EmEs_etherious
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Chapter 115- Who Am I?
🕑 Added 2023-11-27 00:55:05 +0000 UTCOkay guys. I made a mistake in the order of chapter postings and I'm very sorry. This chapter was supposed to be released before the previous one so you'd all get a nice fight with no interruptions. Interludes in-between fights are one of my biggest pet-peeves. Unfortunately, because of my mis ordering of chapters, You'll have to suffer for 48 hours till Tuesday when the next chapter will come out and start the fight proper. The only consolation is that the hydra fight hasn't truly begun yet. I'm very sorry for this, but there's no way I can wait the number of chapters till this locus floor ends to release this chapter.
The delay in this weeks chapter is also something I'd like to apologise for, but it was caused by IRL events that were out of my control. I had cousins visit from abroad because they were in the country for one reason or the other. Cousins I didn't even know existed might I add. Things were obviously very hectic where we had to entertain them and fulfill guest rights to the best of our ability. They've gone now, so things should be back to normal. Sorry for that, but I couldn't have seen it coming at all.
Chapter Begin----->
~ Earth’s Moon~
Larthorn stood on the small grey ball of rock Earth called its moon and looked down on the blue marble his friend Marcell had told him of. He’d done a little reading up on it on the journey here. It was a planet made up primarily of water, with only a single sapient species, humanity.
He knew humans, at least a little. One of his three men who had died retrieving the dark phoenix guild's training orb had a human mother. Or perhaps it was a grandmother. He wasn't entirely sure. They were a weak race, or as one would diplomatically say, on the lower end of average, only gaining a base five stats per level before unlocking classes that tended towards the mediocre.
The only selling point of the race was how diverse their affinities for ether were, and even then, said affinities were barely entry-level when compared to the more magical races in the cosmos. All this being said, they were given a universal standard Rating (USR) of 3.9/10, which was honestly quite generous in his opinion. Apparently, their rating had gone up by .3 points in the last century in lieu of General Edwards Bladesworn's contributions on the front lines. Exaggerated as the reports were, he’d apparently fought three crazed apocalypse beasts that had fallen to chaos to a standstill and thus saved the lives of seven stellar systems.
Hmph. Maybe I should've gone to the frontlines instead of starting my excavation squad. Who knows, I might’ve raised the Dothra's USR a bit.
The Anunkai had apparently broken a few system laws when it came to Earth and meddled a little too much with its history. The people involved had been sanctioned and used to power a defensive ritual of some sort, at least according to the reports he'd read, but Larthorn knew the nobles behind the debacle walked free.
They always did.
The ether density on the moon was barely even tier 1 and he could feel the toll it took on his ether core as it worked overtime to sustain his existence in the energy desert he was currently in. His team members stood behind him, warily silent as he read through the latest notifications he’d received. They’d all received one.
Attention, you are currently in a tier-4 investigation zone Lord Larthorn. Earth has been locked off from all space visitors. All personnel beyond the level 300 barrier are barred from visitation rights.
That was the first message he'd gotten, barebones in detail and vague as ever. The second one he’d received was far more personal.
Sorry for that, Larthorn. Earth's tutorial was infiltrated by one of the Harvester's agents. We can feel his influence on seven humans on the planet. We’ve got people monitoring the world to make sure he can’t leave. This is the closest we’ve come to finding the man in the last three decades and we can’t let him get away.
I’ve heard what you're trying to do from Marcell, but you’ll have to wait. I really am sorry. I feel bad for the poor bastards though. They’ve got a dimensional incursion on the edge of tier one coming, practically tier two but they’ll receive no extra help. There's no law stating we have to help them, but still, millions will die.
Your best friend with benefits, Lady Sleyca.
PS- Don’t do anything stupid and DON’T try to play hero. We know how that ended last time.
Larthorn read through the message and grimaced. We don’t want it to end like last time, huh? This was bullshit. He’d spent an earl's-ransom worth of resources to get here in record time, all at the advice of his best friend and he could’ve avoided it all if he hadn't put his messages on silent for the transit period. He read through the message that had been made available for viewing immediately as he’d arrived in the solar system for the umpteenth time and felt his eyebrow twitch.
Don’t blame me for this, it's your fault for putting DM’s on silent. Earth's a dead end. Apparently, they found a harvester agent or something there. I’ve already taken my disciples out and left the stellar system pronto, and I advise you to do the same until things cool down. I know you won’t listen to me, but please don’t do something stupid and DON’T try to play hero. You represent the school and you’ve dragged our reputation through the mud enough already.
Marcell.
Ps. Don’t ask me to pay you back for the resources you wasted on transit. It’s your fault for not reading your messages on time. You should've got this a month ago.
His eyebrow twitched again. He wanted to punch something, but the weak moon wouldn’t survive any movements he made in rage. Earth had enough to worry about right now without their moon suddenly exploding. Larthorn looked back at his teammates. None of them met his gaze and most of them were struggling not to laugh. Azmius broke first, she started to giggle and set off a chain reaction, until everyone joined in. She’d told him not to turn off his private messages and always warned him that sleeping around with so many women would come back to bite him in his ass. He’d turned off his messages to get away from them for a bit. Less than a fucking month, and it cost him the profits he’d made in the last three years. Why am I always so impatient? I could’ve waited a little bit. Travelled a cheaper way, and saw the sights a little on the way here. Heck, I could’ve just taken the orb somewhere else.
Was this fate? Nope. His stupid decisions had brought him here, nothing else. Still, he looked back at the planet, specifically at the massive gathering of ether that signalled a ritual dimensional incursion. System law stated that a planet should face them on its own, as long as they were of the relevant tier. Sleyca had said it was pushing the boundary of tier 1, a hair's breadth away from the second tier.
She was wrong.
Her team had observed the planet using a derivative of divination magic of some sort of the other. No way would they ever physically enter a tier 1 stellar system. He was here in person, and he’d bet his training orb that it wasn’t a tier 1 ritual. Something about it was strange, different in a way that confused the senses. He did know one thing though. The planet was NOT ready for it, especially not with a Harvester's agent running around, meddling with things.
“Hey Boe, you’ve got a clone skill right?” He called back to his general advisor.
“Oh shit,” the man muttered.
“You can create one below the level 300 mark right?” He asked.
Boe nodded his head, dejectedly. He knew where his captain was going with this and he didn’t like it one bit. Larthorn clapped his hands. “Excellent,” he exclaimed. Fuck his friends. He didn’t need their shitty advice. Playing hero. Him? No way. Why do the work when you could send someone else to do the job? And hey, he wasn’t even breaking any law this way. Technically at least.
~Mira~
Mira was going to die.
She knew it as certainly as she did that the sun would rise tomorrow. As much as Ayesha had told her otherwise, with her fancy divination mage, she knew it was inevitable. She’d known something was wrong for a long, long time. It was why she’d tried so hard to get stronger, sought the help of Arthur Ward and taken so many risks to get a stronger evolution.
That was something she still felt bad about. They’d gotten off on the wrong foot and she was mature to admit that it was her fault. Their first meeting had gone terribly. She’d seen the pride and dominion of his aura and so steeled herself and put forward a similar front by charming his friends. That hadn’t gone over well, neither had the manipulation she’d tried on him later. Things had ended fine enough, and she’d gotten what she’d wanted at the end of it.
Tomorrow marked a week since she’d last seen him. According to Ayesha, he’d gone somewhere to train and would return in time for their scheduled payment, where she would teach him her alchemy skills. She wouldn’t live long enough to make it there.
A choked sob threatened to leave her lips but she stopped herself. Mira had made her choice, she’d created her bed and now she was going to lie in it. It was the best decision she could have made, for better than the alternative. The only choice really. It was better to die herself than live on as a shadow, a fragment of who she was.
It had started with her memories a few days into the tutorial. She hadn’t realised at first; the novelty of ether and magic was enough to distract her from the missing parts of her history. When she noticed something, she chalked it up to the high stress of the situation making her forget things. That excuse had worked for a while and shattered like fragile glass when she’d forgotten her dead daughter's name.
Mira remembered her face, taking her pram for a stroll through the park, the endless nights her crying had kept her awake, the way her face would light up and her cheeks dimple when she smiled, the way she called her mama in her squeaky voice. She remembered everything, every last detail.
But she’d forgotten her name.
And then she’d met Arthur and sought out a powerful evolution in the hopes it would heal her failing mind. If anything, it had only made things worse. She’d started to lose her stats, her skills slowly disappearing one by one from her status page. It was maddening, every day she’d wake up less of herself. She’d stopped sleeping after the second time it happened, too afraid that the next time she woke, she’d no longer even remember what she had lost.
It had been four days since then and she’d been abusing elixirs to keep herself from sleeping. That hadn’t worked either. The problem ailing her wasn’t natural, she’d asked around and consulted healers who specialised in the mind, therapists who worked with trauma patients. Nothing had worked. She’d realised then that she wasn’t losing things. They were being stolen from her.
The feeling was far more pronounced now, a pervasive insidious invasion on her person that was slowly taking her apart, stealing the things that made her who she was. Her very identity, harvested for the sick pleasure of someone she couldn’t even remember meeting. And so she’d come here today to die as the remnants of who she was before she lost anything else.
In her hand, she clenched her final creation, an elixir that she hoped would settle the balance a little and maybe, just maybe help her get her revenge. The flask came from Ayesha, created with a crystal known for its nigh-indestructible nature. On it was a spatial enchantment that would teleport the item to Ayesha when it was complete where it would then be saved for Arthur's return to be given to him.
The man she hoped would become strong enough to kill whatever had done this to her. Mira looked down at the flask and identified it with the only skill she had remaining, now returned to the base level 1 she’d received it at, free from all the work and enhancements she’d poured into it.
Mira's Will (Legendary). The final work of poison Alchemist Mira Merejan, created with the sacrifice of her stats, skills, affinities and a large portion of her life force. Violates several laws placed on Alchemists by the system.
Effect: Grants the consumer an extra general skill slot and the general skill Poisoned Alchemy (Rare)
Note: A repetition of this effect will be impossible without an elixir of the Ascendant rank and most souls will be unable to take a second enhancement even then.
Secondary effect: Generates the title Mira's Will- (Increases Willpower stat by 10%) This title will only be generated if the consumer is below level 150.
Side effects: Will cause severe stomach aches and diarrhoea.
It was her greatest creation, an item worth more to many than the very planet it had originated from. It was also her last. Legendary rank items were as rare as planets with life in the universe and statistics stated it would be the first and last item of such rarity that Earth probably ever generated. If she sold it, she might just find a way to save her life but she’d decided against that. The person who lived that life wouldn’t be the her that existed right now, wouldn’t be the young woman who’d created life and cherished it for the moments she was gifted with its presence. She had few things left to lose now, her name amongst them.
No, she had decided to die today as Mira Merejan.
The item in her hand was practically complete and she poured the little lifeforce required to finish it into the elixir. With a quiet pop, the vial disappeared, the teleportation enhancement placed on it activating as she gave it the go-ahead. Her job was done. It’d find its way into the right hands or it wouldn’t. There was nothing she could do about it now. She’d arrived at her destination, a place she could no longer remember. Her notes stated it was where Arthur had power-levelled her a week ago. I guess it's poetic, the beginning and the end. It started here in this clearing and it’ll finish here too. A low growl pulled her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see a massive deer standing before her, electricity cracking between its antlers. It felt familiar but she couldn’t remember why.
Maddening.
Elemental deer level 49
A beast she would have scoffed at a week ago. Now she stood before it, an ordinary woman, weaker than she’d ever been, near stat-less. She pulled out a large knife from the scabbard at her hip, an item she’d found in her house, a purchase from some inspired craftsman of some sort. It was an impossible fight, hardly a fight at all. A cynical person would call it assisted suicide. Perhaps she too, once would have before she'd forgotten who she was.
But she would fight.
And she would lose.
She smiled.
She would die as Mira Merejan.
