Chapter 425: The First One to Fall

Chapter 425: The First One to Fall

Lvl Up: [Radiation Resistance] lvl 11
CONST +3
VIT +3
Meta(Authority) +3

The Juggernaut wiped a trail of blood from the corner of his lips. Ignoring his pain receptors thanks to Micro, he smiled faintly. He loved magic, but being a tank had its perks. Still… how the hell did they manage to poison me?

When the dimensional barrier started to ripple like boiling water, Priam stood from atop his tree and stretched. Kazuki landed beside him a second before Braato and Mama Apo appeared.

“Sna still hasn’t shown up?” asked the shaman.

“Nope.”

“Spineless bitch. Not that I expected better from someone who fights with toxins and curses,” the old Gaesert spat on the wooden floor. “I’ll handle Griffe. Braato and our hunters will use their numbers to choke what’s left of the enemy Tier 3s. That leaves you and Kazuki against Felix and Léo.”

Priam shook his head. “No. Braato will help Kazuki hold Léo. The hoplites will cover them, and I’ll join in once Felix is down.”

Mama Apo narrowed her eyes. “You think you can give us orders?”

“I think that if Léo overwhelms Kazuki, you’ll be the ones paying for it. In blood.”

The old shaman’s cracked lips spread into a half-toothless smile. “Only if we fight alongside you. Our feud with the Aelbes doesn’t have to end today, especially if they’re leaving these lands.”

Priam frowned. “Braato gave his word—”

“Braato is our chieftain, not our sovereign. And as shaman, I hold veto power. So, tell me, what are you willing to offer for our support?”

Negotiating an alliance made sense when the Gaeserts were risking their lives for Oasis, but the haggling that followed grated on Priam’s nerves. A dragon did not negotiate. A dragon was obeyed.

For better or for worse, Priam wasn’t a dragon yet.

Refusing to part with resources, pay Sun Points, or grant them access to Valaryth, the Lord of Oasis finally settled on a compromise: he would bring a few Gaeserts to the moon whenever he could. The Colosseum’s challenges would benefit their warriors, while other facilities would aid their craftsmen.

In short, humanity’s Champion had just decided to delegate the problem to Prometheus.

Mama Apo spat into her palm before extending it. Pursing his lips, Priam did the same. The wet suction sound of their palms meeting was thoroughly revolting. Could be worse. At least it’s spit, not piss.

“Let’s get into position.”

A minute later, the dimensional barrier stilled for an instant, then burst like a soap bubble.

Priam’s gaze found Léo’s first, then slid to Griffe, to the enemy Tier 3s, and finally to Felix. Once a merchant, then a schoolmaster, and now the judge of his tribe. Not a warrior, but his charisma-based build was still dangerous.

The two sides sized each other up before Léo gestured toward Felix. The old clansman cleared his throat.

“Those who wish to fight, step forward.”

Priam didn’t move. Orders were clear: no one advanced before the Aelbes, or they would risk triggering a surprise from the minefield.

Which was why he was surprised when a Tier 3 Gaesert leapt forward. Midway, the fool tore through a faint filament of aether, which detonated a lightning rune. It was as if a thunderbolt struck the battlefield.

The blast didn’t kill him outright, but it stunned him long enough for an Aelbe arrow to finish the job.

“What the—”

“Anyone below the second charisma milestone, fall back!” barked Mama Apo before turning toward the enemy Tier 4. “You’ve improved.”

“Progress isn’t the prerogative of the young,” Felix replied smoothly, then looked at Kazuki. “Come.”

A black gleam flashed in the hoplite’s eyes, but he didn’t move. The General knew his Duty.

“How rude…” Felix turned his gaze toward the Juggernaut. “Come.”

Even before the Tutorial, Priam had never been easy to hypnotize. Hence his surprise when the command hit him like a hammer. For an instant, he was once more a child facing his mother’s wrath. A part of him wanted to obey, just to avoid the slap. His muscles twitched, his body beginning to move on its own… until the rebellious child fought back.

“I’ve never liked being told what to do,” Priam growled, tapping a rune beneath his right foot.

If he didn’t break the stalemate now, they would still be here by dawn.

The rune acted as a switch. Once triggered, it sent a spark of aether through a conduit to a central node, which distributed the charge to a hundred linked rituals. For this design, Priam had been inspired by the shunt circuits he had studied so extensively. 

Drawing on Log-a-rhythm’s reserves, every single runic trap activated at once.

Hours of preparation blossomed into a cascade of destruction. Flame torrents. Lightning arcs. Blades of wind. Earthquakes. Hail storm. Shrapnel ripping through the air… An apocalyptic deluge poured down upon the Aelbe manor.

If his enemies were reluctant to advance across a minefield, Priam would simply make them move.

Through the bright flashes and explosions, he saw them. A dozen Tier 3s and three Tier 4s, dancing through the carnage with impressive agility, evading most of the onslaught, deflecting the rest, and suffering only superficial wounds.

Having spared them a glance, Priam looked up. Above, a complex ritual array was conjuring massive lenses. Soon, the Necromoon’s light converged upon the Aelbe force, the heat less deadly than the corruption riding on its rays.

With a roar, the first Aelbe broke ranks and charged beyond the barrier’s former perimeter. He triggered two mines, yet his sheer speed saved him from the worst of the explosions.

If I’d had just a little more time to mine the field…

Encouraged by his success, the Aelbe hunters followed, just to be intercepted by the Gaesert warriors. Hostilities broke out. Soon, only Felix remained.

The old clansman looked every bit the gentleman, if one ignored the saber-length canines jutting from his mouth. Step by step, he ascended toward Log-a-rhythm, walking on air as if it were solid ground.

Priam drew Promesse and advanced to meet him.

“Miss,” said the Tier 4 calmly as the Juggernaut thrust.

Priam’s hand betrayed him by veering off course. The attack didn’t even ruffle the man’s hair.

“Priam Azura,” Felix greeted him with a courteous smile, as if the Champion hadn’t just tried to kill him. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

“I’d say the same, but that’d be a lie,” Priam shot back, lunging again.

“Miss.”

His spear sliced through empty air.

“Miss.”

Again.

“Miss.”

Over and over. By the end of a laborious, futile combo, Priam was snarling. He couldn’t fathom what Felix was doing. Whether the ability was under Soul or Karma, [Free Will] or [Rule Breaker] should have countered it.

There’s something I’m missing.

“Oasis and my clan need not be enemies. We’re ready to swear—”

Priam activated [Kinetic Sovereignty], sealing his eardrums shut. Going deaf against a manipulator seemed like a smart move. Unfortunately, his next few failures proved that the enemy didn’t need to be heard to be understood.

Realizing that stubbornness would get him nowhere, Priam stepped back and summoned Pyro. The flames curved wide around Felix. At this distance, not even the heat in the air would hurt him.

Yet my mist reaches him… So he’s blocking the offensive dimension? No, it’s not Felix manipulating me. I’m hindering my own strikes.

As thought flickered through his mind, Priam commanded his addon to attack—only to cancel the order at the last second. He had been unable to stop himself. 

Yep. I’m the problem.

“You’re not attacking,” Priam noted after unlocking his hearing again.

“It wouldn’t be polite.”

“What’s your trick? This isn’t the same mechanism as a tic or inhibition, as Micro would block those,” Priam analyzed aloud. Seeing his opponent’s willingness to talk, he began listing hypotheses. “Some kind of mental disorder? A forced split personality?”

If Felix was cultivating an alter ego to control his body, Priam would flee. [He Who Eludes Death] couldn’t heal a broken mind.

“If I were that dangerous,” Felix said with a faint smile, “someone would’ve killed me long ago.”

Priam wasn’t stupid enough to take an enemy at his word, but his addon hadn’t flagged any suspicious thoughts or memories. The influence seemed to reach his subconscious.

“So, I’m under the effect of some kind of social skill? You’re exploiting my politeness? My civility? My kindness? My honor?”

“A bit of all that,” smiled Felix. “It’s hard to act against one’s own upbringing, isn’t it?”

Priam wasn’t the kind of man to strike a pacifist, and the Tier 4 was weaponizing that behavior. The gap between reality and the role Felix played was bridged by his high charisma, making the performance credible to Priam’s subconscious.

“It just takes a little willpower,” Priam growled, channeling the Fourth Merit of [Life is Hard; I’m Harder] into [Free Will].

You can select a resistance and accelerate its rate of progression.

“If willpower is a knife,” Felix murmured, “I prefer to control the hand that holds it. Less chance of getting cut that way.”

“Meaning?”

“All the will in the world won’t help you here.”

Priam clenched his jaw as [Free Will] and his Soul Gate remained silent. 

Around them, explosions rocked the air. To his right, an Aelbe plummeted from the sky, his neck twisting at an unnatural angle on impact. To his left, Braato and Kazuki were being forced back by Léo’s fury. They needed him.

If he’s telling the truth, if he’s playing on my ego, then my resistance won’t trigger. [Free Will] guards my identity and protects me from external manipulation. It doesn’t let me tamper with my morals or decisions. In that case…

Potential - Skill Creation

Please think about the skill you want to create. The Concepts will help you in its design.

Something like [Social Resistance]? 

Potential required: 826

Priam wasn’t surprised by the cost. He had never exactly been socially gifted. It wasn’t his nature.

“What’s your plan?” Felix asked innocently.

Like I’d tell y—

“Create a social resistance, then—”

Priam froze as his addon modified his recent memory to hide his secrets. Fuck!

If he hadn’t been so shocked, he might have slapped himself. He had just betrayed himself without being able to stop himself. As if, for a heartbeat, he had suffered from dissociation. A split in consciousness.

“You’re going to die.”

“Why this judgment?”

“A good mind mage is a dead mind mage,” Priam growled, voice rumbling like an oncoming storm.

“I’m no mind mage,” Felix replied smoothly. “There’s simply a huge disparity between our charismas… By the way, I doubt your new resistance will grow fast enough to ignore my suggestions.”

Potential required: 482

Priam’s lips curled upward as the System acknowledged his adaptation.

“Suggestions, huh? Not too subversive a word, right? Anyway, you’ll notice I ignored the first one.”

“The ‘come’ command ran too far against your intentions. What I do isn’t far from hypnosis; a part of your subconscious must agree before your conscious mind complies. Otherwise, I’d have just ordered you to kill yourself.”

“That’s possible?”

“If the gap in charisma is wide enough—or if the target harbors suicidal thoughts. I’m guessing that’s not your case. From what my spies say, you court death without ever kissing her.”

Priam said nothing. Re-equipping Promesse, he lunged again. Each miss, each betrayal of muscle and motion, stoked his fury—but also drew him closer to the threshold.

Potential required: 255

Lvl Up: [Radiation Resistance] lvl 12
CONST +3
VIT +3
Meta(Authority) +3

“You’re bleeding. Want a handkerchief?”

“Fuck you.”

Another miss.

While his ego roared, the Homo Elysian’s brain adapted to the abnormal stimuli. Between his wild nature, his love for freedom, the pride of his draconic bloodline, his racial Talents, and his Titles, the Juggernaut evolved to counter the manipulator.

Potential required: 1

Potential required: 0

You have gained the skill: [Social Resistance - Rare].
[Social Resistance] - Society places expectations on every individual, and those expectations shape behavior. Saying hello when you enter a shop, thank you when offered help, respecting elders, giving up your seat to the frail, being lenient with children—these civic reflexes grease the wheels of civilization.
On the other hand, fearing authority figures, accepting a widely repeated lie, following outdated traditions, yielding to love bombing, folding under emotional blackmail, staying silent before a crowd—these are examples of how social norms and psychological pressure can be abused.
Anyone whose charisma exceeds yours may exploit these levers to steer your behavior.
This skill highlights such attempts and grants you the mental elasticity to edit your morality.
Next time you see a line, you can cut to the front without feeling guilty. It’ll make you an asshole.
CHAR +3

Priam slowed his attacks, reading the skill description. Holy shit. That’s a blade to wield very carefully.

If [Free Will] guarded him from external coercion, [Social Resistance] was its inward reflection. It was dangerous, allowing him to question his own ethics, his instincts, even his empathy. One wrong move, and he could turn into a sociopath.

Lifting his gaze to Felix, Priam summoned Pyro. A fireball detonated fifteen meters behind the smug Aelbe.

“Well?” the elder smiled. “Still fighting against the compulsion?”

“I’m aware of what you’re doing now.”

“Shall I say bravo? It’s useless in the end.”

Priam smiled as his addon restored his memories. I can’t attack you… but I don’t have to to win.

With a single step, the mage rode the mist back to the top of Log-a-rhythm. Two runes were flaring before him. Priam poured aether into one, sending the current racing through a conduit that split into a hundred tributaries, each triggering a runic ignition sequence.

A heartbeat later, a lattice of barriers materialized—parallel, perpendicular, interlocking. A hundred planes intersected, dividing the battlefield into a vast three-dimensional grid. Priam estimated more than thirty thousand cubes.

Felix found himself trapped inside one. While Léo, Kazuki, and Braato easily shattered their own cells to resume their duels, the non-combatant Transcendent merely prodded at a wall of his prison. He needed to stay nonviolent so Priam’s tampered morality would keep him from striking.

What a miserable fighting style… luckily, his weakness is obvious.

Lifting his gaze, Priam felt Pyro roar in anticipation. A flame was about to be born; one that would eclipse everything its wielder could currently achieve.

High above, the hoplite war platform locked onto the target before firing a gigajoule laser. The air ignited as light devoured the space between cannon and target.

A single, blinding bolt struck the Tier 4 with the fury of a storm. A millisecond later, the upper half of his body vanished.

“One down,” Priam muttered, a faint smile cutting his bloodied face as the compulsion vanished from his mind. “I swear, the world is better off without this kind of shitty build.”

Without wasting another second, he dashed toward Léo. It was time to end this.

*

Status: 

PHYSICAL:
Strength 1 259
Constitution 2 321 (+8)
Agility 1 659
Vitality 2 246 (+13)
Perception 988 

MENTAL:
Vivacity (D) 666
Dexterity 988
Memory 1 229
Willpower 1 310
Charisma 1 124 (+7) 

META:
Meta-affinity (O) 1 474
Meta-focus 906
Meta-endurance 1 697
Meta-perception 929
Meta-chance 1 621
Meta-authority 1054 (+10) 

Potential: 42 452 (+8)
Tier 0

[Tribulation]: Five Tribulations pending.

Next thresholds: 12 attributes > 1 200 / 3 attributes > 1 800 / 1 attribute > 2 400

*

Léo - Chief of the Aelbe