Chapter 435: Can a Snake Bend the Knee?

Alright, I said a chap a day, and I shall deliver! This one is yesterday's, and the 436 is today's. (that work, right?)

Enjoy!

PS: Priam Character Sheet 
PSS: Discord to say hello and discuss the chappies!

*

When an inhabitant of Oasis wanted to travel to Valaryth or enter Log-a-rhythm’s inner space, they had to touch the bark of the Tal Quercus. If they possessed the proper rights, the tree allowed passage. There was only one exception. 

Log’s trunk opened while Priam was still a meter away. Their spiritual connection allowed the Lord to bypass the scan. Sending the equivalent of a mental caress to his tree, Priam stepped through and found himself inside the Tal Quercus’s inner chamber.

With walls rising three meters high and an area spacious enough for a family of four, Log had shaped a majestic chamber for the meeting to come.

“Was this your idea?” Priam asked as he sat on a chair that reshaped itself into a throne of emerald glass-wood. Crimson veins carried potent sap through it, casting a regal glow over the Lord. “I’m no king.”

“Nope. Myuri’s. And you’re a Prince,” answered a shadow. The black shape crawled up to Priam’s feet before morphing into a young woman with a killer body. Jasmine perched a hip on the throne’s left armrest and crossed her legs. “Notice anything?”

“…Why are you wearing Rose’s glasses?”

“With her boosted perception, she doesn’t need them anymore. Makes me look smarter, right?”

It mostly makes you look like a sexy secretary.

The opening of a new passage saved Priam from an ill-fated reply. Esmée stepped in.

“Good morning, Priam.”

“Good morning, Esmée—”

“Hey, those are my clothes!” Jasmine blurted, pointing accusingly at her rival.

Instead of a dress, the princess was wearing tight brown trousers and a white-and-black duelist’s top. Paired with a dagger at her waist, the ensemble gave her a hypnotic, martial allure. In fact, Priam hadn’t taken his eyes off her since she entered.

“Really?” Esmée examined herself. “Rose gave them to me when I asked where to wash my dress.”

“Loaned, not given!”

“If it’s an issue, I can return them.”

“And walk around naked?” the Shadow growled. “You can keep them, just don’t ruin them.”

“Thank you. I had to take them in a little, but I’ll resize them to your measurements tonight.”

“Take them in?”

“The bottom was a little wide,” Esmée said, gesturing toward her rear.

Jasmine turned to Priam. “She wants to fight?”

“We both know you’re very proud of your ass.”

“Which is exactly why I must defend its honor!”

A new opening put an end to the bickering. Esmée moved to Priam’s right—not as a subordinate or second-in-command, which she wasn’t, but to present a unified front among the Champions. Her presence also compensated for the fact that neither Priam nor Jasmine were natural politicians, whereas the princess had grown up in the heart of court intrigue. Her insight could prove invaluable.

The newcomer walked to the room’s center before bowing. With jet-black hair and skin as pale as alabaster, she could have passed for a young beauty if not for her cold, mismatched eyes betraying her true nature: that of an ageless reptile.

“Sna Snahert presents her respects to Lord Juggernaut, the Author, and the Shadow.”

“Nice alliteration.”

“My mother was an idiot.”

“A thing we have in common.”

Sna lifted her head, probed Priam’s gaze, and chose not to respond. Cautious.

“Well, Sna, you’ve had a day to explore Oasis. Do you still want to join us?”

The shaman blinked with strange sluggishness. “Do I have another choice?”

“The Sun Shop lets you offer your crafting services to any Lord interested. Undersell your skills, and you could join another territory within the hour.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be recruiting her?” Jasmine asked across their link.

“I want a committed subordinate, not a prisoner who gets cold feet the moment things get hard. If she stays, it needs to be a conscious choice. That’s the first step toward loyalty.”

If a snake could even feel loyalty…

Sna’s tongue tasted the air with a flick before nodding. “I wish to join Oasis.”

“Why?”

“Your potential. By the end of this necro event, the Knaya Empire may be nothing but ruins. As Champions… as long as you please the Seven, they’ll leave you a way out. The Necromancer is a lost cause, the Tyrant is too dangerous, and the Guardian is my superior in every field that matters to him. Oasis stands as the obvious choice.”

“So you want to survive.”

“I want to prosper. My lifespan isn’t infinite, and the elves won’t let me forge an internal world.”

“And I will?”

Sna’s tongue tasted the air again. “If I am useful.”

Priam studied his guest, who studied him right back. The Juggernaut and the snake were entirely different, and yet they understood one another. Friendship seemed impossible, but symbiosis? Priam could believe in a mutually beneficial relationship unburdened by sentiment, focused solely on results. 

A glance left, then right, confirmed that his two rivals thought the same. Since Kazuki had already given his approval the day before, Priam rose.

“Your past crimes, sworn promises, blood debts… even your attempted assassination during the Gu trial—I don’t care about any of it. If you join Oasis, only one oath matters to me: do not betray us. Break your word, and I will chase you to hell and back to kill you with my own hands.”

For the first time, Sna smiled sincerely. “I understood that the moment I saw you brave atomic fire to take down Leo.”

Priam stepped forward until he stood before the shaman and lowered his head to meet her eyes.

“As your Lord, I promise you protection and opportunity.”

Sna bent the knee. “As your shaman, I submit to your authority and offer you my services.”

An overwhelming presence descended, validating the contract.

Sna Snahert, Tier 4, joins Oasis as shaman.

“Perfect. Now, first mission: I want to acquire [Curse Resistance].”

“The ideal version?”

Priam raised an eyebrow. “As far as I’m concerned, there is no other acceptable version for a resistance.”

“Of course. I can handle some of the prerequisites, but not all. For the rest, I understand you have access to a strong curse mage? Perhaps you could try provoking a catastrophic reaction by—”

*

In Kazuki’s opinion, Concept Archipelago was a vastly underestimated power. He knew Priam had a schedule that could shame a general’s, but the possibilities offered by an internal world were as tempting as they were terrifying. Fortunately, his friend seemed set on strengthening his foundations before the great leap to Tier 1. He wasn’t the only one.

While Jasmine dipped her feet into the tiny world’s central pool and Esmée ran her hand along the boundary membrane with sparkling eyes, the hoplite leaned back against a maple tree. He still remembered uprooting it months ago to plant it here.

“Phoenix law does not forbid harems, but that female could be thirty times Priam’s great-great-grandmother.”

A wave of heat swept across Kazuki’s nape, and he bowed his head in respect.

“Your Highness. I doubt Priam has the time or inclination to maintain a harem. Sna is here because he doesn’t trust her enough to leave her alone in Oasis.”

Sitting cross-legged, the shaman meditated. Her perception likely let her hear every word Kazuki said, yet she didn’t react.

“Hmm. I suppose she shall make a passable recruit, if he can secure her loyalty.” The bird turned toward Kazuki. “A nasty wound. How did this come to pass?”

“War. Would Your Highness know how to restore my leg?”

The phoenix prince glided down to the ground. Little more than a hologram, the light he emitted was still intense enough to dazzle the spearmaster. Impressive, considering the firebird was just a fragment of a ghostly ego found in a diluted tear. The original must have rivaled the stars…

“It was inflicted by a Transcendent… and not a weak one at that.” The phoenix flashed upward in a bolt of fire to land on a branch at Kazuki’s eye level. “To any other, I would have counselled a change of path. There is more to life than the spear. But there is only the spear in your life.”

“There’s also my duty.”

“Which dictates whom you slay and whom you shield, not for whom you live.”

“One died three days ago. The other is lost in a sector with more planets than a beach has grains of sand.”

How hard it was not to let despair crack his voice.

“A girl?” Kazuki nodded, and the phoenix went on. “I, too, once had a daughter. For her, I made the sector tremble, and I sense you shall do the same. From one father to another… Very well, allow me to inspect you.”

In his right hand, the warrior held a spear as a crutch. Not one of wood or metal, but one forged through his half-step Mastery III. Training and declaration in one: the hoplite would walk his path to the summit… or die trying.

“For how long can you keep that weapon manifested?” asked the Prince’s image.

“Two hundred and thirty-six heartbeats.”

“How long have you been at Mastery III?”

“I’m not there yet. I reached the half-step less than a week ago, and won’t be able to progress until Tier 2.”

“You are a Tier 1.” The phoenix froze for a fraction of a second before covering his eyes with one wing. “I have known Immortals of lesser talent. I who believed Priam to be an anomaly… Does manifesting the spear not hurt your head?”

“The suffering blends with the phantom pain from my missing leg. I pay it no mind.”

“Well, do not strain yourself unduly. You should be able to feel it, how a Mastery is tied to the soul the way Domain is tied to the mind, and Micro to the body. That spear in your hand is an image of the Spear’s myth. A projection fueled by your soul. Its destruction shall only weary you, but materializing it for too long might incur spiritual after-effects. You would not desire that, especially given your current state,” he added, pointing a talon at the hoplite’s missing knee.

“You know what is wrong with me?”

“The enemy has severed your leg, yet what was truly sundered was your spiritual body. An outgrowth of your very soul, which you might better know as the meridians: the pathways traversing your form to distribute the aether. Their spiritual nature renders them difficult to assail—for they are as much information as ethereal constructs, if you can grasp this duality—but it is achievable with certain Concepts, Mastery IV, and the other Supremacies at their subsequent ranks.”

Kazuki clenched his jaw. He still remembered Leo’s claws sinking into his flesh, biting into his very soul.

“Your predicament is now dire, for the enemy has wrought amputation. Had a few meridians remained, certain alchemical concoctions, natural treasures, racial Talents, or a skilled healer might have aided in regenerating the rest. Those avenues are barred to you. To your soul, you are now a one-legged person.”

Kazuki hadn’t climbed to the top of the military hierarchy by crying over what could have been. He focused on solutions.

“Can the first Merit of [Soul Scarred] help me? Priam advised me not to buy it, but he wasn’t sure.”

His friend had obtained that Title months earlier by cutting off a piece of his own soul. Kazuki had received it from Léo's claws.

“A well-known Title; you are not the first to suffer injury from a Transcendent. As for the answer to your query: ‘Just like your body, your soul is now capable of regenerating to some extent,’ the phoenix quoted. “The entire answer lies in the latter part of that sentence. Disregard the spiritual wound, might your leg simply regrow on its own?”

“Like a lizard tail? No.”

“Precisely. That Merit is a scam. Had the enemy Transcendent inflicted an incision as fine as a paper cut, it might have sufficed. Here, the wound is far too grievous.” He shook his head like an owl. “If a Merit exists capable of achieving more, it is unknown to me.”

Kazuki made a mental note to seek out the information. For all his power, the Phoenix Prince had only been a mid-Tier in a backwater sector. The elves or the Sun Shop Auctions stood better chances of providing guidance.

“It could have been worse,” the phoenix judged, his voice a touch gentler. “The most vital part of your soul remains whole, else you would be dead or apocryphal… which, under the watchful gaze of the Seven and the System, is but a fleeting prelude to demise.”

A vice started squeezing Kazuki’s skull. Still, he refused to dismiss his spear. “What would you do in my place?”

“I would assay a Nirvana.”

“If you weren’t a phoenix,” Kazuki clarified.

“Oh.” The idea seemed to perturb the Prince. “Well, I would rely upon your matchless talent to find a resolution. You can summon your spear for near four minutes? Aim for one hour. Then a full day. Then your whole life. Should you manage to reach Tier 4 and pick a humanoid Myth… you know what a Transcendent is capable of, do you not?”

“I know.”

Kazuki remembered Leo and his transformation into a tiger. The mythical image had become real. Tangible. Capable of reforming the hand that Priam had shattered with the hydra’s hook.

“Hmm. Alternatively, a sufficiently high level in Micro might resolve the issue, but my original never attained those heights.”

“Thank you for the advice,” Kazuki said. Whether through Knightmare or a Supremacy, he would stand again. He refused to let his daughter or his people see him like this.

A wind rose. Sensitive to his Concept, Kazuki turned toward the heart of the world. A rift had opened there, and the pressure differential between the inner world and a moon created a current of air.

On the other side stood Priam, smiling. “Alright, who’s ready to grind the Colosseum ladder?!”

Kazuki stepped forward.

*

Esmée - duellist ensemble

direct link to chap 436.