Path of the Slayer B3 60. Veteran Quests & Scary Predators

I sat back while Merlin raged for ten minutes. I didn’t blame him. Combining powers from our Path Magic was already unheard of. Combining four that were Rare Quality to make one enormous power that was Epic Quality was so absurd it sounded fictional.

I had a hunch about why this was happening to me. It had something to do with my blackouts and being a nomad, enabling me to slip past certain parameters after extreme exposures to stress and success, making my life as a Slayer a massive catalyst.

My nomadic plans for my party were more paramount than ever.

“How does it feel?” Thumper asked quietly after Merlin settled down.

“I haven’t used it yet,” I answered. “But the knowledge of having this power is incredible. Predator Storm is going to be a game changer for me. Then there’s Storm God Force and the other skill evolutions. All of those are scarily significant. Overpowered, indeed.”

My core was already filled with power inside my midsection. All of my vibrant gates spun with more enthusiasm than before. My warlock nature felt more assured.

Even without Hellion being summoned, my cursedness remained. The madness was probably contained deep in my mind where all my knowledge of hell runes waited.

What would it take for me to trigger One-Man Genocide? I was excited for the wrong group to draw my ire.

“Honestly, Arden, you’ll be the scariest with the Spirit Blaze,” Thumper admitted.

“YES!” Grimmy shrieked.

“You’ll literally die!” Merlin grouched.

“But here’s the thing though.” I paused, building suspense, before hitting Merlin with my classic line. “I’ll Keep Going.”

After my Epiphany’s resonance faded, Merlin sighed aloud, slumping into his seat. “As much as you piss me off, I’m still happy for you. The juniors told us about their gains. Each of them got a Great Skill and some Levels, pushing them up to the 90s. But that’s about it. I don’t think most people can hang with us at this point, and I’m okay with that.”

We fell into heavy silence. All the excitement, thrill, and outrage about our new powers wasn’t easy to enjoy when considering the losses. Yet, it was Grimmy who straightened up and put a smile on her face.

“We should still celebrate! To honor the living and the dead! They’ll want that. Syleth, Marnarka, Brug, and Noodles.” Grimmy scanned all of us with her gaze settling on me last. “We have to be strong for them, right, Master Arden? We must be strong!”

Seeing her like that emboldened me. “You’re right, Grimmy. We have to be strong.”

“Hear, hear,” Thumper murmured.

“Cheers,” Merlin agreed.

Grimmy nodded, a sunny light glowing from her outline. The power of her Oath held Doomie’s attention like a child beholding a sunrise.

“Onto the next,” I said. “Levels. Call them out.”

Grimmy went first. Path of the Little Fighter: Level 101!

Merlin went next. Path of the Owl: Level 101! Path of the Dragon: Level 101!

Then Thumper. Path of the Perfect Rogue: Level 101!

Finally, me.

[Congrats! Path of the Slayer leveled up! 96 to 101!]

[Congratulations, Pathwalker! You’ve reached the Level for Veterans! You cannot proceed any further until you’ve passed the Veteran Placement Quest!]

[Please call out to the Realm Verse System when you’re ready to start your Veteran Placement Quest! Ensure that you are in a meditative position of your choosing. Ensure that you are safe for the next twenty-four hours. The Veteran Placement Quest is internal. You can use nothing but yourself.]

“Okay. There we are. That’s all of us. Freaking aye.” Merlin put away his smoking pipe and looked up at the starry ceiling. “It’s hard to believe we actually did it this fast, even with the Soul Damage. But here we are.”

“Yeah.” Thumper nodded.

“Yay!” Grimmy chirped.

After we spent a moment soaking in our achievement, I guided my party in working out a plan. We ended up calling everybody into my room. By then, I had the entire dining table covered in food from the sanctum, all of it still fresh.

Once everybody sat down, I extended my hand and used Slayer Feast again. I was much stronger now, and my Vibrant Cultivator Core made it easier to pump out intense magic. That and Slayer Feast only cost me 80% of my Path Energy now that I was Level 101.

“Is this our celebration?” Redfang asked, teary-eyed.

By this point, I was more dressed up while still casual. “No. This is just food. The celebration will begin after we get through our Veteran Placement Quests.”

“You want me and Zez to watch over you?” Sharia asked, holding back from ripping into the nearest steamy platter.

“Yes, and I want you to watch over the rest of the squad.” I turned to look at Redfang, Kroker, Weaver, and Velira. “Until you four are in transit to your next location, you’re still my responsibility. And it’s been made to my awareness we’re in the political viper pit.”

“I’m going to have wrinkles before I’m made a husband,” Weaver complained.

“It’ll be alright, darling. We’ll make it to my home. We just have to endure further.” Velira patted Weaver’s arm.

“It’ll be wiser to have you four as Veterans before we make any moves,” Kroker said. “This is all a part of the God-Dragoness’s plan. Our belief must hold firm.”

“Go, go, go squad!” Redfang cheered, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Four more Veterans of the Realm Verse! You guys are gonna be so strong!”

I smiled. “Then let’s dine in before we get to it.”

We feasted. Despite the pain of our losses, the pleasure from my magic-enriched food helped soothe us all. It didn’t wipe out the pain. But it made all our souls stronger and more durable. That led to more tears flowing freely. I didn’t cry, but I held a respectful vigilance when some others did.

Regardless of our short time, the violence and extraordinary lives we Pathwalkers lived could lead to bonds forging faster and with more intensity than expected. That, and we could feel the absence of our fallen. It was like having four spaces with nothing but the void where Syleth, Marnarka, Brug, and Noodles should be.

I seriously need to do the nomad ceremony for my party, I thought silently to myself.

Once we finished feasting and releasing our pain, we were ready for the next stage. Grimmy, Merlin, Thumper, and I chose opposing corners in my bedroom where we sat in the Seiza Position. I waited as the others called out to the System.

“I’m ready for the Veteran Placement Quest,” said Merlin.

“Let’s go do this thing. Place me,” said Thumper.

“I want to become a Veteran and honor my master!” shouted Grimmy.

Once they all committed, they instantly fell still, silent. An otherworldly magic rippled around them with sparkles of golden divinity. The Realm Verse System was filling my room with the presence of the God-Queen.

I noticed Veteran Sharia and Veteran Zez watching that keenly while the juniors looked with open awe.

Then, just as I was about to embark on my Veteran Placement Quest, a loud knock on the door resounded. A boisterous voice came through from the other side.

“The young mistress has waited long enough! She demands to see Arden the Nomad now, or they’ll be trouble to pay!”

Veteran Sharia was one second away from crashing through the door and breaking the man’s neck. I raised my hand sharply, and she turned to me, anticipating my order.

It didn’t escape my notice that both Sharia and Zez were more attentive to my needs than ever before. I hoped that it would remain a temporary arrangement. They’d done more than enough for me.

“I’ll see our hostess,” I said. “It shouldn’t take long.”

***

“Thirty trillion credits,” said a finely dressed half-dragon woman.

She hadn’t even told me her name when I stepped into a spacious chamber that looked more like a big dueling arena instead of a place for meeting guests. The ground was enchanted, hard-packed sand. The walls had myriad bluish runes and circles covering their surfaces, the Aether sharp and electric to my senses.

The hostess stood in the center, an elegant young noble adorned in the robes of the Dragon Supremacy, her hair fashioned into a large bun with two golden sticks running through it in a cross-pattern. With eyes finely painted in scarlet mascara, she looked at me like I was something to be bought and sold.

The one hundred men and women in the dueling chamber seemed to have accepted that as their reality. They were all Veterans, mostly Epics with a few Legendaries in the mix. All of them between Level 115 and Level 130 from what I could tell by feeling alone.

It was a good thing I took my belt back from Doomie.

She was staying in my room with the others. She could do that now, move about separately from me.

“Thirty trillion is yours if you disappear far away from the Grand Generational Passing,” the young mistress declared.

“No,” I said, rolling my neck around. Then my shoulders.

The hostess glowered at me. “You are a threat to my position. Only so few can be close to the Dragon Princess. How can I make my way to the Grand Generational Passing and allow you to go free?”

“I didn’t know I was going there,” I lied. “But even if I were, I’m not someone you can buy so easily.”

“Do not kid yourself. We know the truth! We know who you really are!” She thrust her sharpened nail at me. “And we know where you’re destined to be! Take this offer. One hundred trillion credits. And begone! You’ll never find such kindness elsewhere.”

I nearly stopped warming up.

If she knew I was on Path of the Slayer, then wouldn’t that mean that others would know as well? Should I kill her and everyone in this room? Or was it too late? I might just kill them all anyway if this was how I failed my Divine Quest.

The young mistress kept yapping. “You don’t believe me, Ninja King?”

That nearly threw me for a loop. Warrior Nomad Mentality kept me sharp and outwardly unaffected.

Rescinding my murderous rage, I kept warming up my limbs and bouncing around. “What makes this such a kindness other than the credits? Also, I believe one hundred trillion credits is one quadrillion credits. Were you trying to sound impressive with that offer?”

The hostess’s finely plucked and scaled eyebrow twitched. “There is a real chance that the Dragon Princess will consume you, in the flesh and on the Path. I’m saving you from an ugly demise and paying you, Ninja King!”

That was twice now she called me Ninja King instead of the Slayer. That was good to hear, but it also had me curious.

“Why do you keep calling me Ninja King?”

She laughed. “Path of the Ninja King! We all know the truth now! To think you would expose yourself so boldly while a month away from the Grand Generational Passing. It is fortunate that I am kinder than most. I’m giving you a chance to disappear and be paid for it, like a true Ninja King!”

I chuckled internally. While my alias as an Artificer Warrior was ending, I was glad Ninja King replaced it. Still, that meant my true Path as the Slayer was getting closer to resurfacing.

I was running out of time.

I needed more time.

“Give me your strongest,” I said. “Let me show you I have no intention of backing off.”

“I can have them all attack you now!” the hostess threatened.

“Do that, and the negative karma would be horrible. You are my host after all. Do you really want to bear that turn of bad karma? Present me your strongest instead. Let’s settle this now.”

She growled, all spite and pettiness. She turned and snapped toward the strongest man in the dueling chamber: Legendary, Level 130-something.

He was human. Dark-skinned like me, but not a nomad. Buzz cut hair. Square jaw. He gave me a mean mug like none of my accomplishments mattered.

Strangely, I felt offended.

Hadn’t I proven myself against the Embassy of Defilement? Wasn’t my success with Melody’s suicidal Royal Quest enough? Shouldn’t he act more wary? More respectful?

Great Skill activated: Warrior Nomad–

I cut off the skill.

This wasn’t a fight between warriors. This was a joke that was going to become my opponent’s nightmare, one that grew scarier as I swapped out my simple prosthetic for Hellion Boss Shredder. Then, I summoned Stormcannon Dominator Armor to encase my entire body.

The damage from the prior fight remained, making me look even more ghoulish and savage. I had 1220% Path Energy, and I burned some of it, summoning Slaughterhouse Avatar (Version [1]). The phantom howled manically, voice echoing like a wraith in a long metal hall.

Her chain-wreathed form disturbed the observers. The disrespect from my opponent lost some of its edge. He glanced quickly at his young mistress as she quickly announced the preamble leading up to the actual duel. I barely listened as I dropped from 1180% to 1140% with the activation of Predator Storm.

My passive skill, Storm God Force, blasted to the forefront immediately, and all I felt was power. Overwhelming, overpowering, outlandish power!

A thunderous roar erupted from my throat with the volume of thousands and thousands of mighty predators. Dense stalks of lightning coursed through my veins! Lightning filled every fiber of my being. Waves of magnetism flowed around my armor and strummed across my flesh. Every metal object in the chamber and beyond rattled violently, nearly tearing out of the scabbards, holsters, rings, and grips of their owners.

Then there were the flashing colors, all magnetic lights ranging from green to blue to purple to red. My storminess and electromagnetic nature ignited the air with richly intense plasma, to where even the enchanted floor became incandescent from the sheer heat and volatility. The heat and light itself was no bother to me. It was all a byproduct of the intense, unforgiving, nearly uncontrollable power that filled me to the brim and beyond.

A power that I wanted to unleash with one satisfying hit.

“ARE YOU READY FOR ME TO HIT YOU?” I roared, my voice like the tumultuous thunder of a godly storm! It filled the entire chamber, pressing oppressively on everyone, rattling them like they were mere mortals, making a hundred Veterans shake on their feet or fall to their knees. “PREPARE YOURSELF!”

“Please say yes!” howled Hellion. “Please let us hit you! Just one punch will do it!”

Slaughter screeched louder with maniacal laughter from behind me.

Dominator hummed eagerly from all over my armor, enjoying the taste of mayhem.

“Wait, wait, maybe we should talk this through,” said my opponent. “Young mistress! Can’t we reconsider?!”

“No! You’re Legendary and Level 133! Do not embarrass me! Now fight!” cried the Young Mistress.

I flew forth at Mach 6, straining my armor, pushing Dominator to the limits while still seeking mine. My crimson metal fist landed flush on his chest before my opponent could react. All of his Legendary Path Energy gathered on the spot, stopping me from plowing straight through.

But that was about it.

His feet left the ground. His back hit the wall an instance later, stressing the enchanted barriers until an EMP blast struck the entire chamber as a byproduct of my punch. The barriers flickered off, and the Legendary Level 133 Veteran kept plowing through, leaving the chamber. A wake of destruction followed him, multiple walls collapsing from his nonstop flight.

Then the sound of my flight and strike caught up with a crack-SMASH-boom!

The Young Mistress shrieked, falling over. She was only a Level 101 Legendary, Level Locked. A Veteran who was far too weak to satisfy my madness, my rage, my wanton lust for destruction and domination. When she regained part of her composure and looked up, I stood over her, holding back my maddening power.

It was like I held cosmic storms inside of me, and every bolt of lightning and wave of magnetism wanted to unleash themselves. I couldn’t stop from turning the floor under my feet incandescent with heat, my body wreathed in colorful plasma, twisting smoke, crackling magnetic bolts, and clamoring thunder that sounded like a horde of dinosaurs.

Truly, I was the Predator Storm.

“Please don’t hurt me!” She held her arms over her head and sobbed.

“DON’T HURT MY PEOPLE!” I roared, my voice all thunder and fury. I tried to regulate it to a normal conversational range. I couldn’t. So, I spoke at my lowest volume, which was still painfully loud for everyone else. “Let them be! Let me be! That’s it!”

“Yes! Of course! I won’t act foolish. I understand!” she cried. “This has been an amazing lesson for me! Surely, you are more fit to serve the Dragon Princess at the Grand Generational Passing. I shall move on to other endeavors!”

I didn’t trust her, but her fear of me should hold her back for now.

As for the remaining Veterans, I turned to catch them closing in on me.

Most of them were sweating profusely and unable to stop shaking with terror.

“Strange,” I growled. “For some reason … it wouldn’t be surprising if I crushed all of you! I’m not even a Veteran! Yet, I’m confident of the outcome! Shall we test that out?!”

“Don’t hurt our young mistress,” one woman said shakily. “Then we don’t have to test anything.”

“That depends on all of you,” I growled.

They backed off one step. Finding that satisfactory, I turned and exited the chamber, my every stride booming, thundering, filled with power that left plasma and crackling static in my wake.

The moment I rounded the corner and was out of sight, I turned off multiple powers and nearly collapsed to the floor. If it weren’t for Slayer Feast, I wouldn’t have been able to stay standing.

I almost wanted to laugh.

I could barely handle myself as I was now. Predator Storm and Storm God Force were already too intense together! Lump that with my other overlapping powers and I couldn’t help but feel scared.

What the hell would happen to me if I ever achieved Spirit Blaze?!

Nevermind that for now, I thought with a toothy grin as I limped back to my room. Go become a Veteran. Figure out the rest later.