III-26 Vicar

Adept gives you a taste of becoming more than mortal, of evolving beyond the constraints of an ordinary body. Master lets you experience the

Adept gives you a taste of becoming more than mortal, of evolving beyond the constraints of an ordinary body.

Master lets you experience the flavors of godhood, allowing you to lift more than just a boulder, smash through the face of a mountain, and challenge storms.

Hero lets you become the storm. The scale of your power becomes destructive and encompassing, at times escalating or absolute. Some say that Hero is where one’s journey to godhood truly begins. But they are wrong.

Godhood is far different from being a Hero. And most Heroes are merely strong insects who live on their cradle, imagining themselves to be powerful just because they can break some large stones. Or cross a long gap.

You remain trapped by the skill. Trapped until you become a Legend. Then, things change.

Legends make their own rules. The difference between a Hero and a Legend is not merely a matter of size or scope.

It is not merely the difference between a mana bomb and a mana storm. No, Heroes are performers. They can stretch their skills further than ever. Legends are more than just performers. Legends are the authors as well. When you become a Legend, you scar the system with your existence. And it scars you in return.

Then, for the first time, you will experience it—

The Delving.

You will descend into your soul and witness everything that came before.

And with that, you will take a step forward into your future.

A step closer, some might say, to achieving true godhood for yourself.

But it is not the same as godhood, no.

Some gods are merely powerful, merely vulgar.

To be a Legend is to become an embodiment of something: an idea, a concept, a skill. To be the captain of your own soul, rather than just a shipman fighting to right its course.

-Udraal Thann’s Animancy Notes

III-26

Vicar

Shiv took a final look at the pooling remains of the orc before he speared through the ground. The brute’s body was a misshapen thing as blood and melting armor mingled into a viscous puddle. Shiv would have taken the orc’s warding horn if it hadn’t been destroyed, but with how all the orc’s weapons—and even the dome—were actively turning to slag, that was pointless.

The second Shiv blasted through the earth, the dome above came down in a shower of mercury. Dense adamantine turned fluid and splashed over the gap he left, coating everything in a metallic sheen. Behind, the only thing that truly remained aside from all the liquefied matter was one of Shiv’s corpses.

Deception 9 > 11

The Challenger is chuckling at your triumph

Shiv scoffed as he gouged his way through the earth. Then, he stopped ripping and started cutting with his Skysplitter. Deepest Edge proved much more efficient as his cuts traveled ahead and split through before him. This allowed Shiv to accelerate without using his fists like piledrivers.

Deepest Edge 63 > 64

He spent a moment reflecting on the fight he just had. It had been more annoying than anything. The orc had demanded he prove himself, but Shiv suspected the cruel monster just wanted to have a bit of a fight. The orc’s ability to shift between his armor and the surrounding metal and turn to wind would have been problems, but 811 prepared Shiv well.

Hyper-intelligent or not, all orcs were pointlessly cruel and personally vicious. This one couldn’t resist the allure of butchering its bested prey up close. It was practically a compulsion for them. One that could always be exploited, so long as orcs remained orcs.

Predictability is death, Shiv realized. His Deepest Edge finally died, but he performed another and extended his travel distance a bit more. Strength and power matter. But if I didn’t fool the orc just now, this could have been a pretty miserable fight. I couldn’t get to him easily. Didn’t have the right kind of magic or skills.

But that wasn’t entirely correct. His Common-Tier Deception and Psychology Skills mattered more near the end than all his other skills. Without them, could he have plotted out to lure the orc out? Or how to end the big bastard? Shiv had the might, but without the strategy at the end, he didn’t have the means to unleash it. But that hadn’t been possible if he didn’t understand the orc.

If I wasn’t a bit like the orc, Shiv thought. He recalled how he approached his other fights, just going after his enemies over and over again. Part of it was raw instinct and rage, but another part was how he simply enjoyed the feeling of beating someone down. Of hammering them with his fists, of tearing their limbs from their body, of misshaping them.

It wasn’t about inflicting pain with him. It was the dominance. It made him feel powerful after a lifetime of struggle and weakness. The orc noticed that in him. And Shiv finally turned and faced it in himself now. It propelled during his early journey as Pathbearer. It was the source of his boundless want to grow. But it was rough and raw and brutal.

A bit like he was right now.

And he could be refined. 

Raw ingredients rarely tasted good, after all. With the orc, he touched upon being something more. Something deeper. And for all he despised in the orcs, they were clever and skilled; they were cultured and insightful. He didn’t need their cruelty, but he wasn’t going to accept their intellectual superiority either.

A satisfied smile crawled over Shiv’s face. If I’m going to be a Pathbearer, then I won’t half-ass anything anymore, Shiv. Being a brute got us far. But we’re more than that. I’ve always been more than that. I will be no less. And… I want to learn. I want to learn all I can.

Psychology 5 > 6

Philosophy 5 > 6

At that self-declaration, he halted time and slashed upward. He emerged through a cleft lining the earth and shot up into the open air. He was in the middle of the Lost-Angeles ruins once more. About eight kilometers to his right and partially blocked by a wave of bifurcated buildings, he saw the orc’s disintegrating adamantine outer dome.

And hundreds upon hundreds of Necrotechs entirely surrounded it. There were dragons in the air—though only a few of them were golden dragons. Said golden dragons were frozen in temporal stasis as well. Shiv didn’t feel the mana resonance of their Chronomancy. He guessed they didn’t notice him and failed to activate their temporal shells. 

That was something to remember: Stealth was a skeleton key to many different tactics and strategies.

Adam was more than right, suggesting I actually develop my personal Stealth Skill.

He launched himself higher into the air to gather his bearings, and Shiv’s pulse quickened as he felt just how many Necrotech Deathstalkers there were all around him. Most were hiding inside buildings, positioned alongside the windows. There were teams on the rooftops as well, setting up what looked to be massive artillery emplacements with long tubes at the front and corrosive crystals on the back.

Shiv felt his insides tighten at the sight of the crystals. Necromancy. The only skill he truly hated right now. But it was an envious hate, a fearful hate. Shiv would have loved to understand how Necromancy worked if he could only interface with it without exploding like a mana bomb. Instead, he was forced to contend with it. Avoid it. And now he was dealing with a rogue splinter faction that specialized in it.

You’re a funny motherfucker, system, Shiv thought. Then, he extended his Skysplitter to three hundred meters. Unfortunately for these poor bastards, I can be a funny felling guy too.

A crack formed on his temporal shell. Seven seconds. Shiv didn’t so much slash with his size-magnified blade as he did hold it out to one-side and accelerate. He blasted through ruined buildings, splitting dozens across their middle. Then, as he got to the densest concentration, he discharged his Inertial Sheath. Just as he took on injuries, he cast himself back in time before he amplified his Skysplitter and sailed off in another direction.

He also flung one of his corpses in the direction of the soon-to-collapse buildings, just for good measure. Here. Figure this riddle out: Who dies a lot and… uh. Shit. I need to work on my riddles. Wonder if there’s a skill for that too…

There probably was. Anything someone could struggle became a skill. He threw his blade into the air and teleported to it. He let time resume for a beat as he stared into the distance. Beyond his sight, a skull-shaking blast shook the Lost Angeles sprawl, as a dozen buildings collapsed thereafter. Normally, he would have taken a second look to bask in the glory of the destruction he inflicted, but something else consumed his attention.

Someone else.

Blackedge was utterly consumed by swarming eldritch entities. Hundreds of worm-like creatures with stacked jaws crowded around the outer layer of the town, gnawing at its defenses. Through the gaps between the Outsiders, Shiv could see flashes of spell patterns. The town’s wards were still active, but they were pressed right up against the town. Every passing second, a dense tide of arrows would pass around the many-biters like a whirlwind and obliterate them, but it wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t enough because high up in the air, a massive metallic serpent had Dimensional rifts opened atop each of his outstretched hands. And the felling serpent had hundreds of hands. From the rifts poured unceasing streams of nightmares and horrors, and even more portals opened behind the vicar thereafter, blocking even the broken moon from sight.

From the Chasm came other enemies too. More dragons that lashed at the city with elemental beams and strange magic. These dragons weren’t the same as the ones Shiv fought earlier—these ones were properly armored and bore actual weapons. Dragon-knights. Probably rogue ones, since they were with Sullain.

At least a few of them were golden too.

That’ll be an interesting fight, Shiv thought as he tapped his index finger against his knife.

Then, from all across the city—except for the buildings Shiv just knocked down—missiles of corrosive energy arched through the air as Necromantic artillery was fired at Blackedge. 

They didn’t get far.

Arrows zipped down from the world above. Arrows that blasted through hundreds of buildings, detonated against protective barriers of Blackedge to fry the eldritch monsters; arrows that bounced off Sullain’s unseen wards and splattered dragon-knights on impact; arrows that kept falling and falling like a meteor shower. 

Roland Arrow delivered a statement then: That the sky belonged to him.

But Vicar Sullain hovered above Blackedge still, and he wove spell after spell with ease, challenging the Starhawk’s champion without fear.

And just as fast as buildings collapsed and crumbled, new structures rose from the ruins. They pushed through the glassed ground surrounding Blackedge like teeth would emerge from gums. New reinforcements joined the battlefield. Shiv realized then that Lost Angeles wasn’t just getting destroyed, but also rebuilt. And rebuilt the same way it was found. The Necrotechs seemed to care much about preserving the shape of old things, and Vicar’s loud proclamation thereafter cemented Shiv’s suspicions.

“Enough, Roland Arrow! Enough pain! Enough struggle! Enough death! I come here to punish you and the other butchers that defiled Submission! That burned the holy city of unified faith! I come for you and no one else. The ignorant and feeble of your town can still be spared. Give yourself unto my charge and face rightful judgment. The ones without sin will be converted to the Great One’s love and know peace everlasting. Save them, at the least. Have you no heart? Have you only a coward’s spirit?”

Arrows flashed around Sullain. The burning trails they left in the sky told Shiv they actually traveled down from the void, but his Reflexes just weren’t fast enough to perceive it. Hundreds of searing arrows detonated one after another then, each blast building on another, each blast spending a radiant pillar rising high into the sky. Everything vanished into a swelling rush of purest white. Shiv could see nothing, could hear nothing, could do nothing as a mountain of force slammed into him.

He spiked against it using his gravitic field. He drove himself against the crushing tide with his Inertial Overdrive. But it was far too much. A few of those arrows had disintegrated Shiv. Now, he was caught within the vicinity of hundreds going off. This must’ve been beyond a Hero’s power—unimaginable if one didn’t have a god backing them. Even as Shiv was smashed into the ground, his chest shattering through glass and his skin simmering from the spiking heat, he wondered how much of Roland's power was his own.

The Deathless fought the explosion. He forced himself onto one knee and tried to rise. It was like he was carrying the weight of the falling sky. But then, suddenly, all the weight pressing against him vanished. Shiv blasted into the air as the whiteness faded as well. All of a sudden, the world cleared, he could hear again as the roaring sound was muted as well.

And his mind went blank at what was revealed in the aftermath.

The scene that played before him was a mirror to his first encounter with the Vicar. Then, Blackedge’s magi formations had unleashed their collective mana upon the Vicar. Sullain stopped time for everyone but himself, then siphoned the fireballs cast at him before shaping it into a Biomancy spell instead.

Right now, strands of brightness inferno swirled between Sullain’s many hands, coalescing into a minor dawn that churned at the massive lich-serpent’s mid-section. The Dimensional rifts were closed, but Sullain merely sighed. It wasn’t a sigh of exertion, either. Sullain just sounded disappointed. “Why must you delay what is destined to follow? You cannot win this. I will have your city. And I will have you. I do not hate you, Roland Arrow, but there is no punishment too great or grave for what you have done. For what you have inflicted upon my people, my beautiful city…”

And by the end, Sullain’s voice was thick with emotion. Shiv could even feel himself tearing—Son of a bitch, is that a Social Skill? It has to be.

And just then, Shiv realized he couldn’t see Sullain’s mana fields. It was like it didn’t exist, but with how much fire and destruction Sullain was manipulating right now, his Pyromancy must’ve extended across the horizon. At the least. But there was nothing. There was nothing of Biomancy, Chronomancy, Pyromancy, Hydromancy. There was nothing at all.

Unless… All his Magical Skills are merged into one? Or have evolved so much I can’t see what they do? That was an awesome thought. Marikos… I think you might be the smaller Legend in my mind now.

A massive arrow exploded, splitting clouds across the horizon. It glowed a bright gold and was infused with so much pyromancy that—

The arrow vanished into a shroud of gold-lined Dimensionality that formed over Sullain. A veil of blackness hovered behind the colossal Vicar. It swayed like a shawl, but then faded from sight. “I can feel you weakening, Arrow. You are spent. And your soul is burning from within. Even a hidden True Legend like yourself cannot endure the unnatural power of the demiurgos for long. Please. I beg you. I beg you to surrender. You may be willing to drink in the death, but I do not. I feel all who have died here today. I feel for all that have fallen. And will pray for them. I pray they will be returned from that blessed paradise residing deep within the Great One. And I pray they forgive you. Because I cannot.”

More arrows fell. Arrows of all colors, of all mana types. But Sullain cast the small sun he was forging from Roland’s prior barrage, and he channeled a stream of Necromancy into it. The brilliant star turned corrosive. A Necromantic dawn bathed everything in green. Everything.

The falling arrows withered and broke apart.

The land rusted and decayed.

Shiv combusted. His vitality exploded. A blast of purest white left him with a roar of agony.

Revenant 42 > 50 (Skill Evolution Imminent)

Vitality Drain 47 > 51

Everything kissed by the withered sun’s brightness suffered its decaying glare.

Inhuman shrieks escaped Shiv’s lungs. The pain was unbearable. The world around him shattered—but the surging blast flowing out from him halted. As did the Necromantic glow. A resonant ripple crashed against Shiv, and even in his incoherent state, he felt his Chronomancy pulsed. He manifested his time-armor on instinct as he fell from the air, as he crashed against the ground.

It felt like he was flaying his soul, like the fire was crawling into his bones and organs. His eyes rolled. But unconsciousness didn’t come. The pain kept growing and growing.

Shiv screamed. He screamed like he did when the Recollector tortured him, tried to change him. He tried to fight through the pain, but soul wounds were on another threshold of suffering. Come on… Get your shit together…

He clenched his jaw and a scream turned to a ragged growl. He needed to get out of here, he needed to…

“I remember you.” Shiv’s stomach plunged as he saw the Vicar hovering right above him. Behind Shiv, a veil of darkness had been formed, and the blast that left Shiv’s body was slowly being siphoned into a new red and white ball in the vicar’s hands. The vicar himself was ethereal. Translucent. He gave a gasp of effort as he wrestled Shiv’s exploding vitae under control. “You are the one that fell from the town. The boy. You have survived. You have changed. You have returned.”

Shiv took a step back, and he barely stopped himself from shrieking as a rush of pain sliced through his body. Fuck… Don’t… I need to…

“Your soul is… different. But I have seen something of this composition before. Udraal showed me. He showed me the technique of interweaving… To create a living soul. An Unfettered Animus… It takes more than just my Animancy to manipulate. I need to focus on your Vitality as well. How harmoniously complicated. It is just like him to create such a thing…”

Vicar Sullain let out a slight laugh as he flicked the now controlled sphere of vitae up into the air. It hovered beside the kilometer-long serpent as he looked down at Shiv. The face of the Vicar was oddly expressive, despite being mostly of a black alloy. He looked sorrowful. “Poor child. I heard your cry. I did not notice you, so committed was I trying to shatter the town of the Flamebringer. I would have never allowed you harm if I knew. Not until I was certain of who you were.”

Shiv tried to reply, but it was all he could do to stop himself from shaking. Holy shit I’m in so much godsdamned pain.

“Yeah, well,” Shiv bit back a whimper. “Maybe if you stop sieging the town and just go back down into the Abyss we can call it even?”

The Vicar stared at him. “I can see your flesh melted into your armor. I can see some of your organs spread around the cracks. Most would be incoherent with pain. But not you. You must have lived a painful life. A torturous life. I’m sorry.”

Despite how bad it hurt, Shiv shrugged. “I just… take things as they come.”

Cracks formed around his temporal shell. But the Vicar made a brief gesture and a wave of gold splashed through Shiv, restoring the skill’s integrity. Shiv blinked in surprise, but then let out a gasp as he felt the Vicar’s Chronomancy. Tighten around him.

“Strider of the Unbending Path,” the Vicar commented. He slithered down from the air and drew close to Shiv. The dense sphere of Vitae captured from Shiv bobbed above like a new sun. The Vicar really had a thing with stars… “That is a skill for dragons, my child. How did you achieve such an evolution?”

“A certain eldritch entity decided to start hitting me using its past selves.”

“Ah. A Recollector.”

“A Recollector?” Shiv breathed. “There’s more like it.”

“Trillions,” the Vicar chuckled. “And trillions more every day as the Stranger feeds.”

Shiv couldn’t imagine facing trillions of Recollectors. He couldn’t even imagine how large a trillion was.

“I am Vicar Sullian,” the great serpent crossed its many ethereal arms. “I realize I have not greeted you properly. My apologies for such inconsiderate behavior, but to excuse myself, your state—and the flame that burst forth from your body would have incinerated my army and this town. Along with the edge of this continent and a portion of the Grand Pacific.”

Shiv’s eyes widened. “That… bad…”

“It likely could have been much worse if I had not contained it,” Sullain said, turning to gaze at the Vitae sphere. “May I inquire about your name?”

Shiv tried to jump back in time, to the temporal anchor he left right outside the Surface Gateway. His Chronomancy moved—and jolted in place as it crashed against the Vicar’s magic. A shudder passed through Shiv’s soul. Pain exploded inside him—that’s how deep the burns went. Against all odds, Shiv didn’t collapse. He even held back a scream.

“Your name please,” Vicar Sullain asked again, with a bit more weight this time. “It is impolite to leave a conversation, dear child. Especially when I have been so polite.”

“Yeah, you also kind of set me off like a bomb,” Shiv hissed. He tested his Biomancy, and when he realized it was unconstrained, he tried to remove it from his body. Only to discover he couldn’t separate when his tissues began and his bone armor ended. In that moment, he was glad he didn’t have a mirror. His stomach turned. Gods, I must look like a nightmare.

“No,” Sullain said, answering Shiv’s thought. “You are merely wounded. Some might call you disfigured now, but aesthetic is not a thing I cling so desperately to. I know true nightmares. And you are not one.”

He’s in my mind!

“Only the surface,” Sullain said. “I will not go further. I refuse. It is no different than physically violating someone to me. To take someone’s will from them, to delve into their heart and force your way into their memories, is a disgusting act. So it has always seemed to me. In this cruel world, all we have is our sense of self. I do not have the heart to take even that.”

Shiv stared at the Vicar for a moment as fought to get his mind back under control. When he managed to focus enough, he was going to use Outside Context Problem and see if he could jump back to the Surface Gateway. For now…

Maybe gathering some intelligence wouldn’t be so bad either.

“Yes,” the Vicar agreed. “Details matter. Learning about another person is a sublime joy. But I must tell you that there is no skill that will allow you to leave without my permission. You are strong, dear child. But only for a child. You have not begun to learn the true depths of the soul, and the true reaches of one’s skill. Now. Your name, please.”

“Shiv,” he finally said to the Vicar. “I call myself Shiv. It’s the only name I’ll ever accept.”

“Shiv,” the Vicar said. “Like the weapon?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? Is it because of the weapon.”

Shiv nodded slowly. “Kept me safe on the streets. Kept people away. I liked that about them. Made me feel powerful. So, Shiv.”

Slowly, the Vicar leaned in and stared at Shiv for a long moment. Faint blue mana gleamed within the Vicar’s glass eyes, and his long metallic teeth clicked together as he let out a reverberating breath. “I see… And I recognize you… Your face… Your eyes… You are the child of one of my enemies. Harlon Lowe is your father. Vera Lowe is your mother.” The Vicar held up a hand and crimson helix danced upon its palm. Two more sets of helixes superimposed themselves over the first, and the Vicar sighed. “I knew there was something about you when I sensed your flesh. But I was so consumed that I didn’t focus. I was so enraged and black of mood on the day of my retribution, I just let you fall.”

“Seems everyone knows a bit more about dear old mom and dad except me,” Shiv snorted.

“Yes. A pity. But your woes may be at an end soon. There is someone I should return you to. To show that his project has achieved something of a success… I am curious about how you came to be… Perhaps you can tell me yourself. I would be most obliged.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Shiv said. “And I’m not something to be returned to anyone. I’m my own man.”

“Udraal would disagree. And he will come for you eventually. It is certain. You are the result of his hand. I am sure of it now.”

And Valor pretty much said the same when Shiv left the gate.

“Valor?” Sullain breathed. He was suddenly close to Shiv, eyes gleaming. “He Who Still Eternity… He has been freed, then. How troubling.”

Shit, I really need to watch my thoughts around this guy.

“Your language as well,” the Vicar said. “I do not appreciate coarseness when it is not required. However, you arrive as quite the enigma. To appear suddenly… Have you returned to protect your home?”

“Something like that,” Shiv said, not seeing the point in lying about this. “Most people who live on Blackedge are sacks of shit to me. But they don’t deserve to die just for being sacks of shit. There are people I care about there as well. And there’s a certain Town-Lord who I need to punch, and you’re cutting in line.”

“You? You wish to face Roland Arrow?”

“Just wanna hit him in the face a couple times. A couple hundred times. Until some of his teeth are broken, maybe.”

An amused chuckle escaped from the Vicar. “I see. And your grudge, then, is personal.”

“And yours isn’t?” Shiv asked. He considered his next words, but let his intuition guide him. “I know about Submission. Well. Something about Submission. I want to understand why you’re doing all this. What the hells is the point of sacking all of Blackedge. And why have you allied yourself with the Inquisition to do it?”

“Ah, you know of my deplorable associations as well?” The Vicar sounded surprised.

And just then, Shiv realized there was something extremely funny he could do to the Inquisition, just by telling a distorted story. “Know about them? I ran into the Inquisition bastards—those idiots lost your Animancy Core.”

Silver Tongue 21 > 22

The Vicar went still. “What?” His voice ended in a snarl.

“Yeah. They lost your core. It was supposed to pass through Gate Theborn, right? Well. It’s with Lord Scorn for good now. Because it went off on the other side. In Vulketh.”

“WHAT!” Sullain shouted. “HOW! HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?”

Shiv didn’t even bother hiding his shit-eating grin. “Because the dumb felling bastards tried to take it from the Gate Lord, and things went to shit in the process. I think they were planning on stealing it from you to begin with. To withhold the core from you as leverage, and leave you without any way to empower your weapon. They want Starhawk’s Perch, and they’re afraid that you were going to—”

The Vicar let out a rageful cry. An anvil of fire crashed down through his body, knocking Shiv off his feet. The Deathless did black out from the pain that time, but he woke shrieking as his ruined flesh impacted the ground.

Twin voices filled the air in the time-frozen ruins of Lost Angeles. Shiv’s throat bellowed with pain, and the Vicar shouted declarations of rage and hatred at the sky, promising to unmake the Inquisition.

Deception 11 > 12

After a few seconds of screaming, Shiv finally managed to master enough of himself to get back up. Okay. I… I don’t know how much more I can take before dropping dead. I need to get out—

“No.” The Vicar’s words smashed into Shiv physically. Blood erupted from the Deathless’s mouth as he blasted across the ground. Shiv slid for a good hundred meters before he finally stilled. It took seconds to stop his agonized wails. As he tried to rise, the Vicar loomed over him. “Speak. What else do you know? Do you lie or spit truth?”

Shiv spat blood at the large ethereal serpent, only for the spew to splatter down on his own face. “If you head south, you can ask the Inquisition yourself.”

“They are coming?” Vicar Sullain breathed.

“Yeah. With a hundred thousand people.”

“Why—why…”

Shiv snorted. “Why do you think? They want the Perch, and… they’re going to knock you off now that you did most of the work.”

And it wasn’t even a lie. The Inquisition was probably going to do that—just maybe not immediately.

“Those… I knew this would come. But so soon. How shortsighted.” The Vicar shook. “I was a fool for thinking the surfacers could be trusted.”

Shiv’s mind spun. He was losing track of time. He needed to focus. He needed to… He had a skill that could help him escape? What was the skill… Hurt so bad… he couldn’t think…

“What else.” When Shiv’s awareness returned, he found himself staring at the Vicar. They were looming over him.

“Nothing else,” Shiv growled. “That’s all I wanted to tell you—” He gritted his teeth as the Vicar made a gesture at him. It felt like his soul was twisting inside of him, growing tighter and tighter. Shiv’s eyes rolled. “Piece of shit…” he seethed. “What happened to being… polite. Fucking… Torturing me as a second resort? Really asshole!”

“I do what I must!” the Vicar declared with conviction. “Speak. And the pain ends. Do not make me push into your mind.”

Shiv couldn’t help but laugh. Yeah, Vicar Sullain was a piece of shit. That nice and caring bullshit lasted seconds. This is who the big snake really was. A fucking asshole.

“And no more swearing!” Sullain clenched his hand.

Shiv felt the Vicar trying to break his body. He pushed back at the unseen field with his Biomancy. The Vicar scoffed and tore Shiv’s Biomancy field like it was nothing but paper. Shiv gagged and vomited from the agony. He started seizing as the Vicar broke all his limbs at once.

“I know how to keep you alive, boy. Speak. Speak and the hurt ends. It fouls my spirit to do this to you, but I will not be denied.”

“F-fuck you,” Shiv wheezed. Someone was screaming at him—screaming from inside of him—Rose!

The Vicar reached for him again.

Shiv triggered his Outside Context Problem and plunged into his own Vitae. A badly corroded layer of black and white enveloped Shiv. The Vicar lurched back, confused. Shiv cast his Chronomancy back in time—back to the very first anchor he planted right outside Gate Not-Theborn.

Shiv blinked across existence. It was like he was being reeled back across his personal history by a cord of mana. The pain faded for a moment during the transition. Shiv thought he was going to revert to a point where he wasn’t wounded, where he was still whole and hale. The assumption was proven wrong the moment he blinked back into existence. His flesh combusted and melted into his armor immediately.

Every soul-wound he just suffered returned to him all at once. His Chronomany might have been able to revert the wounded state of his body, but when the damage lined his Vitae—

Shiv collapsed and began to shake. He didn’t even scream anymore. It was too much. It was all too much. He shook and twitched on the soft soil, but there came no relief. The pain never ended. It just built and built and built.

Even as a blue light splashed over him.

Even as he heard Adam screaming his name.

Even when he died.

Revenant 50 > 51 (Skill Evolution Reached)

And it only got worse than Revenant started to evolve.