Chapters 333 + 334

You know the drill; when I'm late, it's a double! Enjoy!

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

*

Chapter 333: Scars make lessons stick

Lvl Up: [In the Zone] lvl 2
PERC +3
VIVA +3
DEXT +3

“We’ve detected a life signature at the top of the tower.”

“Just one?”

“Yes. All personnel evacuated hours ago.”

“Good.”

“Uh, sir?”

“Yeah?”

“This is a Wartech complex, a paramilitary security firm. The target may have access to their equipment.”

“He’s gonna need it.”

Priam’s haunted gaze locked onto the towering black monolith, roughly thirty stories tall. Somewhere up there was the tenth clone of the son the System had unceremoniously thrown into his arms. A descendant he felt no real love for, but one he couldn't bring himself to execute in cold blood. Killing someone was never easy. Slaying his own blood...

His mind in turmoil, Priam approached the tower’s base and placed a hand against the cold surface. He had no intention of taking the elevator up for a face-to-face confrontation. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

Promesse materialized in his other hand, and a single thrust obliterated one of the tower’s supporting walls. Four strikes later, the metal groaned in protest as the building’s frame was beginning to buckle.

[Kinetic Sovereignty].

The collapse halted mid-motion as Priam absorbed the tower’s weight. The skill was meant to manipulate kinetic energy, not raw force, but the System didn’t seem to mind the distinction. A titanic power coursed through his pathways, and Priam allowed himself a smirk—suspending over a hundred thousand tons of concrete, glass, and steel barely made his aether circuits heat up. A few weeks ago, his meridians would have exploded. In fact, they had.

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? Or maybe that only applies to physical trials…”

Shoving the depressive thought aside, Priam stored energy for fifteen seconds, until his reserves brimmed. The moment he hit full capacity, he reversed the flow.

The paramilitary complex launched skyward as if gravity had flipped. His legendary skill altered its trajectory, upending the structure so that its roof pointed straight down. [Kinetic Sovereignty].

Like a divine spear hurled from the heavens, the tower plummeted, striking the ground with cataclysmic force. The structure crumpled in on itself, collapsing like a soda can beneath a hydraulic press, entombing the tenth clone beneath a mountain of wreckage. Floating in Arkana’s twilight sky, Priam watched the shockwave ripple outward, making the entire district tremble. When the quake finally subsided, he descended onto the debris, closed his eyes, and focused on his bare feet. If the clone had survived, its beating heart would betray it—unlike necromantic horrors, his nemesis’ creations still had functioning circulatory systems.

“No pulse. He’s dead,” he confirmed after a minute.

"That was the last one."

“Are you sure?”

“One of our agents just found the eleventh clone’s head in a dumpster.”

Jasmine had beaten him to the punch.

“Then only the original remains.”

“I don’t think we can help locate him. Something’s blocking us.”

“That’s—”

As if a compass had just fused with his brain, Priam felt his attention compelled toward a specific direction. His add-on informed him that the source of this new sense was an old Title.

[Threat Killer - Bronze] - You're not the shield that protects humanity. You are the spear that destroys its enemies. This choice says a lot about you because you didn't hesitate for a moment. You're getting to know yourself better, and you don't look away when you meet your reflection.
Humanity fears monsters. Will monsters fear you?
You detect threats to humanity.
STR +10%

By endangering humanity, the necromantic horde had just betrayed the position of its creator.

“—irrelevant. I know where he is.”

*

The city block looked like any other unremarkable residential cluster in Arkana. If you didn’t live here, there was no reason to give it a second glance. No food stalls, no shops, no clubs for partying. On second thought, the lack of commerce was almost suspicious.

“I’m guessing these aren’t just ordinary apartments,” Priam mused.

His handler answered in his earpiece. “It seems like they are—”

“You’re looking at a void location,” Abernathy interrupted. “My department isn’t authorized to investigate here. I don’t have the clearance to know more, so expect the unexpected.”

“Noted. I’ll take it from here. Thanks for your cooperation.”

“Likewise. Hopefully, you won’t destroy what’s left of my city before your fight is over…”

“I’ll do my best,” Priam said, yanking out the earpiece and crushing it between his fingers. The device fizzled before he tossed it into a nearby trash bin. The apocalypse was no excuse for bad manners.

Priam turned toward the row of buildings, studying the doors facing him. To maintain the illusion of normalcy, all had to be used regularly, ensuring no immediate suspicion from neighbors. But that didn’t mean they all led somewhere meaningful.

Kneeling, Priam examined the pavement. Most passersby scuffed their shoes while walking, leaving behind minute traces of debris. If one entrance had noticeably more accumulation than the others, it meant heavier foot traffic—odd for a block where every building was roughly the same size.

Walking the street, Priam soon found a suspicious porch. It looked as mundane as the rest, but his enhanced vision detected a higher concentration of crushed particles. An ordinary human would see only dirt. Priam, with his perception nearly ninety times greater than the average man, read the erosion of countless footsteps.

He approached the door, attempted to slip his mist through the cracks—and smirked when it failed. According to his Domain, in addition to impressive technological shielding, runes sealed the passage. [Kinetic Sovereignty].

The sigils didn’t even register the legendary skill. Silently, the lock turned, and the door swung open. Priam stepped into a standard apartment lobby and whistled as he sensed the meter-thick layer of lead beneath his feet. A bunker. One impervious to anything short of nuclear annihilation. The metal framework was laced with an intricate network of runes and he took a moment to analyze them.

“Absorption, vibration, boundary, heat, shield, kinetic, conduit… That’s a vector? Yeah, up. And that’s down. Then redirection, divination, vision, jamming—!” Priam listed before collapsing as a sharp pain detonated in his skull.

Lvl Up: [Ciphered Record] lvl 3
MEM +6
META (Affinity) +6
META (Authority) +15

Meta(Authority) exceeds 500 points. First milestone reached. Congratulations!

[All-rounder - Gold] becomes [Jack of all trades - Legendary] !

[Jack of all trades] - You have reached the first threshold in every physical, mental, and spiritual attribute at Tier 0. All facets of your being have been sharpened as you dabbled in many skills. A warrior, strategist, and mage all at once, your versatility allows you to find a solution suited to every problem.
Some claim you're a Master of none; silence these rumors.
Bonus (All-rounder): MEM +30%
Bonus (Jack of all trades): Skill progression speed +1%

Snapping his attention away from the sigils, Priam clenched his teeth and rubbed his temples. “Fuck!”

Some kind of divinatory trap had lashed out, punishing his curiosity. His legendary-tier resistance had redirected most of the strike into the void, and his absurdly high constitution had endured the rest. Still, Priam grimaced as without [Ciphered Record], his brain would have liquefied.

“A defense capable of killing a Tier 2…” His lips curled into a grin. “Interesting.”

Despite the pain, excitement flickered beneath the surface. The prospect of unraveling a new layer of magic was intoxicating. But Priam resisted the urge—if the formation could learn, repeated probing might strengthen its defenses. The array contained hundreds of runes, most unfamiliar despite his training with the Mercenaries. Like letters forming words, each sigil’s meaning could shift in combination. His add-on calculated that it would take weeks to decode the defensive arrays.

“Maybe if I invest in certain Merits and leverage my dream evolution, I could shave that time down... but not to less than an hour.”

According to [Threat Killer], his nemesis was right below his feet, and for a moment, Priam entertained the idea of using his full power to break through the defenses. With Breath, he might have a chance… or maybe not. Even if I could, I’d rather keep that ace for the final fight.

Clenching his fists at the thought of his opponent’s identity, Priam decided to explore the ground floor to find the bunker’s official entrance. The second doorway he checked confirmed his suspicions—this wasn’t just an apartment complex. The tiled flooring abruptly transitioned into synthetic paneling, and at the heart of a room the size of an entire apartment sat a reception desk that had no business being in a residential building.

Priam scanned the room and smirked when he spotted a fire evacuation plan pinned behind the desk.

“Regulations will be the death of us,” he muttered, tracing the layout. Two staircases with one leading downward. 

After pushing through two simple doors, Priam found himself before a reinforced blast door with a magnetic lock. Less secure than the main entrance, it allowed tendrils of mist to seep through.

Twenty meters behind it, Priam noticed a massive hatch. Whoever designed this bunker had been paranoid because the entrance was reinforced even more heavily than the rest of the structure. Not that it mattered as the hatch was open.

Priam grinned at the sight of a woman sitting at the edge of the void, legs swinging idly over the abyss.

“Took you long enough.”

“I’d bet you haven’t been here for more than five minutes,” Priam replied with a genuine smile. His first in a long time.

“Four minutes and thirty-two seconds, according to the add-on you so generously gifted me.” She crossed her arms. “Doesn’t change the fact that it’s rude to keep a lady waiting.”

Priam feigned surprise. “A lady? You brought a friend?”

Jasmine shot him a glare. “Next time, you can deal with your kid’s clones by yourself.” Her face twisted in a grimace at the same time as Priam’s. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, it’s…” Priam sighed and moved to sit beside her. “The System really screwed me over with this one.”

“How are you holding up?”

“Badly. I don’t know if I’m weak for hesitating to kill my own blood or if I should tell the System to go fuck itself.”

“These Tribulations…” Jasmine exhaled sharply. “Sometimes I think they’re designed to rip every last shred of empathy from us. To turn us into monsters.”

Priam gazed at the spiral staircase plunging into the depths of the bunker. “The Concepts want to temper our character. Whether my pragmatism teeters on cruelty or I stand my ground despite the hardships, it’s all the same to them.”

But while Priam was quick to ignore pain in pursuit of his goals, his hearts were more sensitive.

Jasmine pulled him into an embrace, and he didn’t resist.

“But killing your son…”

“He’s not really my son.” Priam closed his eyes, thinking of future foes. “One day, an enemy will clone a friend or a family member and use them as leverage or hostage. If that gets to me, I’ll never be free. The System is teaching me a valuable lesson.”

“That’s brutal.”

“Scars make lessons stick.”

*

As he started feeling a little better, Priam became aware of Jasmine’s scent—a floral fragrance that clashed with her usual fierce and sexy demeanor. When she retracted her thorns, the young woman was… The right adjective escaped him, and Priam frowned.

“Something wrong?”

“Nothing. You smell nice.”

Her heartbeat, steady until now, stuttered. Priam suddenly realized his face was nestled against her chest. Pulling back, he flushed upon noticing she had swapped her cocktail dress for a shadow suit. While it offered perfect visual concealment, it lacked physical protection as her shadows had no substance outside of combat.

“Your dress…”

“After crawling through sewers to kill one of your kid’s clones, I decided to ditch it. The smell was…”

“Atrocious? A shame, it suited you.” 

Jasmine smiled brightly and some of the fog obscuring Priam’s mind disappeared. 

“Hum. Did you learn anything useful?”

“Yeah. First, I can attack his creations but not him directly. Second, his attacks carry a spiritual echo.”

Priam narrowed his eyes. “Meaning?”

“When he wounds your body, he wounds your soul. That’s doubly dangerous for us Homo Elysians, given our physical-spiritual connection.”

“Ah. That explains how he split my soul during Back in Time. He just had to cut my body.” Priam held up three fingers. “Three Tribulations. First, my nemesis: it forces me to weigh my desire for freedom against my ties to my family and my empathy against my pragmatism.” He lowered his index. “Second, the ability to directly damage the soul. If he severs my arm, I can’t regenerate it until I heal my soul—if that’s even possible. A pointed lesson from the System about my greatest weaknesses as a tank.” The middle finger went down. “Lastly, a countdown. If I take too long to win, it’s game over. A reminder that I’m a shitty tracker and my offense is lagging behind my defense.”

[Kinetic Sovereignty] and Pyro Unity had solved that weakness.

“Knowing what to expect is half the battle,” Jasmine said with a grin. “Shall we?”

“We?”

“I’m coming with you. If there’s fodder, I’ll handle it.”

“...” Priam hesitated, realizing she was worried about him. Did she know he had needed [In the Zone] to execute one of the clones? That he had obliterated the second without giving it a chance to show his face?

“I can kill him.”

“I don’t doubt you,” Jasmine said.

“Soon, he’ll find my spear deep inside his body,” Priam insisted.

“Like his mother before him,” Jasmine said with innocence. “By the way, you never talk about Victoire.”

Recognizing a conversation he had no intention of having, Priam vaulted into the bunker. Jasmine followed, laughing.

*

Status: 

PHYSICAL:
Strength 915
Constitution 1 582
Agility 1 256
Vitality 1 468
Perception 881 (+4) 

MENTAL:
Vivacity (D) 634 (+3)
Dexterity 787 (+3)
Memory 972 (+11)
Willpower 1 208
Charisma 888 

META:
Meta-affinity (O) 1 103 (+8)
Meta-focus 633
Meta-endurance 1 094
Meta-perception 558
Meta-chance 667
Meta-authority 516 (+22) 

Potential: 27 209 (+7)
Tier 0

Sun points: 1 143 444 

[He Who Eludes Death] charge: PRIMED.

Concepts:

• Breath (T0): 100% / Harmony

• Fire (T0): 100% / Unity

• Pyro (T1): 100% / Unity

• Mist (T1): 100% / Symphony

Bloodlines:

• Phoenix: 3%

• Dragon: 2%

Rewards standing: 

• Fusion Token - Skill (Epic) 

• Evolution Token - Skill (Legendary)

• Affinity Token - Tier 1 (30%)

• Alien Concept fragment (7th Terror)

• Talent Token - Upgrade (Seraph)

• Revelation Token - Ideal Prerequisites (Epic)

• Colosseum VIP Token

• Reborn Token - Reset biological lifespan (Legendary) 

• Minor skill Epiphany

• Seed of Potential

• Trophy Compass

[Tribulation]: Two Tribulations pending.
Future Tribulations delayed until:
Time: 29 days 21 hours 22 minutes 12 seconds.
Next thresholds: 12 attributes > 900 / 6 attributes > 1 200 / 1 attribute > 1 800

*

Chapter 334: End of the Tribulations - Part 1

“All this security for a medical research lab?” Jasmine asked, walking down a long, sterile corridor. Thick glass panels lined the walls, revealing syringes and an array of medical equipment inside.

“No beds or chairs,” Priam pointed out. “And look at those syringes—some of them are automated. They were running experiments on animals here.”

“So, a veterinary lab?” Jasmine mused. “I wonder what kind of secrets warrant a bunker that probably costs more than a skyscraper.”

“I think you’re underestimating the cost,” Priam replied, eyeing the glowing runes on the floor and ceiling. Right now, they were serving as basic lighting, but a single command could overclock them to unleash an ultraviolet inferno. The real question was—why?

The two continued down the corridor until they reached a set of double doors, each emblazoned with a massive, blood-red symbol—the kind that screamed ‘turn back’. A panel to the left displayed instructions. The script was unreadable to Priam, but Jasmine translated.

“Decontamination airlock. Proceed only when equipped with a Positive Pressure Personnel Suit,” she read before explaining, “A full-body garment used for protection against hazardous materials.”

“That’s not creepy at all,” Priam muttered, glancing at an open locker room nearby. Judging by the empty racks, the Tutorial must have yanked the scientists mid-shift, leaving no hazmat suits behind.

Jasmine’s voice darkened. “I think I know where we are. A branch of the Biological Hazard Institute. The Guild avoids these places like the plague.”

The wordplay earned a smirk from Priam. “So what are we dealing with? A simple study of highly pathogenic agents? Genetic retrovirus experiments to alter species? Bioengineered bacteria and viruses that make Ebola look like a common cold?”

“Hell if I know,” Jasmine replied. “I dropped out of school when I was six. My biology knowledge is limited… except for human anatomy, of course.”

Priam gestured toward his shadow. “Go in. You’re better off staying put.”

Jasmine didn’t even argue, obeying not in blind submission but in unshakable trust. To the young woman, the Juggernaut was unkillable. So why worry?

Priam stepped forward, and the door slid open, granting him entry into a sterile white chamber. It sealed shut behind him and before he could question the wisdom of willingly stepping into a reinforced cell, powerful pumps roared to life, sucking the air from the room. A chemical mist drenched him next, searing his skin. Priam groaned as the solvent burned his retinas.

Lvl Up: [Acid Resistance] lvl 10
CONST +1

Barely had his eyes regenerated when a blinding ultraviolet flash seared his vision again. At least the burst of light finished drying him off.

“What was that?! Your shadow was weird for a second.”

Without air, Priam couldn’t tell her it was a precaution to obliterate any lingering biohazards on his skin.

Lvl Up: [Radiation Resistance] lvl 6
CONST +3
VIT +3
Meta(Authority) +3

The next door opened, revealing an identical chamber. Priam stepped through, and was once again imprisoned. The new room filled with sterilized air, and the mage narrowed his eyes.

“You still breathing in there?” he asked his shadow.

“Yep.”

“Damn shame. There must be a reason this place has an airlock…”

Another mist shower hit him, and he shivered as a fresh solvent gnawed at his skin.

Lvl Up: [Acid Resistance] lvl 11
CONST +1

“This isn’t exactly pleasant…”

“I noticed you’re not a fan of showers.”

“I wear a mantle of flames, and Micro lets me regulate sweat, sebum, and earwax production. What the hell do I need a shower for?”

“To smell like something other than smoke?”

Priam knew a lost battle when he saw one and dropped the subject. Jasmine nestled in his shadow, he strode through pristine corridors lined with microscopes and unfamiliar instruments. Guided by [Threat Killer] like a compass, he navigated the labyrinthine facility until he reached the lowest level of the bunker. The entire floor consisted of a single room—a massive chamber spanning a hundred by two hundred meters, covering an entire city block.

Priam didn’t waste time scanning the medical equipment scattered about or the silent chimeras stationed at the four corners of the chamber. His gaze locked onto his son.

Ash-blond hair, a black mask concealing the lower half of his face, and venom-green eyes, he stood before a kneeling chimera.

“Father.”

“Son.” A second of silence. “You look less like me than your clones do.”

The nemesis sighed. “I’m afraid the Necromoon has partially corrupted me. Fortunately, since my essence is that of a Tribulation, the damage is contained and my eyes aren’t crimson.”

“Mmh.” Priam swept his gaze across the room. “I expected a trap. These chimeras won’t even slow me down.”

“They’re not meant to. They’re just culture mediums.” Seeing Priam’s confusion, the Tribulation elaborated. “Perhaps my clones have told you, but I’m a genetic researcher. One of your long-term goals was to upgrade our race to Tier 5, and I took it upon myself to handle the biological aspect.”

The nemesis poorly concealed his desire to stall for time, but Priam found the conversation interesting enough to decide to play along. “I thought past Tier 3, racial upgrades required modifying the aetheric code.”

“They do, but the genetic code has to keep up. I… My memories are fragmented,” his son admitted. “Plus, my body has been altered by the System—right now, I’m just a Tier 2 Homo Gaia sapiens. Clearly, it doesn’t want me revealing too much.”

Homo Gaia sapiens was way less stylish than Homo Elysian, but something else had caught Priam's attention.

“... Why are you staring at me so strangely?”

“Yeah, you kinda look like you wanna fuck him,” Jasmine added.

Priam rolled his eyes. “His race does interest me. With his blood, I’d take a giant leap toward Tier 3 for Homo Elysian.”

“Oh!”

“Why tell me all this?” Priam asked, ignoring his son’s discomfort.

“I’m just buying time,” the antagonist confessed. “To modify genomes effectively without advanced tech or mythical skills, I had to be clever. Did you know nearly a tenth of our genetic code comes from viruses? For example, the placenta—the organ connecting mother and fetus—relies on a viral gene. Without it, we’d still be laying eggs.”

Priam knew it already. “You’re spreading viruses right now to modify my genetic code.”

“You’re as quick-witted as ever.”

“Yet, I don’t feel sick.”

“You won’t as I’m not hurting you. I’m abusing your natural healing by altering your body’s blueprint so your body will consider that your arms and legs don’t exist. With your high vitality, your cells regenerate fast so it won’t take long for you to be nothing but a torso. Really, the only hard part is to re-encode your genome.”

A shiver ran down Priam’s spine at the thought. Suddenly, it felt as if a billion tiny creatures were crawling inside him, dismantling him from within. Flames erupted around him as he became a living torch, hoping that his Unity with Pyro would be enough to purge these unwanted guests.

His instincts—and his son’s amused smirk—told him it was wishful thinking.

“You’d need an insane level of control and understanding of your own body to leave the viruses behind when you transform,” his son pointed out. “At the very least, Micro V is required.”

“I’ll get there,” Priam muttered, studying his hands. His fingerprints had vanished, but the rest of his body seemed intact. “Looks like your viruses are struggling to get through my constitution.”

“That only delays your defeat. You’d need [Virus Resistance] at a legendary rank to block my attack. And my viruses are preventing your cells from mutating to resist them. Your reprieve won’t last.”

Without wasting a second, Priam activated the fourth Merit of [Life is Hard; I’m Harder], selecting [Virus Resistance]. With any luck, his accelerated cell mutation and skill progression would outpace the blockade imposed by his opponent.

Summoning his spear into his right hand, Priam took a step forward. “Let’s see if you can dodge Promesse long enough for your viruses to bring me down.”

*

“[Lightning Knot]!” Prometheus roared, more to warn his allies than to show off. Shouting out his abilities was getting old—especially when it was the hundredth time in fifteen minutes.

A spark ignited ten centimeters in front of his palm, and he hastily stepped back. Five seconds later, a lightning bolt as thick as a tree trunk erupted from that source, leaping from target to target and electrocuting his enemies. Any RPG player watching would have instantly recognized chain lightning, a spell notorious for its indiscriminate friendly fire.

A hundred smoking bodies crashed to the ground, their deaths drowned out by the rolling thunder. Not a single human was among the dead.

“Impressive, my King,” a nearby knight remarked while trying to tame a lesser lighting bolt. The original creator of [Lightning Knot] lacked the necessary attributes to guide his skill.

Frankly, so did Prometheus. But the rain cascading over the abominations made them perfect conductors. Above, heavy storm clouds summoned by [Cloud Tide] loomed, their droplets avoiding humans under the influence of [Rain Blessing].

Juggling the powers of his knights, Prometheus achieved results far beyond simple addition.

“Mmh.” His response was but a grunt. [Silent Meditation] worked wonders for accelerating his aether regeneration but made talking impossible.

Summoning another arc of lightning, the king stepped back to avoid getting scorched. His foot caught on something hard. Cursing, he broke his fall with a roll. Wiping the mud from his face, he lifted his head and froze—a corpse lay less than a meter away. The half-devoured torso of a young man had been what tripped him.

Using his sword for support, Prometheus rose and surveyed the battlefield. The elite of his army held the front, diverting the undead horde’s focus to relieve the thirty shields protecting his army. Behind them, siege engines, bows, rifles, and mages rained death upon the enemy ranks. For every one that fell, a hundred took their place. Prometheus shut his eyes for a moment and grimaced. Thirty-eight knights had fallen, and the battle was barely twenty minutes old.

Mourning the loss of comrades and the finest warriors protecting humanity, the king let loose a roar. He would unleash the full fury of the elements upon the undead.

*

Half an hour later, the penultimate aether shield shattered. Only one final barrier remained between his army and annihilation. Prometheus clenched his jaw. Breath ragged, his meridians close to rupturing, his aether reserves nearly drained, he feared for the men and women who followed him in this charnel house.

“My king, we must return to the capital!” Guandi shouted, slicing a monster clean in half.

“Our lands will die from the necromantic blight!”

“Better our lands than our people!”

Prometheus hesitated only a moment. His general was right. The battle was lost. If they stayed, they would be slaughtered to the last.

An abomination crashed down five meters behind him. A woman was riding the corpse, clinging to the handle of a dagger protruding from its skull to keep her balance. Extracting the blade, she jumped to the ground.

“If we flee, they’ll cut us down before we make it,” Gloria warned. The blood staining her robe was too black to be her own.

“I’ll hold them here,” Guandi declared.

“You’ll die.”

“We all die someday.” He met Prometheus’ gaze and grinned. “Go, Your Majesty.”

Before Prometheus could argue, a colossal silhouette parted the clouds. Its sheer presence drained the warriors of their will. Gloria murmured, “A dragon?”

“No,” Prometheus replied. “If it were, this planet would be lost. It’s a Duke.”

The beast landed, crushing smaller undead beneath it. In its crimson eyes blazed a hatred for life so pure it sent a chill through the king. One look was all it took for Prometheus to understand. It’s here for me. 

“Guandi, lead our army back to the capital.”

“My King—”

“My Lord, you can’t—”

“Your life is more—”

A flex of his Royal Aura silenced his knights. Bloodied and battle-worn, Prometheus still radiated majesty. Every soldier here had sworn their loyalty to him, and the fire in his eyes reminded them of their duty.

“Go.”

Gathering the wounded and burning the dead, the human forces retreated in under a minute. Meanwhile, the abominations stood still, observing in eerie silence as their leader prepared to execute the enemy king.

Once the last of his men had left the battlefield, Prometheus raised his sword. The hilt trembled before elongating. In a heartbeat, he wielded a long spear—perfect for piercing the chimera hide. The polymorphic weapon was the mythical reward he had claimed after conquering the fiftieth wave of the Colosseum. He had wrestled with the choice between it, the second life tattoo and the ring of ubiquity, but he had no regrets. A shapeshifting blade was perfect in the long run and personal strength was important in the System—doubly true for a leader.

Across from him, the necro Duke threw back its head and roared at the heavens. The storm clouds trembled, the earth quaked, and Prometheus leaped.

Micro, [Flash Leap], and [Wings of Wind] carried him across the battlefield in an instant. Blade Mastery and [Thunder Thrust] wreathed his lance in crackling energy, driving it effortlessly through the beast’s hide and into its heart.

Two masteries and three epic abilities should have ended the fight. But the enemy was undead.

The pseudo-drake fixed its baleful eyes on the human king and snapped its tail like a whip. Before Prometheus could react, a bone spike struck his chest at five times the speed of sound.

His body flew back at nearly the same speed, bouncing four times before slamming into the geomancers’ earthen rampart.

“Argh.” Prometheus coughed blood. Even with [Heroic Armor], [Spectral Plate], and [Knight Physique], he was at death’s door.

A tremor in the ground made him look up. His foe was closing in for the kill. Yet all Prometheus could think about was the Champion of Humanity. Priam was a Duke too. Was he stronger or weaker than this abomination? A grin spread across the king’s lips. The monster before him was terrifying, and yet it felt like it wouldn’t have even troubled the Juggernaut.

“He eludes death… and I refuse it so long as humanity still needs me.”

On each of his forearms, a tattoo came to life. Chains of Prometheus was a mythical mutation earned in the Colosseum—the relic of the bonds that once shackled the immortal titan, condemned by Zeus to have his liver devoured daily by an eagle for gifting fire to humanity.

Inked chains burrowed into his elbows, carving through his flesh in agony until they reached his liver. As searing pain consumed the king, his consciousness ascended—bordering the divine. 

Agony was the price of epiphany. He who fought for humanity received the blessing of a Myth.

With the ease of a celestial titan, Prometheus wielded Micro far above his actual Tier to restore his body and sprang to his feet. Opening his soul to aether, he probed his adversary, located its core, and readied his arm.

[Royal Edict].

“By my decree—I sentence you to death.”

A perfect throw drove the royal spear through hide and muscle, burying it deep into the necromantic fulcrum of the Duke. The weapon flared, delivering the king’s judgment—and the abomination froze.

Ignoring his notifications, Prometheus stepped forward to retrieve his spear as the beast collapsed. A hand pressed against his abdomen, failing to suppress the agony of his liver being devoured. His affinity for his mutation notwithstanding, the curse of his namesake was inescapable.

“I’ve got about a minute left… More than enough time to thin out this horde,” Prometheus muttered, facing the undead.

A shriek answered him. Masterless once more, the monsters surged forward. 

The lone king smiled.

*

Status: 

PHYSICAL:
Strength 915
Constitution 1 589 (+7)
Agility 1 256
Vitality 1 474 (+6)
Perception 881 

MENTAL:
Vivacity (D) 634
Dexterity 787
Memory 972
Willpower 1 208
Charisma 888 

META:
Meta-affinity (O) 1 103
Meta-focus 633
Meta-endurance 1 094
Meta-perception 558
Meta-chance 667
Meta-authority 521 (+5) 

Potential: 27 214 (+5)
Tier 0

Sun points: 1 143 444 

[He Who Eludes Death] charge: PRIMED.

Concepts:

• Breath (T0): 100% / Harmony

• Fire (T0): 100% / Unity

• Pyro (T1): 100% / Unity

• Mist (T1): 100% / Symphony

Bloodlines:

• Phoenix: 3%

• Dragon: 2%

Rewards standing: 

• Fusion Token - Skill (Epic) 

• Evolution Token - Skill (Legendary)

• Affinity Token - Tier 1 (30%)

• Alien Concept fragment (7th Terror)

• Talent Token - Upgrade (Seraph)

• Revelation Token - Ideal Prerequisites (Epic)

• Colosseum VIP Token

• Reborn Token - Reset biological lifespan (Legendary) 

• Minor skill Epiphany

• Seed of Potential

• Trophy Compass

[Tribulation]: Two Tribulations pending.
Future Tribulations delayed until:
Time: 29 days 20 hours 35 minutes 57 seconds.
Next thresholds: 12 attributes > 900 / 6 attributes > 1 200 / 1 attribute > 1 800

*

Next post will be the end of the Trib.

The part about Prometheus was a way for me to show that not only Priam will benefit from the Colosseum/the System. It's important for the next chap.