Chapter 391: Blood Phoenix’s Sacrifice

Triple release: read the 389, 390 before this one!

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The Transcendent dodged the Virtuoso’s blade but caught Promesse mid-flight. Snorting, he yanked the spear free and slammed his forehead into its bearer.

Grunting, Priam staggered back, dazed. He blinked just in time to see a hand pierce Knightmare’s armor, plunging into Kazuki’s chest. Hearing his friend scream, Priam surged back into the fray, unleashing every Supremacy he had.

Léo barely spared him a glance.

A Domain crushed Priam’s own, and a wave of artificial Fear sent him stumbling. Carried by his own momentum, he crashed into a fleeing cluster of Aelbe civilians. Dropping to one knee to steady himself, his eyes locked with an old man’s just centimeters from his face.

“Old Ajin, forgive me,” a voice murmured behind him. “When the elves investigate, I need to be above suspicion.”

Before Priam could turn, claws slashed his throat.

Lvl Up: [Shear Resistance] lvl 23
CONST +7
META (Endurance) +2

Blood sprayed across the elder’s face. A second wave of Fear triggered an instinctual response in Priam. Fire was blood. Blood was fire.

The red of his lifeblood shimmered into orange plasma, and the old Aelbe ignited like a torch.  He died with a smile, knowing his sacrifice had framed Priam in full. Léo now had his excuse: vengeance for the fallen.

A second claw swipe tore off Priam’s head.

Lvl Up: [Shear Resistance] lvl 24
CONST +7
META (Endurance) +2

His head flew through the air and froze mid-arc. A kinetic manipulation snapped it back onto his neck, and a few weeks of lifespan erased the damage in a heartbeat.

Priam spun, unleashing a whirlwind attack that failed to even scratch the light fur on Léo’s calves.

The Transcendent frowned. “I’ve known Tier 4s less annoying to kill than you.”

“I’ve seen Tier 4s who could actually kill Tier 0s. Or maybe Ophis really did fuck you up?”

Léo opened his mouth, then tilted his head. The tip of Kazuki’s spear obliterated the air he had just vacated.

The hoplite looked battered. His mech was gone, and a hole the size of his thigh gaped in his torso. Blood loss had sapped his strength; his spear fell from trembling hands. But his spirit held. The General called forth blood-red chains, binding Léo with his Duty.

“Priam! Strike!”

Pouring Heroic Aura into his eyes, the Juggernaut cursed when he found zero weak points in the Tier 4’s form. Even [Hoplite Warpath], the talent he had received from Taishi, remained silent.

Fuck. [Tribulation Heroic Strike]!

He unleashed everything—Spear Mastery, Heroic Aura, Micro, and every ounce of kinetic energy left in his body. The attack tore through fur and skin, hunting for the heart. Promesse bit deep, scraped off a rib, but failed to pierce anything vital.

Léo’s eyes flashed with rage. A second later, another wave of Fear shattered the chains. Kazuki collapsed. Priam dropped to his knees.

“Gold Fangs’ only virtue was being born on Elysium. Jumping two Tiers to swat trash doesn’t make you impressive, Priam,” Léo sneered, resting his hand on the Juggernaut’s head. “Bye.”

“No!” a woman’s voice cried out. “Please, I can—”

“Sorry, dear daughter-in-law. Killing a Champion has its perks.”

Léo clenched his fist. Priam’s head exploded. His body crumpled to the ground as Esmée watched in horror. 

The Transcendent frowned. “Nothing. Must be the Tier gap. Maybe I’ll have better luck with you,” he said, turning to Kazuki.

“Heracles’ arm.”

Tier 1 Merit: Heracles blesses your arm; once per day, your weapon may pierce any defense up to ten times your own.

Léo spun with supernatural speed, narrowly avoiding a pierced heart. Priam’s hand still punched through his torso like wet paper, obliterating bones that had just repelled one of his ultimates, and bursting the right lung. The Tier 4 stared down in shock.

“H—How?”

“A Merit from The Five Ages of Man,” said Priam, as shadows swallowed Kazuki’s fallen body.

“Your head?”

“A Title about a Hydra.”

“You’re…”

“The Juggernaut.”

He called Pyro, and offered it his blood. All of it.

“Blood Phoenix’s…” A pause. It was more than a Breath. It was a… “Sacrifice.”

If the explosion that felled Gold Fangs had been a nuclear detonation, this one was a star.

Transformed into a being of pure flame, Priam felt the blast unfold. Pyro devoured everything in its path like a ravenous beast, obliterating the banquet, consuming the air, liquefying stone. The impact gouged a volcanic crater into the molten bedrock, even as the fire rose skyward—a blazing pillar that punched a hole in the clouds. 

No divine smite could have been more violent—or more terrifying.

For the second day in a row, the tribes were struck by cataclysm. Yet this time, it had been merciful, incinerating its victims outright to deny the Necromoon.

Once its momentum waned, the incandescent column exploded into a rain of fire, setting off blazes across a wide radius. At ground level, a pyroclastic tsunami engulfed buildings for hundreds of meters before slowing, then halting.

For a brief moment, the fire seemed to hesitate, as though it were trying to remember something. In vain. It had grown too vast, too wild, and lost its name. It’s identity. 

Then Pyro’s true nature resurfaced, and doubt vanished in smoke.

The fire roared, free.

*

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

Number of deaths: 44

Synergy detected with your talent [Homo Elysian Obsession] and your Titles [Four-Headed Hydra] and [Life is Hard; I’m Harder]. 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: [Pyro Champion Physique] lvl 3
CONST +9
VIT +3
META (Endurance) +6
META (Authority) +9

Attempting Nirvana… connection closed by the user. 

*

As soon as Priam’s consciousness returned, he rode the fire for a hundred meters. It wasn’t difficult as seconds after Blood Phoenix’s Sacrifice, the horizon was still ablaze.

At the epicenter of the explosion stood Léo. His survival was clearly owed to his transformation. Covered in white fur streaked with black, the Tier 4 had bulked up with over two hundred kilos of sheer muscle. His nails had become claws over thirty centimeters long, and his pupils were now slitted. In the middle of his chest, the gaping hole left by Priam revealed flesh half-altered by aether—spectral, glowing, and barely singed.

“The image of the White Tiger,” Priam murmured. Rohan had summoned that mythical skill in their duel.

“An image is mythical. A transfiguration, transcendent. My son summoned the Myth. I wield it.” The Tier 4 turned toward him, indifferent to the flames licking his half-Aelbe, half-tiger form. “I was wrong to toy with you. Those last two attacks were impressive.”

“Wait till you see what’s next.”

“Bravado… or are you actually serious?” Léo grunted. “There’s still time for you to run. I won’t pursue you.”

“When a tiger talks, it’s because his claws are broken. Sounds to me like the jungle’s king is falling off his throne,” Priam taunted.

“You’re out of aces. And I don’t believe for a second those attacks came without cost. Even if they did, you won’t land another hit. Five seconds or five minutes, you’ll fall.”

“Says the one too tired to close the hole in his chest.”

“Don’t flatter yourself; Ophis’ poison is flaring up. Without it, this fight would’ve ended already.”

“Maybe.” Priam shrugged. “And maybe the Gaeserts will start wondering why their great rival can’t finish off a Tier 0. Can you fight Braato right now?”

The two opponents stared each other down until Léo sighed. “What do you want?”

“Call off the marriage.”

“I need a union between the Aelbe and the Empyreans.”

“Then have Rohan marry Aydan!” snapped Priam.

Léo raised a brow. “A marriage without heirs is worthless. Then again… perhaps Eleha and Aydan could work…” He stroked his chin. “Esmée will decide if she wants to marry Rohan—no pressure from me. Unless you intend to deny her that choice?”

Priam clenched his fists. At the cusp of her freedom, the princess might sell herself to reach her goals. But if I can offer an alternative...

“Fine. She’s a free woman.” The image of a wounded Kazuki flashed in his mind. Priam’s jaw tightened. “And what about Proxima?”

“You think you can negotiate that far?”

“I know half this camp is on fire. Wouldn’t be hard to burn the rest—buildings and people alike.”

“I’ll kill you before that happens.”

“You’ve tried. Several times. Still here.”

Léo growled, then switched tactics. “You’d massacre thousands of innocents?”

“If it stops them from wiping out my civilization in a few days? Yes.”

Until now, Priam had done everything in his power to limit civilian casualties. But at the table of the powerful, only the strong and the mad were feared. If Léo thought he was the latter, maybe he would back down.

Priam hoped so. Because truthfully, he wasn’t sure he could carry out the threat. Stirring his Heroic Aura, the Champion straightened and met his enemy’s gaze.

“…Proxima has three continents,” the Transcendent said at last. “Here’s my offer: one for us, one for the humans, and one for the hoplites. Deal stands until the Third Reunion.”

Priam nearly exhaled in relief. He had just bluffed with nothing in his hand and his life on the line. If Léo had called it, he would be dead before realizing it.

“Deal.”

“I’ve got a soul-binding contract in my office, let’s—”

Alert: Your property ‘Valaryth 84’s Rift’ is under attack.

Priam’s eyes widened. A heartbeat later, the air shimmered beside him and a masked figure appeared.

“Unnecessary. I am witness to these negotiations,” declared the Demiurge to Léo. “You may go. You stay,” he added, addressing the Champion.

The curious part of Priam’s mind noted that the High Marshal was on the short side for an elf. Meanwhile, the parallel thought managing his Domain went dark. The aether radiating off the being was several orders of magnitude higher than anything the Concepts’ sun had ever emitted.

Léo bowed low and slinked away to lick his wounds.

“She who hides in your shadow may remain.” With a casual flick of his hand, the Demiurge snuffed out the flames engulfing the camp. “You know why I’m here.”

Standing before the Tier 5 was like facing a tsunami about to crash. Priam swallowed hard as his primal brain screamed at him to run.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” he managed, carefully enunciating every word, “but I’ve got a pretty urgent problem at the moment. Maybe we could talk later—”

“Your problem is my problem,” the Demiurge interrupted. “The Fallen has stepped into your back garden, and I intend to deliver its head to my Queen.” He met Priam’s eyes. “Grant me passage through your rift.”

“... Take me with you.”*

Priam Character Sheet (you can thanks the Discord guys!)

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Status: 

PHYSICAL:
Strength 1 253
Constitution 2 146 (+32)
Agility 1 652
Vitality 2 105 (+6)
Perception 990 

MENTAL:
Vivacity (D) 666
Dexterity 983
Memory 1 152
Willpower 1 298
Charisma 960 

META:
Meta-affinity (O) 1 405
Meta-focus 886 
Meta-endurance 1 616 (+15)
Meta-perception 861
Meta-chance 1 089
Meta-authority 799 (+15)  

Potential: 33 724 (+10)
Tier 0

[Tribulation]: Five Tribulations pending.

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

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Myth of the White Tiger