprise passed, Priam growled. “That was supposed to be our dinner.”

“I’d rather eat dirt,” Kazuki muttered.

“Yeah.” Louder. “Blueberry, the heart is MINE!”

Calmed by his brush with definitive death, Priam put his Terror hunt on hold. After a few hours spent eating, talking, and sleeping, he quickly found himself idle. In a hostile world where he had neither leisure, work, nor studies, only training remained. Priam embraced it wholeheartedly.

Wave 95 was not going to clear itself.

On the first day, with Micro active to ignore pain, he spent several hours with his hand buried in the flames of Blueberry’s kitchen. Exactly zero level-ups later, Priam realized that even bathing in the fire, the flames were not hot enough to seriously damage him—let alone immolate him. His high Constitution outpaced his adaptation.

That was the moment Priam understood he would need to get creative if he wanted to torture his body.

“Alright, campfire flames aren’t enough to affect you anymore. That still doesn’t explain why we’re all here,” Jasmine remarked, sipping Log-a-rhythm sap in Priam’s room.

“Well, I was thinking this is an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. If my progression is tied to the diversity and depth of the punishments I endure, then why not engineer those torments?”

“You want to build the trials that will destroy your body,” Esmée understood.

“Yep. I’ve reached the point where mindless repetition no longer advances my resistances. I need your help brainstorming exotic and efficient ways to torture myself.”

Priam prided himself on his ability to think outside the box, but he was not arrogant enough to believe no one could have better ideas than his own.

“What’s in it for us?” Blueberry grumbled. “Not that I don’t want to help, but my Tribulations are coming up, and scratching my balls won’t help me survive them. Sorry I’m not some Champion-level prodigy; I need to train. Or to eat to ignore death’s shadow.”

Leaning against a wall with the poise of a mysterious samurai, Kazuki spoke. “Helping Priam equals testing our attacks. We need to hit someone, and he needs to be hit. A good match.”

“Mmh. Makes sense. Where do we start?”

“[Pyro Champion Physique],” Priam proposed. “I have to defeat my mentor’s phantom, and he handles flames better than I do. And I’m thinking of tempering my Energy Gate soon, so…”

“A legendary skill requires diversity more than recurrence to progress,” Esmée said. “Can you give us a history of your experiences with it?”

Priam nodded and began counting on his fingers. “I bathed in a volcano. Showered in draconic Breath flames. Approached the miniature sun that lights my inner world. Turned my blood into plasma. Took a gamma spike to the head.” He thought for a second. “Oh, and I burned my soul.”

Silence greeted the list.

“I see. We’ll need to be inventive,” Esmée summarized.

“Hum. Anyone, ideas?”

“Atmospheric reentry. Exposure to a massive solar lens. Re-transform your blood into plasma and compress it with a powerful magnetic field,” Kazuki suggested.

“Not possible in Elysium because of flying monsters. Not possible in Elysium because of the Necromoon. Not possible due to lack of scientific infrastructure,” shot down the young Lord.

“Ingest flammable liquids.”

Priam turned to Sna and nodded. “Can you prepare those?”

The shaman blinked slowly. Her racial change had not affected her mannerisms.

“Well, let’s move to simpler resistances,” Jasmine said, pulling out a dagger. “I’ll practice calligraphy on your body.”

“…I’m going to sound like a psychopath, but that actually seems like a good idea,” Priam grimaced. “Except it’s not much different from our usual training. I’m looking for something more revolutionary. Dad?”

Alain raised an eyebrow. “If you think I’m going to invent a press to crush my son, you don’t know me very well.”

Esmée raised her hand.

“According to my scrying, the fifth Terror’s lair also contains a natural source capable of boosting physical resistance. This time, it concerns [Torsion Resistance].”

“Interesting. For when we resume the Terror hunt,” Jasmine yawned.

“But we can prepare beforehand by unlocking the base resistance,” Kazuki said, staring into space. “One hundred and twelve Potential points for me.”

“Forty-two,” Priam replied. “Perks of [Homo Elysian Obsession] and a hard life.”

“Two hundred and sixty,” Esmée admitted, blushing.

“I can help you save points,” Jasmine smiled.

“Really?”

“Yes. Hold out your hand.” The princess complied, and the Shadow grabbed her forearm. “Rose calls this an Indian burn,” she said, twisting.

Much to Jasmine’s chagrin, Esmée did not let out a cry.

The tornado did not sound like a tornado. The absence of violent wind unsettled Priam, but not enough to make him open his eyes. The sand abrading his skin like a belt sander was not a lethal threat as long as he kept his eyelids shut. Otherwise, even a single grain could force its way through an eyeball and dismantle his brain.

Which would have been inconvenient, since he had used [He Who Eludes Death] earlier that morning to survive an acid bath. Not produced by Sna, but discovered by Blueberry inside the Terror’s stomach. Climbing into the organ had seemed like an excellent idea.

Number of deaths: 51

Lvl Up: [Acid Resistance] lvl 16, 17, 18, 19, 20
CONST +5

[Acid Resistance] has reached level 20, its maximum level as a common skill. Depending on your background, three upgrades are available:

[Acid Resistance - Rare] - General upgrade. No future upgrade possible. Potential Cost: 5

[Acid Resilience - Rare] - You have resisted a nasty acid for several hours. Future upgrades possible. Potential Cost: 10

[Acid Infused Flesh - Rare] - You soaked in the stomach of a Tier 1 draconic entity and survived. High upgrade potential. Potential Cost: 20

After dismissing the high upgrade, the Juggernaut resurrected and exited the stomach. A rude comment from Jasmine and Esmée’s disgusted expression convinced him to seek out Bertomne in hopes of scraping the stench from him—a smell even Pyro had failed to burn away.

Noticing that the four layers of his epidermis had vanished, Priam smiled. That should be enough to free him from the stench.

Lvl Up: [Shear Resistance] lvl 34
CONST +7
META (Endurance) +2

The dopamine rush from the level-up made him smile right before he heard Bertomne collapse. The sand tornado followed.

“Sorry… that’s my limit,” the sand singer said between breaths.

“That’s already great,” Priam reassured him, standing up. He sniffed himself. “It was effective.”

“G–Good.”

Summoning a mist toga over his 2die4 boxers, Priam patted the crafter’s shoulder and left the beach. Lengthening his stride, he ran through the forest, listening to [Movement Virtuoso]. Soon, the outpost was within sight and he returned to Elysium.

A brief moment near Log-a-rhythm was enough to catch up on everyone’s progress. Alain was preparing a lightning rod to boost [Lightning Resistance] during the next storm. One foot chained to the ground, Kazuki was fighting three hoplites at once. Jasmine was teaching Esmée stretching exercises. Sna brewed steaming potions. Osiris was clowning around to make Rose laugh.

Bloody System, am I the one who will have to give them the prevention talk?

Priam grimaced faintly before locking himself inside his tree. Immersed in a sap bath, he opened his veins to challenge [Fount of Pseudo-Ichor], while a parallel thought practiced Esmée’s magical exercises under his mentor’s guidance.

The ideal upgrade for [Aether Manipulation - Rare] required five known prerequisites:

Domain II

Meta(Affinity)(evolved) > 1,000.

Meta(Focus)(evolved) > 1,000.

Meta(Endurance)(evolved) > 1,000.

Advanced mastery of Aether (click for details).

For a long time, Priam had believed the ideal skill impossible to get and resigned himself to [High Aether Manipulation - Epic]. Today, Domain II was within reach. Meta Affinity had a dream evolution, Meta Focus came bundled with Mind Ennoblement, and his mastery of aether was exceptional thanks to effort, talent, and ambition.

All he lacked were a few points in Meta Focus—easy—and an evolution of Meta Endurance. One the fourth Merit of [Ace] could trigger at any moment.

Alternatively, if Priam chose not to rush an attribute increase, [Perfectionist] could replace up to three ideal prerequisites below the legendary rank.

“No. Better to improve Meta Endurance.”

“You might want to wait on that.”

Priam opened one eye toward the window into reality to his left. Beyond it, Keltan’h’s hologram watched him train.

“Why? I need every advantage if I want to clear Wave 95… and survive the High Tribulation that comes right after.”

“Can’t say. My oath. But there’s a reason my phantom was able to steal control of your flames so easily.”

Priam studied the phoenix for a few seconds before closing his eyes again. “Fine. In any case, I still need Domain II, and I won’t raise my Supremacy before I’m ready to Tier up.” No need to rush. “On the other hand, do you have any tips for manipulating aether? Or do your oaths keep you from helping me with that too?”

“Cheeky brat. You used to be more respectful.”

“That was before your mother said she’d kill me to my face.”

“... You don’t talk about my mother, and I won’t talk about yours?”

“Deal.”