Free Tier - Accidental Champion (Book 7) - Chapter 43 - Sacrificial Transference

Gregori The Collector was frozen in fear.

For the first time in several thousand years, it was a fear he couldn’t control. A fear that controlled him.

Gregori hadn’t needed to use fear to protect himself in a long, long time. When he’d risen to power, he’d picked his battles carefully. He’d plotted. Planned. Killed in anyway necessary. By proxy from afar. With an army at his back. Or all on his own, up close and personal.

Through every one of those fights, he’d been afraid. Gregori could not avoid fear. He’d come to that conclusion early.

But it had been a long time since he’d faced someone that terrified him.

His protective shell was supposed to be strong enough to withstand an attack from even the most powerful B Grade strike The Collector could imagine—at least on this side of the Greater Universe. Afterward, the shell would be weak. Afterward, it would not withstand another strike on the same level. Such an attack would almost drain his entire reserve.

Almost.

Xavier Collins had been integrated into the System what felt like mere minutes ago. The Collector’s intelligence on the man-become-dragonkin said he was D Grade. Yet that strike hadn’t weakened his protective shell—it had broken it.

Can’t be right. Can’t be right. Can’t be right.

He’d stood and watched in utter terror as the shell fractured and cracked around him until it finally shattered. His fear reserve had been completely drained. His Consume Fear spell still in cooldown. And the fear he felt…

He couldn’t draw upon it!

It wasn’t just his protective shell that had broken—the skill itself, the one that allowed him to use fear as fuel in the first place—had been damaged!

The Collector hadn’t known that was possible.

A swift mental command sent all his guards at Xavier Collins. The man must be some hidden powerhouse. He couldn’t be from that backwater planet in a derelict, weak sector like Silver River! Hell, this might not even be Xavier Collins at all!

Maybe it was someone else.

Yes. Yes.

Someone else.

Can’t be right. Can’t be right. CAN’T BE RIGHT!

He turned to run. But the dragonkin materialised front of him. Strong fingers clamped about Gregori’s wrists. Ethereal, blue-glowing chains appeared. A weight settled deep inside him

A notification popped up.

You have been afflicted with Soul Chained. Unless you break the chains, you will not be able to move farther than twenty feet from the spell’s caster.

Two teleports inside a time dilation field, a part of his mind that remained somewhat coherent told him. Then he was swept away in the blink of an A Grade’s eye, gaping at the strange, glowing chains, trying to catch up, trying to push past the terror and understand.

Everything turned black.

Where am I?

The dragonkin released his wrists.

Not black. No. There was light. It burned his back. A sharp head turn had him gazing down at a planet—his planet. Behind him, that light was the sun.

Space?

The fool dragonkin had taken him away from the throne room. The runes’ protections would be gone. The Collector grinned. He would have laughed, but there would be no sound. Not here. He pushed Spirit Energy from his core, up to his shoulder, down his arm, and finally to his forearm where it activated a device installed into one of his bones.

Your teleportation was blocked by Soul Chained. Break the chains to move farther than twenty feet from the spell’s caster.

Gregori’s mind was sluggish. The terror was freezing him, making it impossible for him to think. Gods, the fear was supposed to fuel him. Without that skill he was nothing. Useless. Weak.

No. No. I’m not weak. I am Gregori The Collector! All in the Greater Universe will know to fear my name! To fear my wrath!

He stared at the dragonkin. The child. Tricks. This must all be tricks! No one this powerful would come after him.

“I’LL MAKE YOU PAY FOR THIS!” Gregori screamed. No sound was released in the vacuum of space.

The Collector propelled himself forward. Though he hadn’t spent a great deal of time fighting in space, he had a Zero Gravity Chamber in his castle in one of the training halls. When he was bored of his regular training, he liked to mix it up and throw a bunch of slaves inside the room then hunt them down one by one.

D Grades especially felt an intense bout of fear simply being weightless. The weak fools didn’t know how to handle zero-g. The terror they felt was unbelievably intoxicating.

That was not the case for the man—the dragonkin—before him. His large black wings allowed him to move with a fluid grace Gregori hadn’t witnessed before. He looked like he’d been born without gravity the way he could move.

And gods be damned he was fast.

“I WON’T LET YOU RUIN ME!” Gregori’s throat went raw he tried to shout so loud. He punched for the man’s face. Though he didn’t have the ground to push from, Gregori had the ability to create anchors in different spots in space with the power of his will. He empowered the strike with one of his most powerful spells. A yellow-glowing spike formed at the end of his fist.

He hit nothing. The dragonkin slipped out of his reach like a leaf pushed by a breeze.

Ten more strikes followed. Each were dodged with the same careless ease.

The longer that yellow-glowing spike remained on The Collector’s fist, the more powerful his attack would be when it finally connected. But each moment he wasn’t able to hit his enemy the pain from holding the spell active worsened.

The Collector couldn’t use his broken skill—the one that allowed fear to empower him—but he had been in a fear-state for so long he was able to overpower it. The terror was still there. His thoughts weren’t as clear as they should be. But he could think now, and his reflexes were hardwired into him over thousands of years of training.

Even without the fear skill, he should be able to hit the damned dragonkin! He should have been fast enough!

There was a shimmer about the man. The way he moved was strange. Fast… Too fast.

Another blasted time dilation field.

Now The Collector realised why he’d been taken from the throne room. It wasn’t only to get him away from the mass of B Grade guards—it was to specifically get him away from his Time mages, thwarting their ability to use opposing time dilation fields.

Xavier Collins, or whoever the hell this mad dragonkin was, was toying with him.

Gregori felt a resurgence in his level of fear. This threat was far more than he’d realised. When his city’s runes had been hijacked, he had worried. When all his B Grades had been caught in time dilation fields by those clones or whatever the hell they were, he’d worried even more—but he’d tricked the bastard. Avoided the fate that had befallen his Elite Strike Force.

He’d punched Xavier.

Kicked him.

Broken bones.

Then that bastard’s strike had broken his defence—broken his skill!

Now this. Toyed with. Unable to hit his enemy. Made to feel weak.

Made to feel as helpless as one of his slaves.

Gregori wanted nothing more than to run. Gods be damned, he hated that feeling. Flight. It was the worst, most degrading way to feel when afraid—that you couldn’t stand against what was before you. That you had to flee. Gregori understood he hadn’t yet reached his ultimate goal of being the most powerful Denizen in the Greater Universe. A man that was feared by every being alive and feared even by the spirits that visited this plane. He knew there would be times when he would have to flee. He had accepted that. In the grand scheme, he was still young. Still only taking the first few steps on his journey.

If he had to run? So be it. He would lick his wounds and take revenge in any way he could.

But he couldn’t run. Soul Chained was still active. He felt the weight deep inside him. He tried to break them, felt them weaken when he battered them with his will, but it would take too long.

There was nowhere for him to go.

All that fear. All that terror. It thundered through his veins. He hated that he wanted to flee, but like a cornered, wounded animal, he would fight.

Even if it killed him.

Gregori The Collector hovered in space not far from his opponent. A grin tugged his lips up and he flashed his teeth at the bastard dragonkin across from him. He wasn’t calm. Far from it.

But he was in control.

Xavier Collins didn’t look nor feel afraid. He peered at Gregori with a simmering rage. Whatever was going through the dragonkin’s mind, it was clear he was done playing.

As am I, you stupid child. As am I. You will die out here. Coming after me will be your biggest regret. He raised his chin in defiance, showing the dragonkin his own rage. I will show you the meaning of fear!

Gregori The Collector shut his eyes. When he became C Grade, he’d chosen a class that had given him a spell he’d heard only whispers about growing up before he was integrated. He had been so helpless before he’d gained the System. A million times, he’d wanted to use that spell. Wanted to destroy his father for making him feel so weak and afraid where he’d looked to him for protection. Where he’d looked to him for love.

Gregori had killed his father a long time ago. He’d thought that would make the fear ago away. Thought it would make the nightmares, the flashbacks, the feeling of utter helplessness, vanish.

But his victory, his calm, his satisfaction, only lasted for a minute. Only as long he’d stood over the body of his dead father.

When he’d turned away and to let the man rot, all that fear had come rushing back. The nightmares never left. The flashbacks came at the worst possible times. Advancements were said to strengthen the body and take away any of its ailments, and while they strengthened the mind too, they didn’t fix it.

The healers he’d visited said it was something they couldn’t solve for him—it was something he had to overcome himself.

Deeply unsatisfied with that answer, Gregori left a lot of dead healers in his wake. When he finally advanced to C Grade and saw the class he’d heard about and read its description, he knew it would possess the spell he’d wanted as a child. By then, he’d already been rising in the sector.

The sector was young, weak, and he’d grown to govern several worlds. He was powerful. Feared. Everything he’d ever wanted to be. Everything he thought would help him.

But the nightmares and the flashbacks still plagued his every moment.

“I will not be helpless,” he’d whispered to himself as he’d chosen the new class, knowing it was what he needed. The notification from the System had come—the spell was his.

Finally his.

And though the fear never left, after that day Gregori knew he would never feel the same level of helplessness ever again. He would never let anyone kill him, no matter how powerful they were. He’d activated that spell there and then and it had been sitting in his heart ever since.

The nightmares, the flashbacks, disappeared.

The spell lay heavy on him every day, but the weight was a fraction of what he’d dealt with before. He bore it gladly.

Fortunately for him, the spell could not be interrupted. He hadn’t given the spell a moment’s thought when the runes had been hijacked and stripped his other active spells, forcing them into a furiously long cooldown.

The spell’s name was Sacrificial Transference. It was and always would be the highest ranked spell in his possession. Though its rank had risen a great deal since he’d gained the spell, the description had never once changed.

Sacrificial Transference – Rank 250

Sacrificial Transference is a single-use spell.

Sacrificial Transference cannot be interrupted by forces outside the caster.

Sacrificial Transference creates a dark portal that sits within the heart of the caster, a gateway that leads directly to the void outside the mortal realm. Once cast, this spell continuously feeds off the caster’s soul, putting them in tremendous spiritual pain.

The longer the spell remains active, the more powerful it will ultimately become. If the spell is deactivated, the power sacrificed from the caster’s soul will be lost forever, the process restarted on the next cast.

When a target is chosen and Sacrificial Transference is triggered, all negative status effects on the caster are transferred to the target. Included among these negative status effects is the dark portal itself, which will sit in the target’s heart.

Once the dark portal to the void sits within the target’s heart, the portal’s direction is reversed. All the caster’s sacrificed energy will be sent back through the portal directly into the target’s heart, causing an explosion of power with a strength relative to that of the caster themselves coupled with the duration Sacrificial Transference remained active before it was triggered.

This attack ignores an enemy’s defences.

This attack may cause the caster’s soul irreparable harm.

This attack has a chance to open a crack in reality.

Use with care.

Gregori The Collector chose his target and triggered Sacrificial Transference, a spell that had been eating at his soul for several thousand years.

A spell he could only ever use once.