Cataclysm War | Chapter 80: Secrets in the Blood (First Draft)

Sunday, August 7, 4 S.E.

“Efficiency?” Leonidas questioned skeptically.

“Yes,” Primus said with the same smile. “Cataclysms, Your Majesty, are very dangerous existences. Your own experience in the Rite of Ascension showed you precisely where that sort of power can lead. The purpose of a Cataclysm is to create a state of enhanced urgency on an integrated world; to encourage the native populace and the colonizing Cultivators from other Integrated planets to gain strength rapidly to oppose them.”

“That’s it?” Leonidas asked with a raised eyebrow. “That seems far too simplistic, given what the last Administrator told me about the Divines.”

“There are always exceptions,” Primus conceded with a nod. “Cataclysms that defy the natural trend of self-destruction and move toward a more productive growth, but they are the rarest of the rare. In the untold millennia since the System started Integrations, less than a dozen Cataclysms have survived to complete the Path you now walk.”

Leonidas frowned at the explanation and abruptly shivered when he did, glancing down at himself.

“The shivers are new…” he murmured.

“That is because the È̴̝͋r̸̺͔̃̋r̶̐̿̆ͅo̵͎̱̥͂̕r̷̻͉̺̓ is closing in on you,” the Administrator informed him with the same calm tone. “Only your Venerate guardians are able to resist it, now.”

Leonidas snapped his eyes up and winced at another shiver racing up his spine.

“Okay, so then, to cut to the chase,” he said while fully aware that his time was very short, “the System created the Trial specifically to destabilize my mental state?”

“The Administrators, in fact, but yes,” Primus corrected and confirmed with another calm nod. “You were intended, I am sorry to say, to be susceptible to your [Cataclysm Core] and the dirge it naturally emits. You are not named a ‘Cataclysm’ without cause, Your Majesty. The point is that you are the greatest disaster your world will ever know, including the Integration.”

Leonidas threw his hands up at that revelation and felt anger surge within him, only to be forcibly placated by the aura of calm a moment later.

Instead of an outburst, as a result, he just sighed in mild annoyance.

“That’s pretty fucked up, Primus.”

“Everything in the System has a balance, Your Majesty,” the Administrator said unapologetically, his fingers bridging before him as he set his elbows on the table. “For you, it is the natural devolution of your mental state that accompanies your meteoric growth. Each Tribulation will make you incomparably more powerful than any peer Cultivators, even those one or more Ranks above—but conversely, your Core will grow more potent with each stage. Eventually, it is believed that it will drive you to madness.”

Leonidas raised his eyebrows at the explanation, then furrowed them shrewdly.

“I’m sensing a ‘but’,” he noted as another shiver lanced through him.

Primus smiled in response and inclined his head.

“But,” the Administrator said levelly, “there are, as I stated, always exceptions. Your Willpower Attribute, in particular, makes you a massive outlier. None of us know why the System chose to reward you with a particularly unique means of evading its own failsafe, that being [Cataclysm Core] influence, but the fact remains that it did. Your Willpower makes you singularly suited to resisting the destructive impulses of the dirge.”

Leonidas mulled over the information as the heat of his body grew more noticeable, and grimaced at the fact he could already feel himself running short on time—for more than one reason.

“Okay, then tell me this: Lyara Melredor. Elatra. Why the correlation? Aylar Eldormer, Altera, that can’t be a coincidence.”

Primus nodded again, once, and smiled wryly.

“Truthfully, Your Majesty, it was a matter of eventuality. What you Cultivators call Fate is non-existent. Your Mentor said it best: there is no luck in the System, only variables that have been exhaustively accounted for. You are all granted absolute agency, make no mistake about that, but the System can and will influence variables to work toward an outcome.”

Primus idly waved a hand before returning it to the bridge with his other and then continued. “In your case, Your Majesty, it was deduced that a relationship between yourself and Aylar Eldormer could result in a stabilization of your mindstate based on her Alphas, as you call them, and the natural inclination of your own subconscious attraction to her physical and mental attributes. The Integration Trial was designed to make that as improbable as possible, to prevent you from finding an easy resolution to your own woes.”

Leonidas stared at Primus for a long moment and then felt the irritation rise again.

“So Lyara was picked and inserted just because the mathematics run by the System indicated that Aylar, someone I’d never even met, might be a means to, what, stop me going fucking mental?”

“In essence?” Primus said calmly, “Yes.”

“That’s insane,” Leonidas said immediately as his body grew uncomfortably hot, and then flashed with an icy shiver again. “The odds of her and I even meeting must have been astronomical!”

“In your view of it, certainly,” Primus agreed steadily. “Within the purview of a Universe-spanning System? Much less so. The System and its multitudinous sub-nodes manage everything, Your Majesty. As a Cataclysm, you are one of the very few existences that must be directly accounted for. If you believe that the odds were infinitesimal, I assure you, in the Universal Calculus, they were far from negligible.”

Leonidas instinctively gripped his shirt and flapped it as the heat built, and his expression settled into a grimace of discomfort.

“Okay, sure, so final question, then, since I can feel myself running out of time.”

“By all means,” Primus said pleasantly.

“My family,” Leonidas said immediately. “Why are they so strong? I understand my case, but my Parents, my Sister, my Grandparents… what’s the deal there?”

Primus smiled more widely at his question, and his eyes flashed with amusement.

“Well, that’s simple, Your Majesty,” the Administrator said with amusement. “That is because your Ancestor, Arthur Pendragon, was a Cultivator.”

*

Kairi gritted her teeth against the anger boiling inside of her.

Her parents and their idiotic need to put the safety of a bunch of worthless hangers-on before their own children, her sister-in-law, and her fanatical desire to be the voice of reason—not entirely unappreciated, but in the moment, still exceptionally annoying—and worst of all, her utter powerlessness in being unable to help her brother.

She could see Leonidas hanging in the Arena, suspended in the column of light, as Ceruviel and Uriel exchanged reality-shattering blows with the immense whatever the thing was lurching out of the clouds, and she could do nothing to help. The Duke and Duchess were awe-inspiring by themselves, delivering impactful strikes that shook the world around them with the force of their power, and forcing back the gaping maw with every hit—pushing the thing back toward the clouds.

No sound came from the serpentine head, despite its writhing at the assaults, as if it weren’t truly part of the world—just a projection, stubbornly refusing to be cast back into whatever nightmare had spawned it. Her hands on her swords tightened, and she felt her [Titan Slayer] Ambition reacting to the creature’s presence, urging her forward as her [Nightreaper Core] accelerated reactively within her dantian.

Still, better sense won out over impetuous rage, and she stood—impotent, furious, and traitorously afraid—while she watched the two Haelfenn do battle to protect her only brother from the voidspawned horror that was trying to assail him.

“Thank the Divines for them,” Parnym murmured quietly, surprising Kairi, who hadn’t even sensed the quiet Mender’s approach. “His Majesty will be alright while the Regents are here.”

Kairi’s eyes glanced at her new lover silently, and then returned to Leonidas.

“I should be there helping him, Parnym,” she replied with frustration, showing an edge of desperation in her words which she hated. “He’s my brother. I should be able to protect him.”

The Mender glanced at her when she spoke, and then reached out, gently, to set a pale hand on her elbow. Parnym was average height for a Haelfar, but that meant he was still almost half a head taller than Kairi, and she glanced up at him when he set his palm on her arm.

“You’re here for him, Kairi,” the man said quietly. “That’s what matters, in the end.”

Kairi hesitated at his words and then blew out a sigh, impulsively grabbing his hand and looping his arm around her shoulder as she pulled herself under his far weaker embrace.

“You know,” she said in a grumble, “you’re pretty good at soothing people.”

“I’m a Mender,” the Haelfar replied while bravely ignoring the blush on his cheeks and ears, and the looks her parents were no doubt directing toward them. Hypocrites. As if they deserved the right to judge. “My duty is to safeguard life, and His Majesty is no exception.”

“Why do you call him that?” Kairi asked immediately, enjoying the faint scent of rosemary that seemed to cling to the svelte healer. “You’re part of his Party, right? Why not keep calling him Ace?”

Parnym took a moment to think about her question, and Kairi felt herself soften a little more. That quiet thoughtfulness, the gentleness, the way that Parnym seemed to put stock in the importance of every word—that was what had attracted her to him in the first place. That, and how shy he was.

Well, shy in public, at least—as she’d discovered to her great enjoyment.

Her cheeks flushed slightly at the memory.

“Some things transcend simple friendship,” Parnym answered finally, his arm around her shifting to be more comfortable as his fingers reached up to caress and soothe her scalp in the way she adored him doing. “Your brother is a King and an Archon, Kairi. That means something, not just to my people, either. Symbols like that… they’re important. Important enough that I think they should be respected.”

Kairi frowned a little at his words and sighed quietly.

“You won’t catch me calling him by his dumb titles,” she muttered.

“Perhaps not,” Parnym said with faint amusement, “but we’ll see.”

Kairi grimaced at that implication, and her eyes lifted again to the scene in the arena as her jaw tightened in stress. The storm raged above them still, bilious and violent, lashing at the barrier the Royal Guard were working overtime to maintain and wield in order to protect Dawnhaven against the sky’s fury. Leonidas still hung helplessly in the sky, defenseless against the thing that Ceruviel and Uriel were still assaulting with more power than she’d have conceived was possible, almost overwhelming her senses with the mere echoes of their strength.

She needed something—anything—to keep herself grounded as her heart constricted in worry.

On a whim, Kairi reached into Parnym’s robe and, without warning, lightly pinched his bottom.

Parnym, ever-surprised, jumped at the unexpected touch and looked at her askance.

“You can pay me back later,” Kairi promised in a low purr, desperate for a distraction from her brother’s situation. “With interest.”

The Mender’s subsequent blush and mumbled agreement were exactly what she needed to smile.

*

“Arthur Pendragon was a Cultivator?” Leonidas asked in a bewildered voice, all while feeling the heat increasing with alarming speed. “How the hell is that even possible? Terra wasn’t even close to being Integrated back then.”

“I believe we are running out of time,” the Administrator replied calmly, “but I will leave you with this: transition between worlds, especially non-System worlds, is a very heavily restricted feat—but there are some within the System capable of such miracles. Arthur himself was wholly Terran, but the one who guided him and showed him the way was not.”

Leonidas blinked rapidly, and his eyes widened.

“Merlin?” he asked in disbelief. “Merlin was a fucking Alien?”

“A [Worldwalker], to be precise,” Primus answered with a nod. “A particularly powerful one. He was a peak Saint Cultivator who took an interest in whether he could prepare a world for Integration by seeding a bloodline capable of more profoundly responding to the System’s gifts. His experiment was not a complete success, but in light of you asking the correct question, I will give you a reward that will help you unlock your bloodline more fully.”

The Administrator snapped his fingers, and a System screen appeared abruptly.

SYSTEM MESSAGE

Congratulations Leonidas! You have unlocked a [Lineage Quest]!

INHERITANCE OF PENDRAGON

[Quality]: Mythic

[Description]: You have learned that your bloodline’s ancestor, King Arthur Pendragon, was a Cultivator under the tutelage of the Saint rank worldwalker Merlin. To discern the truth behind the secrets of your bloodline, you must find and claim the Inheritance of Pendragon, namely King Arthur’s sword: [Excalibur].

[Quest Objective(s)]:

Discover the true history of your Lineage

Claim rightful ownership of [Excalibur]

[Optional Objective(s)]:

Reclaim the [Worldwalker Grimoire]

Discover Arthur Pendragon’s Fate

Leonidas stared at the quest screen, then looked up at Primus.

“Seriously?” he asked in disbelief. “A Mythic Quest? Just like that?”

Primus smiled at him mysteriously in response and shrugged his shoulders.

“Sometimes, Your Majesty, curiosity can be a rewarding trait.”

Leonidas swallowed and felt his hands curl into fists reflexively as another wave of heat rolled through his veins, and he gasped despite himself, feeling his [Cataclysm Core] starting to vibrate with a ferocity that very nearly shook his entire body.

“And with that,” Primus said before Leonidas could speak, “we truly are out of time. I may not see you during your next Tribulation, but I look forward to seeing what wonders you will achieve before then, Your Majesty,” the Administrator said with a faint smile. “I wish you luck on your journey. Given what is coming for your nascent Kingdom, I daresay you will need it.”

Leonidas snapped his eyes to Primus at that.

“Wait, what? What’s coming? Hold on, Primus, don’t just—”

Leonidas’ words cut off as Primus, with the same mysterious smile, waved his fingers at him—and a blink later, he opened his eyes in the middle of the blazing pillar of light, unable to move, but instantly reminded of what would come next.

Oh, he thought to himself as his suspended head took in the sight of the battle raging above him, and the looming maw of immaterial shadow that was defying Uriel and Ceruviel’s combined power as they fought to keep it at bay, that can’t be good.