Path of the Slayer B3 1. Reflect & Inspect

“I’ve come a long way,” I said to my reflection. “A long, long way.”

No armor.

No helmet.

For the first time in a long time, since the days my old guild treated me as a pariah, I was dressed to impress.

I wasn’t waking up in my ratty bed in a slummy dwelling. My mind wasn’t plagued with stress from my inability to Rank Up beyond Rank 0.

There was no tightness in my chest. I wasn’t clenching my jaw until they creaked from sheer frustration, from oppressive Suppression, from being called a bronze adventurer loser to my face.

I wasn’t that weakling boy anymore.

I was a rising god with a secret that could flip the entire Realm Verse.

I had potential enemies from above and below. I had enemies in every nook and cranny who would want my head once they knew the truth.

And I had thirteen people I was yanking with me on a doomed course, to the bowels of hell and to the peaks of heaven.

I knew two of them for nearly half a year. I’d only known ten of them this week, and not even the full week. One more was going to join us soon, squading up for a big Quest with little to no subtlety.

[Major Dragon Princess Royal Quest initiated: This isn’t just a replacement, it’s an entirely new mandate, and a big one at that. You need not be sneaky or too political. Go wreck the Embassy of Defilement at the bottom floors of the Crossroads Citadel World Realm.]

[You can achieve this either by: [1] Killing 80 Pathwalkers (above Level 61) on Path of the Defiled Covenant. [2] Killing 4 Defiled Covenant Veterans. [3] Causing over 60% destructive damage to the Embassy of Defilement, their citadel headquarters.]

[Achieving one of these objectives will satisfy this Royal Quest and earn you the basic reward. Achieving two will double the basic reward. Achieving all three will quadruple the basic reward and grant a super reward.]

[Basic Reward: Two Trillion Credits.]

[Super Reward: A Favor.]

[Beware: Failing to achieve one objective in the next month will earn you the super intensified scorn of the Dragon Princess.]

Looking away from my System Logs, I shook my head and muttered under my breath, “Damn, that’s a lot of credits.”

My heart was hammering in my chest. My blood rushed through me while juiced with energy, intent, and nine cultivator gates.

Without my power armor, I was only up to 200% Exquisite Path Energy. But each vibrant gate spiraling in my neck, shoulders, wrists, hips, and ankles felt more prominent with energy when I paid closer attention to them.

Especially the one in my Hellion Half Ripper.

Half a day had gone by after I slaughtered my way through a bunch of Assassins, and the thrill of unleashing myself fully still hadn’t left me. Nor had the feminine dark phantom hugging me from behind, her wings flapping silently, gusting out ripples of fear.

The obsessive, possessive, and crushing pressure on my soul wasn’t much of a bother … as long as I kept focused elsewhere. It was the price I had to pay for more power, for more opportunities, and to keep those who wanted to step on me in check with the weight of doom on their neck.

“You good, Arden?” Merlin called from behind me.

“Going through a quick mental review,” I said without looking back. “It’s a little crazy thinking back about everything that happened.”

“No kidding.”

A silent moment passed between us, filled with the excited chatter of our new juniors.

There was nobody but us and the tailors inside of an overly large and private fitting chamber. Each of us had our own walk-in closet space, and each of those spaces could fit ten slum dwellings.

In every corner, on every wall, there were racks with myriad outfits in endless colors, a dizzying amount that were too many to count.

I’d already shooed away my tailor once everything was affixed. I kept looking at myself in the mirrors. I kept reflecting, getting lost in the past events that led up to this.

Merlin had probably done a lot of reflecting himself. He was a wizard, after all. And the first killer of young masters.

He broke the silence between us. “Well, the juniors are ready for your inspection. Oh, and Thumper told me to tell you he wants a private talk. He won’t tell me what it’s about until it’s the three of us.”

I nodded. “I’ll make my rounds soon.”

Once Merlin moved away, I checked another part of my System Logs.

[Divine Quest: Make it to the Grand Generational Passing with your companions without letting your Path become public! You will receive a special reward when you do!]

I wanted to complete the Royal Quest this time. I would hate to fail it again. But if I had to choose between meeting the System’s expectations or avoiding Melody’s intense scorn, the Divine Quest came first.

There were fifty-nine days left before the Grand Generational Passing. Twenty-eight days remained before me and my friends had to leave the Crossroads Citadel and make our way to the ultimate event.

But first things first, an inspection of the juniors.

Turning away, the golden trinkets attached to my dreadlocks swayed with some weight. The many rays shining from the sconces and spell lights caught every ring, ear piercing, and golden paint that accessorized the main style.

Even Hellion’s crimson claws had rings on them in the style of well-off nomads, simple, heavy, and gold. The gold tribal roots illustrated on my face, both eye-catching and reflective of the success of a nomad on the rise, were because of a specialized tailor.

She was on Path of the Artist and had once learned under a nomad. Even if she lacked the ancestral roots, she’d done right by me.

Polished dress shoes. Crisp black slacks and jacket. A pristine white shirt with buttons. A scaled metal vest colored dull gold. A big poofy overcoat – almost like a gambeson, but open down the middle – while mainly black with gold, bronze, and green accented patterns, its length reaching down to my ankles. The sleeves went unused, left to dangle, while most of the overcoat hung on my shoulders alone.

No tie, bowtie, or anything, only a free neck. Two buttons undone at the top of the shirt. The tailor had figured there should remain an edge to me, and I agreed by having Hooker Slaughterhouse as my chain-rattling belt, regardless of her red-on-black coloration being a mismatch. She kept her cursedness bound while being part of a statement.

Leaving behind my personal space, I went to the space of my nearest junior. They were yelling out to each other with thrill and nervousness in their voices until they saw me enroute.

Inspecting them shouldn’t be hard. We were all sporting Rare Rank 5 materials that experts had crafted and tailored.

Each outfit was worth anywhere from twenty million to forty million credits at a standard rate. Because of the uniqueness of being at the Final Rose Auction House while having specialized tailors – the standard rate was multiplied by five.

That averaged out to one hundred and fifty million credits for each of us. That was the equivalent of fifteen million Rank 1s living a decent life for an entire year.

And that was before factoring the Dragon Princess connection if we wanted to resell our outfits.

I had to breathe in and out, long and slow, to put aside how much money was being spent on appearances. I had to focus on what mattered – going into the Auction House with all of us looking our best.

“Brug.” I nodded at the half-orc Raider as he stood tall on a circular stage.

We ignored the knocked out nomad in the corner, who Brug had been hauling around for me. The lost nomad, the only Ranker, was clean and suited up as well, but only with items worth two hundred thousand credits – he was a side project I was hoping to clear soon.

As I inspected Brug, I gave him a simple command. “Tell me the powers you’re okay with sharing.”

To my surprise, he gave me no resistance. I would soon realize nobody was going to resist me much.

Being the first, Brug straightened some more, even though he was already seven feet tall. He was dressed in an armor-heavy style colored in silver, blue, and white, all shiny and polished, while topped with a helmet that had a light blue plume on top.

Apparently it was in the style of half-orcs who used to serve as infamous seafaring legionaries to an old and proud empire from long ago. The history of that old empire was the dust under the foundations of the Gigantomachy Conglomerate, but Brug grinned with banded tusks anyway.

The big green guy was simply happy to be here.

[Brug, “Don’t Think, Just Hit,” Pathwalker

 Path of the Raider: Level 72

Path Magic: Path Energy (Epic), Berserk Rampage (Epic), Boarish Rush (Exquisite), Grudge Cleave (Exquisite), Blood Fervor (Rare), Path Fire (Rare), Hunter’s Mark (Uncommon).]

Second, my tallest, Marnarka.

She looked down at me while over eight feet in height and with a build that would intimidate most men despite having a lot of curves. Unlike Brug, the half-minotaur woman held herself demurely while wearing a fluffy, light purple ball gown with many pearls adorning the top of her curved horns and her big glossy heels.

She was more of the modest sort, so her chest was covered up, even with it thrusting out like a large shelf, forcing me to stand back to see her big brown eyes and soft tanned face. That innocent expression nearly gave me pause until I remembered she crushed over forty cultists personally under foot or by hand.

[Marnarka, “Protect The Herd,” Pathwalker

Path of the Bulwark: Level 74

Path Magic: Path Energy (Epic), Body Fortress (Epic), Barrier Field (Exquisite), Damage Reflect (Rare), Damage Absorption (Rare), Mental Reinforcement (Rare), Heavy Stance (Uncommon).]

Third, Syleth.

She greeted me with a bewitching scarlet-painted smile and a flutter of her long scaled eyelashes covered in twinkling dust. She even undulated slightly while her white serpentine lower body was lying low until she reared up to loom over me, her belly and hips swiveling.

When she was standing normally, she was nearly Marnarka’s height. The half-naga had a torso large enough to match the body of a half-giant woman. The wispy scarves, cloaks, bangles, jewelry, and myriad colors from light blue to racy red to summer yellow made her seem as festive and charming as a half-naga could be on her Path.

Though I had my doubts that she could charm me away from the Dragon Princess.

[Syleth, “Crave My Fangs,” Pathwalker

Path of the Charmer: Level 70

Path Magic: Path Energy (Epic), Hypnotizing Theater (Epic), Petrified Chomp (Epic), Masterful Command (Epic), Drowsy Touch (Exquisite), Path Perfume (Rare), Knifer’s Grace (Uncommon).]

Fourth, Weaver.

Drider society worked differently than what I knew, so I had to check myself while Weaver was adorned in a dress. The gray, white, and silver hem reached to the ground and covered his eight black spider legs. Up top, his pale face was artistically painted with silver and black web-like patterns and dewy jewels.

I had to look down at him, since he was only five-foot-three, much smaller than female driders who could reach up to nine feet. The steely expression on a face with eight eyes reminded me of when I was smaller and had to face a world that looked down on me.

He seemed to appreciate the respect I extended to him, and he firmly gave it back in return.

[Weaver, “Rest In My Web,” Pathwalker

Path of the Spider: Level 71

Path Magic: Path Energy (Epic), Death Bite (Epic), Toxin Flame (Exquisite), Webbed Movement (Exquisite), Path Web (Rare), Silk Wire (Rare), Super Perception (Uncommon).]

Fifth, Kroker.

The rust-colored and scaly half-kobold looked up at me while a little over three feet. Despite that, Kroker stood with a dignified and faithful grace while robed in white and red with golden buttons on his clerical top and small rubies on his tall and pointed headdress. 

He looked like someone who would request for the System to forgive me for all of my sins.

From what I’d heard, he followed the God-Dragoness Faith. Apparently, the God-Queen was secretly a big dragoness who held us all in her cosmic hoard. 

I wasn’t sure about that, but I couldn’t deny it, either.

[Kroker, “Pray With Me,” Pathwalker

Path of the Cleric: Level 75

Path Magic: Path Energy (Epic), Small Smite (Epic), Cure Corruption (Exquisite),  Holy Wards (Exquisite), Minor Divination (Exquisite), Rejuvenating Chant (Exquisite), Path Light (Rare).]

Sixth, the preppy elf, Velira.

Seeing her gave me pause, because instead of wearing a feminine gown, she was wearing a tightly fitted suit with a bowtie. The colors were soft pink and emerald green with silver elvish scripts that glowed. Her silver hair was woven with glowing vines while done up in a bun. She still wore heels, but they were low to the ground.

She was fairly average in height at five-foot-six, but she stood with a refined posture that reminded me of someone. Ah, I could see it. She reminded me of Seraphina, but as an elf. Thankfully, she had eyes for Weaver, which might explain why she went for a slightly masculine style to contrast the drider.

At least she was sober, or she wouldn’t try being discreet compared to yesterday.

[Velira, “Be Honored To Face Me,” Pathwalker

Path of the Ranger: Level 73

Path Magic: Path Energy (Epic), Favored Foe (Epic), Spirited Combat (Exquisite), Nature Communion (Exquisite), Double Jump (Rare), Path Air (Rare), Critical Study (Uncommon).]

Seventh, Redfang the half-gnoll.

She was doing everything she could not to cry tears of joy and ruin the many reddish hues painted on her spotted and slightly fuzzy face. 

The tailors had adorned her like a fashionable wild woman in colorful blue, yellow, brown robes mixed with the pelts of grassland creatures with some red lines tastefully painted on. Instead of heels, she wore flats with straps that wrapped up her lower legs, keeping her a few inches shorter than seven feet while well over my height.

I could tell she was tempted to reach out and slobber over me with thanks. Though she was an emotional sort, she lived up to her Path in a fight.

I’d seen that for myself when she went after cultists yesterday.

[Redfang, “Red Is Pretty,” Pathwalker

Path of the Savage: Level 75

Path Magic: Path Energy (Epic), Mega Red (Epic), Blood Howl (Exquisite), Path Blood (Rare), Ripper Claws (Rare), Bite Back (Rare), Quick Chase (Uncommon).]

Eighth … Noodles.

With a malicious smile on lips painted blood red, and with black ears and a fuzzy black tail shifting and twitching, the neko had no qualms with baring who she really was to the squad. A complete and utter sadist.

But that didn’t stop her from representing a navy blue dress, heels, and an assortment of diamond heavy jewelry with a style that seemed too poised and well-practiced for what she was. I could almost see her inviting an unsuspecting young master into a nightmare.

With a graceful twirl and a sashay of her hips, the five-foot-nine neko watched me examine her, knowing I didn’t have any reasons to kick her out yet. I’d allowed her into the squad because she was willing to fight and follow orders. It was clear in her nearly soulless black gaze that she was a wild card I had to monitor.

I gave her a nod with a warning she could clearly read, and she nodded with a deranged smile in return.

[Noodles, “I Purr When You Hurt,” Pathwalker

Path of the Tormentor: Level 72

Path Magic: Path Energy (Epic), Torture Chamber (Epic), Pain Resonance (Exquisite), Sensory Overload (Exquisite), Anti Heal (Exquisite), Path Acid (Rare), Cat Acrobats (Uncommon).]

Last but not least, the ninth, Grimmy the half-goblin.

I looked down at her four-foot height.

She looked up at me with a big stupid smile on her green face, her dark hair done up into a knot on top of her head.

I had to turn to the nearest tailor and ask them what Grimmy was wearing. It turned out she was wearing something called a tutu.

It was a short, frilly, pink and white skirt with so many gems and sparkles it was hard to look at. She paired that with a skintight, cream-colored leotard that covered her torso while leaving her arms and legs bare.

For some reason, she refused to wear shoes, but she’d accepted having shiny rings on all of her fingers and toes, with hoops on her big ears.

It was by far the most ridiculous outfit I’d ever seen. Yet it was worth one hundred and fifty million credits.

With my face uncovered, I was more careful with my expressions as she kept smiling up at me, her big leafy ears waving up and down, her yellow eyes with black slits watching my every reaction.

I remained unbroken as I urged her to tell me about her powers. Things went as predicted until she nearly spoke of powers beyond her Path Magic.

Everyone else turned and looked as I slapped my hand over Grimmy’s mouth. Then I retracted it quickly because of the doom touch.

Grimmy held in her scream. She shivered and panted, eyes wide.

After a few seconds waiting for her to recover, I turned and gave her an undeniable order.

“Come with me.”