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The Apocalypse Grinder - Chapter 316
🕑 Added 2025-12-04 23:11:46 +0000 UTC<< Chapter 315 | Index | Chapter 317 >>
The savage slicer cut into Lord Rockmore’s chest with ease, drawing a stream of blood that dripped down the white shirt he wore. Ironically, the wound the sword carved into the bastard was a clean cut, the polar opposite of its name.
I guess all that work wasn’t for nothing. This thing wouldn’t last more than a few attacks against something like those kaijus, but it’s certainly fantastic for short term battling. The only issue is that I feel like my conjured weapons are still far superior, so perhaps I’m wasting my time getting good at forging? Maybe I should just figure out how to improve my conjurations? It was an odd dilemma, but Ronan knew he would eventually figure things out. Learning how to craft would never be a waste of time. His conjured weapons actually benefited from the small things he learnt during the time spent in the Survivalist’s Portable Forge.
Ronan watched the blood fall. He was satisfied with his progress, but the nagging feeling that it had been a waste of time was still there. He realised that perhaps focusing on making quality armour would be better, as he was currently unable to conjure any defensive gear, with the exception of small shields.
Whatever the case, he had satisfied his ego and tested his blade. It was time to leave. He turned to walk out and felt something prodding at his mind. It slid off like water on a slick surface, and Ronan’s gaze immediately snapped to Vulparis. “Don’t try it. I’m happy to let you take the pillar if you don’t meddle with my mind, fox.” He could have killed the boss, but he wasn’t interested in it right now. Whatever the case, he would quickly find out what happened in the second phase of the integration.
At that moment the fox took a step from its resting place. It weaved through the legs of the various beings it had under its control and then leapt onto the shoulder of one of the elf-like creatures. It cocked its head and stared at Ronan. He saw the intelligence behind the glowing eyes; knew that it understood him. Before submitting, however, it was judging him. He had resisted its first attempt, so it was wondering just how powerful he was.
Then a few seconds later it snorted and returned to the base of the tree. It laid its head down to rest, one eye open, staring at Ronan as he turned to leave the boss tower. Now I want to try taming it at least once. A fluffy fox as a pet would be pretty cool, right?
After leaving the tower behind, Ronan held up the savage slicer and observed it. The weapon had cut well, but he felt it was still lacking something. In his other hand, he conjured an identical blade made from pure mana. His accumulated knowledge and experience were poured into the blade, forming a shimmering weapon of condensed magical power. Ronan raised both blades, and then swung them into one another.
There was a flash of sparks as the magical met the mundane, both weapons testing their edge against the other. Ronan watched the clash with rapt interest, but he knew the outcome from the moment he had swung. The shimmering blue blade cut into the metal as though it were shearing through wood, and the savage slicer was carved into two pieces. The sharp end clattered against the ground, and Ronan let the useless handle fall from his hand. He stared at the destroyed blade and let out a deep sigh of exasperation.
All that effort for nothing.
Well, maybe not nothing. I suppose I learned a lot and my conjured weapons are a lot better thanks to what I gained. Not to mention all the mastery gains I made along the way. And it was pretty fun to watch Rockmore helpless in the hands of the Trickster. Ronan turned to look back up at the tower. He wasn’t quite done with this iteration yet. He wanted to wait and see what would happen when the second phase started. Information was important. However, he wouldn’t just be sitting on his laurels and wasting time waiting for it to happen. He had a tree to visit.
Ronan found the overgrown park where he had first met the Tellen Serenaeth 7 with ease. His memory was able to perfectly recall everywhere he’d been at his level of intelligence, or possibly acuity, or both. He didn’t know which mental stats were responsible for which portions of his mental capacity. The park resembled a wild forest rather than the manicured green space it had been before the integration. London had always been a green city, but the integration and subsequent terraforming seemed to have taken everything to an extreme.
After making his way through the trees and noting the overwhelming amount of small rodents, insects, and birds living inside, that he’d missed the first time he had been there, Ronan found his way to the grove where the gigantic tree he had gone to visit grew.
The moment he entered its telepathic range he felt something brushing over his mind. It felt dangerous, but not invasive. Unlike the Trickster, who used its magic to invade people’s consciousness and bend them to its will, the Tellen was simply becoming aware of an intruder in its grove and assessing whether Ronan was a threat. He was, but not to the tree.
The presence suddenly swelled and blossomed before retreating from his mind. He relaxed and took a step forward when a voice suddenly sounded out. He was surprised at the shocked and urgent tone the thoughts carried. Why do you possess my mark-bond!?
Ronan paused. He hadn’t expected the first reaction to be the tree immediately realising he still had its mark from a previous iteration. He didn’t even have time to comprehend the implications of a soul bond given by another being persisting through his death, when another thought came through.
You are one of them. The Chronos.
That stunned him. His mind reeled. How had a random tree that supposedly originated in a different part of the universe heard of his clan? How did it know that he was part of the Chronos Clan simply by entering his presence? Then the fear crept in. What if he was exposed to the system and it realised how he had been manipulating it through his many lives. Then he relaxed. He couldn’t change what had happened, only how he dealt with it. It wasn’t as though the tree would have a bad impression of his clan, so he decided to just see how the conversation went before jumping to silencing it.
He began by testing the waters. What do you mean by that?
A pause. He stared up at the gigantic tree, imposing even amongst the already oversized trees that littered the grove.
Then it replied. The Chronos Clan. Those who exist beyond time, and manipulate it freely to nurture their offspring. We have met two of your kind before. Neither were granted the honour of becoming a disciple-bond-student, however, and I am curious as to how you managed it. It is strange, feeling the intimacy of this connection with a complete stranger. It is irregular. It is wrong, yet even without the knowledge of why, I trust my own decision making. Tell me the story of how you acquired the mark.
Ronan knew then that the tree knew exactly what he was. How a tree had met and become aware of two members of his clan was a story he would like to hear. He personally had only met one, and Azathere had died. If there were more members of the Chronos Clan out there in the multiverse Ronan wanted to meet them, if only so that he could learn more about the organisation he had unwillingly become a part of.
To be honest, you probably know more about the Chronos Clan than I do. I only became aware of my… heritage… recently. How did you meet two other members of my clan? I have only met one, and he was a bit eccentric.
It is ancient history, and yet recent. I personally have never met any of your kind, until now I suppose. And if I attempt to look at things from your… unique chronological perspective, it would be our second meeting, judging from your reaction. Adoralith 3 was the first of our kind to encounter a member of your clan. Azathere the Timeless destroyed an Outsider that was attempting to breach reality inside our world, saving it from a fate worse than extinction. He is revered amongst us for that epic feat. That was before Serenaeth 1 came into being. Before my own memory. But even Azathere’s feat paled in comparison to what the other Chronos descendant did for our kind.
Ronan could tell this was a story he wanted to hear. Learning of the feats of his predecessors made him excited to hear what he might potentially be able to do in future.
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