Cataclysm Conquest | Chapter 01: New Challenges (First Draft)

Friday, November 25, 4 S.E.

Leonidas grunted under his breath, breathing in as his [Cataclysm Core] shuddered in his Dantian. His Strength, Endurance, Agility, and Dexterity had improved by leaps during his months of training, but none of them truly managed to ameliorate the strain of trying to advance his Core, as he’d been struggling to do for the past three months.

His mana was running wild, roaring across his body as he worked to push his Core toward the final stage of Reinforcement, and layer the energy over it the way that Ceruviel had instructed.

His mentor stood nearby, leaning on the wall of his meditation chamber within the Royal Palace of Dawnhaven, and watching him with unblinking lavender eyes as sweat poured across his body.

“Focus,” Ceruviel chided calmly, her eyebrow twitching upward as he met her gaze. “You need to solidify your shell. You’ve done the hardest part already; now it’s a matter of density.”

Leonidas grimaced at her words and refocused, steadily threading his raging mana supply to layer itself into the existing energy that had already been created around his power source. The months since the Cataclysm War, as the people of Dawnhaven had taken to calling it, had seen him struggling to properly achieve the third level of Core development, impeded both by his 15% Cultivation penalty and the incredibly volatile nature of his power.

Cataclysm Mana did not like to be contained, and containment was exactly what he was attempting: layering mana across his Core like radiation shielding, both to protect it and to better consolidate its strength to allow his Spirit to harness it more stably for his Contender Tribulation.

The process had not been painless, and more than once Leonidas had very nearly injured himself, pushing the point of vomiting blood as the mana in his body seethed and raged against being concentrated. Ceruviel had not seemed overly worried, though very few things truly concerned his Mentor.

She seemed to interpret every impediment in his path as a worthy test.

“You are close, Achilles,” she said steadily, using his name instead of title in the private environment. “You need to solidify the layering. Make it equal across the entire sphere.”

Leonidas gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, curling his hands into fists and exhaling shakily as the mana in his dantian snapped and snarled, resisting him at every turn but slowly, blessedly, layering itself onto the shield around his [Cataclysm Core]. His jaw locked tight in stress as he worked, and his body crackled with lightning, idly contained by the barrier of [Psionic Force] his mentor was maintaining around him in a wide radius.

Leonidas leveraged his Willpower to its maximum as he worked, straining his monumental focus to its greatest extreme while threading a constant stream of blistering energy around his Core in a containment field of steadily thickening power until, at last, something inside of him clicked, and he snapped open his eyes to the sound of two System chimes.

SYSTEM MESSAGE

Congratulations, Leonidas! You have successfully reached [Core Reinforcement]!

CORE REINFORCEMENT

[Description]: Through effort and focus, you have managed to create a layered shield around your [Cataclysm Core], increasing the focused power of your Core and creating a means to better build and store your energy. Through this action, you have successfully taken the first step toward achieving Contender rank!

[Effect 1]: +25% Mana Pool

[Effect 2]: +25% Psi Pool

[Reward 1]: 300 [Aetherium]

Leonidas dismissed the first System message with a flex of intent, and tiredly read the second one, his eyes widening slightly as he did. It was entirely unexpected, but given that it appeared now, it suddenly made an immense amount of sense as to why it hadn’t done so after his Adept Tempering.

SYSTEM MESSAGE

Congratulations, Leonidas! You have successfully upgraded a [Unique Skill!]

CATACLYSM OVERDRIVE

[Name]: Cataclysm Overdrive

[Quality]: Unique

[Description]: As the Terran Cataclysm, your potential is already vast, but the threats arrayed against you have only grown. Now, gifted with unique insights into your future, you have retained the memories of your darkest incarnation’s use of power. As a result, you are able to wield these insights and do so with greater prowess as you advance in power.

[Cost]: N/A

[Effect 1]: +100% all Attributes on Activation for 10 Minutes (168HR CD)

[Effect 2]: +100% all Resource Regeneration on Activation for 10 Minutes (168HR CD)

[Effect 3]: [Locked]

[Effect 4]: [Locked]

[Effect 5]: [Locked]

Leonidas fell backward with a pant of exhaustion when the System message appeared and swiped it away distantly, panting as he lay on the floor. The increase to [Cataclysm Overdrive] was an unexpected windfall, but he was too immediately tired to care about it in the main. If he was forced to use the skill any time soon, something had gone horribly wrong. The click of Ceruviel’s heels announced her approach, dismissing her [Psionic Force] barrier as she did. Upon arrival, his Mentor peered down at him with a raised eyebrow, gaze studying him curiously.

“I take it you succeeded,” she said simply, expression faintly amused.

“Yep,” Leonidas replied, grinning up at her. “I sure did. Got the Mana and Psi bonuses, some [Aetherium], an upgrade to [Cataclysm Overdrive] in the form of parity pegeneration boosts alongside an extra five minutes of use, and a celebratory message from ye olde System.”

Ceruviel smirked at him in approval.

“What are your Mana and Psi values now?”

Leonidas glanced at his HUD and then smiled.

“465 Mana, and 213 Psi,” he reported dutifully. “These bonuses are amazing.”

The Duchess chuckled and shook her head, reaching out to offer him a hand, which Leonidas accepted gladly—allowing the far stronger woman to haul him easily to his feet. At 6’8” and just shy of nearly 320 pounds, he was hardly light, but to his Venerate rank Mentor and her 125% passive Attribute boost from six Tiers of Tempering, he may as well have been a feather.

“You have a ways to go,” Ceruviel said without preamble, while wrinkling her nose at his perspiration, “but you’ve done well, Achilles, especially with the Skill upgrade. Three months is an excessive amount of time to complete Reinforcement, but with the malus in play, I suppose it couldn’t be helped. You’re going to have to ready yourself for your Tribulation sooner rather than later, as well.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said as he shook himself off and took an energizing breath, using a thread of Psi to pull the folded towel at the corner of the chamber to himself and wipe his sweat-soaked torso with it, before looping it around his neck. “Bardulf, Synthra, and Parnym keep heckling me about already being Contenders—and Kairi is dangerously close to Ascendant. My sister will be incorrigible if she reaches it before I reach Contender.”

Ceruviel chortled as she fell in with him and he strode toward the door, opening it with a turn of its inside handle and stepping out into the guarded hallway beyond.

“Your parents seem determined not to be left behind, lest you forget,” his Mentor said as she glanced at the maids who hurried into the room behind them, curtseying to Leonidas as they passed. “They’re both Elites already, as you know. I think your Father is determined to help guard you during your Tribulation.”

“Don’t remind me,” Leonidas sighed, nodding to Verity Durandal—also now an Elite—and her Echelon of ten Aureates when the renamed Royal Guard saluted him in greeting. “It’s bad enough that my mother is constantly dithering around Aylar. The Tribulation is going to be a whole other problem.”

Ceruviel just laughed at him when Leonidas set off down the corridor, and his Ordo Aureati bodyguards fell into formation alongside him; Verity herself walking half a step ahead as their group of thirteen—Leonidas, Ceruviel, Verity, and the ten Aureates—made its way through the palace. The changes wrought in the three months since the Cataclysm War were not small: he’d formalized the renaming of the Royal Guard into the Ordo Aureati, with its own creed and banner, and rearranged their formations as well.

Ten to an Echelon, with an Emeritus among them as leader; fifty to a Banner with a Vanarch at its head, and one hundred to a Chapter, with an Exemplar commanding it and its two Banners and ten Echelons. There were ten Chapters in the Ordo Aureati, each with its own standard, and the Ordo was led in its entirety by a Primarch, whose second was titled as Executor.

The entire reorganization had been met with skepticism at first, but with the Queen distracted by pregnancy, Leonidas had managed to win over the various Lance-Masters and Dagger-Masters, as they’d once been known, and institute his reforms. Almost three full months since he’d enacted the changes, the Aureati, as he called them, were very comfortable with their new ranks and numbers.

“Anything to report, Vanarch?” he asked of Verity, who glanced back at him with a faint smile.

“Nothing has happened that requires your immediate attention in the last four hours, Your Majesty. The House of Nobles and House of Commons are still debating amendments to the Constitution you and Her Majesty proposed, though the Charter of Liberties seems to have flown through without an issue. The adoption of the new language is proceeding apace, though you knew that already, and I believe the Queen is waiting for you in your chambers.”

Leonidas sighed at her words and shook his head.

“I didn’t send the Constitution to them so they could waste a week arguing about it. I did it as a courtesy in case anything was missed.”

“You introduced these representative seats to the Kingdom, Your Majesty,” Ceruviel pointed out when Verity just grinned and turned her head forward again. “I did warn you that it would cause you nothing but headaches.”

Leonidas grunted at that and followed Verity as she turned a corner toward the Palace’s grand entrance hall, glancing at Ceruviel sourly.

“The people need representation, Ceruviel, even if I keep complete power with the Throne. I’m not stupid enough to surrender my authority, but only a fool ignores the needs of their populace. I believe you told me that, as well.”

“I did,” the Last Archon said mildly, and then smirked. “But I didn’t mean for you to create two distinct political bodies whose sole purpose will be to try to bully you into what they want.”

“Isn’t that why I appointed you and Uriel as Arbiters?” he asked slyly.

“The Speakers take care of the day-to-day,” Ceruviel said haughtily. “I simply step in if someone is stupid enough to—”

“Your Majesty! How is the Queen?”

“Archon-King! When will you march on the Starhold?”

“King Leonidas! Is it true you almost had a Cataclysm episode?”

“Your Majesty—”

“King Leonidas—”

“Sovereign Pendragon—”

Leonidas turned at the shouts, and grimaced when he saw the Press clogged within the entrance hall, clearly waiting to try to catch a glimpse of him. The stability in the Kingdom had naturally evolved into the re-emergence of the press within Avalon, and Dawnhaven specifically had been lit aflame, culturally speaking, by his guarantee of a free press. Close to twenty different news outlets had formed in the past three months alone, and the advent of [Aetherium] cameras, as he called them, had done nothing to make it easier.

Tabloids, newspapers, and magazines had been printed like wildfire thanks to more widespread access to [Aetherium Store] goods within the market, courtesy of his own foolish benevolence, and mana-fuelled printing presses and rudimentary radio broadcasts had taken the Kingdom by storm. Sometimes he wanted to curse his own sentimental attachment to American culture.

Leonidas shook his head at the questions and ignored them, following Verity as she led the way toward the central staircase and turned his back on the gaggle of reporters. He’d allowed the public broad access to tour the palace, and even set up a wing for the appointed News Correspondents to inhabit during their assignment to the Palace, but sometimes he wanted to kick the lot of them to the curb.

“King Leonidas! What do you have to say about the allegations against your sister?!”

Leonidas paused mid-step at the question, and Ceruviel sighed heavily at his side when he did. His eyes narrowed, and the Archon-King turned halfway up the stairs, blue eyes shifting until they alighted upon the face of the dogged, redheaded Terran man that he recognized as the correspondent for the Daily News.

“What did you ask me?” Leonidas said, his voice schooled to careful calm.

The reporters fell silent when he spoke, and the correspondent swallowed, then spoke again.

“I asked about the recent allegations against Her Royal Highness relating to her participation in Crown-sanctioned assassinations, Your Majesty,” the man elaborated, his pale features respectably steady, blue eyes focused. “The people are concerned that the Crown has been eliminating political opposition—”

The man fell silent again when Leonidas took a single step down, and the Aureates turned, slamming their halberds against the manastone steps in echoing thunder.

“Let me be sure I understand,” Leonidas said as he narrowed his eyes and suppressed the seething irritation his [Cataclysm Core] urged him to embrace. “You’re asking me to reveal details about classified operations that may or may not be happening, and whether or not my sister is directly involved?”

The correspondent swallowed again and nodded.

“The people have a right to know if—”

“The people,” Leonidas cut him off, voice edged with the irritation he felt, “have a right to safety, Mister Thompson. If securing that safety requires bloodshed, then it will be necessary to enact bloodshed. Whether or not the Princess is involved in those matters is wholly irrelevant.”

The reporter hesitated for a moment and then took a step forward.

“The Charter of Liberties you created, Your Majesty, guarantees the right to seek answers from the Crown regarding—”

“Matters of succession, national crisis, terrorism, war, resource shortage, treasury, and non-classified national security, among others,” Leonidas cut in again, taking another step down as the Aureates slammed their halberds once more. “It does not cover matters of classified national security, Mister Thompson, of which you are very well aware.”

The reporter seemed to quail slightly under his stare and made a last-ditch effort, much to Leonidas’ mix of grudging respect and escalating irritation.

“With all the respect in the world, King Leonidas, the reports of those critical to your Rule being eliminated by a member of the Royal Family don’t fall under the umbrella of national security. A democracy—”

“Democracy?” Ceruviel asked, finally interjecting as she stepped forward, and caused a ripple of terror to roll through the correspondents. “Since when was this Kingdom a Democracy, you sniveling rodent? The King is the Law. You exist by his sufferance,” his Mentor continued viciously, her eyes faintly aglow. “Your Courts and Magistrates enforce his wishes, and exist by his will. You have your Charter by his benevolence. This is not a democracy, you odious toad, it is a Monarchy, one whose only limitation is what is declared by your System-avowed Sovereign. Were it up to me, I’d have you flogged for rank stupidity.”

Stunned and terrified silence met her words, and Leonidas sighed.

+I can’t say he didn’t have it coming, but that was harsh,+ he said, using the [Psionic Communication] Skill he’d finally acquired a month prior.

+You are too soft on these self-entitled vermin, Achilles. They have no concept of what you’ve done for them—they only seek more, more, more.+

+That’s the nature of people, Ceruviel. It always will be.+

Out loud, having had the conversation at the speed of thought, Leonidas shook his head.

“Despite the harshness of the Duchess’ words, there is truth in what she says. I created the Charter to instill equity among the peoples of Avalon, Mister Thompson, but if you recall, the very first words on that document are ‘By the will of the Sovereign’. I empathize with your American idealism, but I must decline to agree with your assertion: there is no political opposition in Avalon; there are only dissidents.”

The correspondents were silent for a long moment, until finally, the Reporter spoke again—his voice notably cowed.

“Some of us might ask if that is truly fair at all, Your Majesty.”

To that, Leonidas smiled, mirthless and cold.

“If you dislike how I run my Kingdom, Mister Thompson, then you should feel free to seek shelter under a different Dominion. Perhaps you’ll have better luck pursuing freedom far from my Kingdom’s walls and sworn armies.”

“...that would be a death sentence, Your Majesty,” the reporter replied in a nonplussed voice.

“Yes, it would,” Leonidas agreed readily. “So remember that the next time you want to complain about your lack of American idealistic democracy, Mister Thompson. I am and will remain King of Avalon. If you have an issue with that, raise an army and come conquer my throne. We’ll see if you do better than the last ones that tried.”

With that, Leonidas turned and ascended the stairs, leaving the gaggle of reporters behind him in stunned silence.

+So much for not being harsh,+ Ceruviel said smugly.

Leonidas could only grunt in response.