74 Divination

[A/N: And after a long wait, I gift you a long chapter. Enjoy!]

Michael then entered head first into the dark carriage.

The atmosphere and lighting inside was both damp and lackluster. Mirroring an ancient attic found inside an abandoned building.

The walls were grayed out, and there sat dark table in the middle of the room. Peacefully laying united with a rotten wooden chair aimed in his direction, and four melting wax candles glued on each edge. Holding onto their own specks of yellow fire which burnt on top.

But behind the haunting display, there was something else which caught Michael's attention.

"Sit down..."

From the other end of the table, a hoarse feminine voice crawled over. Belonging to what he figured to be hooded old hag seemingly starting her journy past the hundred year mark.

Her entire figure was completly covered in a textile of similar color to the one outside, but despite the mysterious whisper and the dark cowl covering her ashen body, there was a certain warmth excluded from the old lady's position. It was simply unfitting.

But Michael didn't say much and only sat down. Pushing his stomach against the table, adjusting his body, and crossing his arms before starting to speak.

"So, lady. How does this divination stuff work?" His voice was filled with an arrogant sense of pride. Almost as if he demanded an answer.

"Sixteen is enough." The hag answered him with an crackling ring.

And to her response, Michael flickered the silver ring on his finger. Pulling out a bunch of glistening yellow coins and throwing them across the table.

The circular slices of gold all fell before her hazy figure. However, she did not pick them. Rather, a raspy chuckle flowed over the metal like the greedy gaze of a starved theif. Seeping with a gluttonous intent.

"To pull so much money out on the spot.... Did you perhaps rob some rich household?" The hag hoarsly whispered.

Michael didn't answer. Only proceeding to lean over the table while impatiently waiting for her to begin with a netrual wince.

And to the lack of words, the old woman chose to act. Laughing away the boy's rudness while retriving something similar to a white glass ball from underneath the table.

"I see, I see...." Her voice grew slightly more gentle everytime she spoke. Almost as if trying to calm the boy down.

However, just when Michael felt himself regain some of his calm composure, the hag once more spoke. Coughing out a line of words which snapped the string of ease tying his mind.

"You are different from the beastlords I have met.. But then again, those with the blood of Czar have always been of the short tempered type. Yet, I would say you are more impulsive than the rest...or mabye disciplined?"

The set of words grinded against his ear canal like a brittle cloud of sulfur. Slowly making it's way into the drum, until eventually reaching his brain. Burning against the frail tissue like an acidic powder.

Michael felt his heartbeat speed up, the nerves in his body fire up, and a chaotic flow of power begin to rush through his veins after registering what she said.

He was going to snap the table in half and instantly behead the old lady with the combined might of his beasts. However, before he could act, she signaled him with a reassuring set of words and a wave of her shriveled up hand.

"Worry not, stray welp. What you are does not matter to me. As long as you pay, I wouldn't even care if you were a Devil. Now ease yourself. This takes time."

Michael didn't want to just leave it at that, but the authenticity of her words weren't something he managed to internally question. Almost as if he could validate what she said.

And so, with a heavy heart, he sat back down. Dissatisfiedly pushing himself further into the chair.

His response made the hag nod her head from benath the cloak and go back to work. Smearing her white tire-like hands onto the smooth glass ball.

*Crack!!*

However, right when her hands did a full rotation around it, the ball suddenly cracked apart. Shattering into large translucent shards which then further withered away into smaller fragments. Eventually dispersing into the faint air flow that traveled by the vax candles.

"Is that supposed to happen?" Michael, who was intently sitting on the opposite end, lifted up his eyebrows and question. A little unsure of what she was doing.

But despite his call, the robed woman did neither move nor say anything. Silently gazing upon the dispersing fragments of ice without a word.

"Hello?" Michael once more called to her. This time more forceful.

And as his majestic bellow trembled into the confide space, a sudden shiver thunder through the hag's cloak.

"Ch...Chaos....!?" She stunningly stuttered. Her voice penetrating the layer of confidence spread out by Michael's lingering aura. Shattering it like a set of crumbs trying to stand against the weight of a truck.

Feeling his presence being overpowered by the old hag's loss for words sparked a sense of danger within the core of Michael's body. Removing any thoughts about attacking her or recklessly charging.

However, while he felt the intimidating blanket of heat retract into the hag's body, she once more spoke out. This time much more respectfully. Almost as if she now saw herself sitting before the royal heir to a kingdom.

"To think that... No, forgive me for the minor inconvenience. I.....will resume in second..."

Michael wanted to ask what the hell she meant, but before he could talk, another act started to unfold.

This time, the hag retrieved what looked like a bowl of dimly lit liquid mercury from under the table. It violently swished back and forth like a sort of gel, yet did not manage to spill over the edge. Remaining locked in the wooden embrace of the container.

"Now let's see..."

The hag then slammed it onto the wooden board seperating her figure from Michael's. Causing the contents to further slosh around like an unstable tide.

Michael did not interupt her once. Only finding himself intently staring whilst also printing down the next following actions.

For after the robed lady aligning the box with her body, she then spread out her hands. Lifting them up in the shape of a cross.

And with her black cloak thined out, the boney white hands sticking out on each side gave off some weak quivers. Almost seeming like a vibration was sendt through her ancient bones.

But while Michael kept looking over the weird pose, a brittle sense of movement caught the attention of his blue and gold eyes.

The viscous silver liquid seemed to react to the hags actions. Evident by the deep metallic mud beginning to visibly boil. Bubbling up more rapidly for each passing second. As if a group of divers inside had lost their gear and were now fighting to reach the surface.

And so, alongside the unstable movements, the metal started to take on a lighter red color closely resembling raw meat, before then abrubtly removing the shackles of gravity.

It was as if a vortex of air had brewed up over the olden case. Staring to steadily siphon up the contents like an invisible snake wildly satiating it's thirst.

'I can't sense any sort of essence here. How is she lifting it up then?'

"Now..." She hoarsly whispered.

The hag swiftly crossed the gaping arms shut. Sealing the void air surrounding her body with a wild embrace.

The metal then followed. Conversing into several burning orbs, who then again split up. Eventually forming into a multitude of poker deck numbering into sixteen.

And as the cards finished taking form, the hag let her arms fall down onto the creaking brown table alongside the cooling alloy shards.

Michael, who finally lost his patience, locked his full attention at the evenly spread stack who now stood in the shape of a pyramid. Wanting to flip the all over.

However, before he could touch one, the old lady hoarsly pushed his rising hand away with some of her aura and a gentle question.

"Pick one of the four above, Lord of Beasts, and I will tell what your future hold."

'Only the four above? What a joke....'

Both satisfied, yet still unsure of what she meant by only the four above, Michael weakly grunted at her before pointing his hand at the one on top. Demanding that she turn it around.

The hag only nodded in response and waved her hand. Causing both the card and Michael's unmoving gaze to flip over.

But as it flew onto the other side, Michael narrowed his eyes. Unable to understand what this so called divinations meant.

Etched onto the hardened metal shard was the image of what should be a four eyed serpentine dragon. It's body was littered with large thorns, and it's head beared the mighty crown of a reptilian sovereign.

However, while he ran through what the image might mean, his train of thought was ended by a sharp sting in the form of a gentle breath.

"Through your life you will meet many who are worthy of affection. However, you will only take one lover. And a four eyed dragon at that.." But while she spoke with her hoarse voice, the hag abruptly stopped. For the card she had just turned suddenly began to move on it's own.

On the four sharp edges on the item, some faint cracks were beginning to appear. Slowly making their way towards the dragon's head before stopping.

She did not resume before after the action had ceased. Eventually beginning to talk once more, but this time with a more wary tone. One displaying a clear unease.

"But be careful, welp. For even dragons are not guaranteed to live forever..."

Michael moved his eyes back to the hooded lady while he grimaced. This time respectfully answering back.

"Are you saying I will end up alone?"

His eyes glued themselvs onto the covered head of the hag. And although her face could not be seen, a set of feeble vibrations could be seen moving underneath. Almost making it seem as if she understandably smiled at him.

"Don't be like that. Those who bear the blood of Czar have been known to never take more than a single mate in their life."

"Or that's what I have heard...."

Michael wanted to say something more, but before his lips could utter the thirsting questions he had in store, another card rolled around.

However, to Michael's astonishment, he was not the only one shocked by the sudden move. For from the corner of his vision, he saw something resembling a quake of suprise shoot out from the cloaked body before him. No, did she perhaps order it to turn?

"Let's continue then." The hag said with a craggy tone.

Michael didn't say anything and just looked over the metal shard. Engraving it's features into his mind with a frown, while also listening to the old lady speak.

On the new card, seven images were for display. First was a bundle made up of five withered claws you would most likely identify as belongings of an undead. All tightly stacked next to each other like a the bones of a rotting animal.

Meanwhile, next to them, a type of broken antler laid. Not only rippled with cracks and dents, but It also gave of a feel similar to the withered claws. Yet, despite the clear shallowness, it still stood with it's beaten frame pridefully aimed upwards.

However, Michael ignored both the hands and the antler. Going over to sew the pupils within his tainted eyes tightly onto a small object laying in between the two body parts.

'What the...'

His heart began to beat faster as he saw something resembling a severed ear. No, this was no ordinary ear. Actually...

'It looks like.....my own?'

But as Michael tried to identify the flab, the old woman's words softly brushed past his head once again like the creak of an old door. Reeling back in the now dormant consciousness like a sinking fishing line.

"Battles that will prove worthy to savour will lovingly embrace you. However, I cannot guarantee you will come out unscathed. So pick your actions wisely."

And after finishing, the hag lifted up her shriveled hand back up in a familiar manner. Causing yet another sheet of metal to spin around and hit the wooden table before Michael had the chance to say something.

"Eh?" Michael stuttered out after seeing it.

This time, the image imprinted on the molded alloy displayed something he felt familiar to, yet was also unable to completely recognize.

Shaped on the surface of the card laid the body of a four armed, faceless woman. Her hair was charred in the color of sulfur, yet her non existent eyes held something similar to a green tint. Giving of a vengeful aura belonging to a tyrant.

'This is...'

However, before he could completely affirm his suspicious about what the image meant, his eyes seemed to naturally wander over to the figure next to it.

Beside the floating woman, a broken beak seperated into nine mutilated pieces laid spread. It reminded Michael of an abandoned set of remains belonging to someone who never was granted any care.

But whilst Michael started to puzzle the pieces togheter, a pally voice drew upon him.

"Two gifts. One who waits, and one who fades...."

Michael lifted his chin up and tiringly gazed at the robed woman once more with a heavy heart. Guilt slowly became clear inside his blue and yellow eyes, and it birthed a type of agonizing rash which burrowed into his soul.

However, this was no ordinary pain. For it was one he was still unable to point it out.

From the abyss within his body, a grey whisp of smoke started to once again burrow itself up. Drilling out from the locked prison, and then seeping into Michael's soul.

It seemed that, unknowingly, his body had acted without his manuel order. Calling upon a force, whatever it may be, to help ease his growin sense of fault.

And to it's request, the machine made from Michael's cells had acted. Integrating another set of the Czar Beastlord's instinct into his fibers.

The pain started to disappear. Replacing itself with a stagnating desire for longing and a gluttonous hunger. Then, it morphed the guilt. Forging it into a maddening thirst for battle and completion which nailed itself into every atom that made up his body.

And as his brain and soul twitched back and forth, Michael looked back at the hooded lady with a scrutinizing glare while his eyes steadily took on a neon yellow color. Visibly radiating out an unstable sea of rage which threatened to spill over.

"She wait not in this land, and he wait not in this world...."

The once blue eyes kept on getting corrupted by the yellow light that stemmed from within his sockets, and his gray-ish hair turned darker and sharper. Bit by bit, swallowing it up until...

"But you will one day see them again." The hag tenderly whispered. Making sure to help alleviate some of the burden placed on the boy's heart. Stopping the growing epidemic that threatened to consume him.

Michael clearly heard her, and with the force of reassurances, he managed to calm down. Tilting his head down and aiming his almost completely yellow eyes on the last card which was now flipped over.

On this card laid the image of a broken, uneven mask. One side was happily smiling, reflecting the joy of life. However, the other side held a clear, sunken curve aimed straight down. Drowned in both torment and loath which dripped out from the agonizing expression.

These sides were so similar, yet obviously incompatible. Only strung together through a forced move of fate, and bound by an oath thicker than any vocal promise.

But the mask was only one of the present figures that had appeared. For a circle made of several whisps of smoke rotated around it. Imprisoning it like an island surrounded by continues waves of madness which forever refused to depart.

"What is this supposed to mean?" Michael had already reached his limit and respectfully demanded she tell him what it meant.

"Face your coming battles, and you will see the one you thought was lost. Run, and you might never meet again."

Michael tightened the muscles in his eyes to her choice of words. Focusing all possible attention at the covered head.

"And who will I meet if I stay then?" He harsly responded to her.

A soft moment of silence covered the two as Michael waited for an answer. Ending only aftet the hag's voice echoed back at him.

"I cannot say... But he is younger than me."

'Younger than you?'

This time, Michael finally grew tired of her hints. His vocal cord started to strain itself, and his voice became more refined and contorted. Shooting at the hag's body like a jet of water.

"What about the rest of the card."

Michael's words sparked up a short breeze which brushed over the hags cloak. Pushing it ever so slightly backwards.

"I cannot say what they are... Or how they came to be..."The hag answered him. Letting the hood which surmounted her head continue to topple down.

"But I can hear their pressured whispers which endlessly whirl around in the deep. Commanding to one day be set free from the wretched abyss which has spawned them." Her voice grew more unstable, and her hood continued to fall like an avalanche shot from the top of a mountain. Eventually spilling over and revealing a sharp, wrinkled chin.

"And what do they say?" Michael asked. Never once removing his eyes away from the hag's exposing face.

"They repeat but a single set of words... The name of their afflicted keeper who they will forever try to topple..." As she continued, the aged voice became more akin to the sound of a broken horn. Rattling away like the ball of a rusted bell while her hood fell off.

Michael's eyes widened at the sight. Her bald skin, although clearly affected by time, still held a sturdy texture similar to metallic silk. However, her eyes.. No, those were not eyes.

Planted inside her sockets laid two glass pearls. Identical to the scrying ball that just broke into pieces.

They seemed to large to fit. Almost making it look like...someone had lodged them inside with the most brutal of force.

"They call for a name." But her low screech continued on while he watched his afterimage move inside the mirroring trinkets. Calling out the one thing he would not forget.

"They call for yours, Michael."

Michael kept staring into the glassy white eyes which perfectly reflected his facial features. Gazing past the elderly cover which made up the hag's face and the bald head. Bathing in his own image which seemed to be like an open book before the peering doors of glass.

Unable to look away, as his mind felt almost spellbound by the sight, Michael took a moment to use the moment of clarity to calm himself.

"...I persume that is all?" After a moment, Michael spoke again. His voice having gone back to normal.

The old woman did not say anything for the first second. Only closing her eyes after she made sure that her prophesy was right and then satisfyingly smiling at him.

"Do you not want to know what the other twelve cards mean?" She said. Her tone also seeming to having reverted back.

"I would like to, yes. But will you show me?"

The hag's wrinkled smile grew wider and more uneven. Pulling further upon the leathery white skin which was tied onto her ancient bones.

She softly brushed past her cloak with one of the wrinkled hands. Retrieving something before gently placing the objects onto the table.

It was two folds of white paper. Each one had a set of writings on them which were to blurry for Michael to read.

"The first one is a gift from me. A token of my good will in hopes of you hearing out a simple request of mine." The old lady muttered.

"A gift?" Michael asked with a questioning tone as he lifted his gaze.

She met Michael's interested gaze with an expression carved out of integrity. Smirking and lifting he wrinkled skin above her closed eyelids.

"Yes, a gift. I sense you practice a battle art. However, beginning with such a thing at the king layer is not how it works."

"An art is supposed to train and transform your body from the day your practice it. And your layer will advance alongside said technique. Or that's for humans and beasts like yourself who hold such capabilities." The hag finished up with a gentle tone of speech. Making sure he heard her clearly.

"What did you say?!" A jolt of shock sprawled out from Michael's brain after he registered what she said. He felt like a fool who had just opened a book. Trying to understand everything through the first page, but only to find out much more was held in store.

"Even with a second nuclei, your level is still that of a higher lord. After all, you have not become a king yet." The hag brutally responded.

'So I reached the emperor layer with the help of Andev's core? Then I still need to evolve in order to properly advance or train until breaking through.'

"A higher lord as in a peak beastlord? Then there must be several ranks for a Czar Beast?" However, Michael ignored the ring of honesty. Continuing to wildly question her about the true depths of her answer with a bewildered voice.

The old woman smiled back while pushing over on of the papwr folds to his side. Proceeding to gently narrate the ranks of a Czar Beastlord.

"For every hundredth man, there is a beastsoldier. For every thousandth, there is a beastmaster. And for every ten thousandth, there is a beastlord.." Her voice was similar to one found in a caring grandma. Happily informing Michael about what he asked.

"Meanwhile, for every hundredth thousandth, there will be a king." But as she came to what seemed to be the end, the voice grew more apathetic. Closing itself off like an iron gate.

Michael frowned at the remark and just coughed at her to continue. Not sure why she just stopped like that.

"What comes above that then?"

However, he did not receive the same loving explanation this time. Instead, an angry growl lashed against his body like a newly oiled whip.

"You are not ready to deal with such power yet, stray welp. But yes, I hope you can at least consider my next request after taking this." The old woman mysteriously whispered to him before pulling herself back.

"It's a [Regression Technique]. Helping your body adapt and be enhanced thoroughly by new arts before reaching the level of a divine being. Use it to learn that impressive technique you currently practice. It will help it have a more complete effect, and it's quite rare to come by in these parts." She then continued while shifting her locked eyes towards the paper slip near Michael's body.

He looked back into her closed eyelids with some new expectations. What could this woman, who clearly hid her strength rather well have to request from him?

"And what is your request?" Michael asked her with a mellow tone.

The old woman smiled once again at his undeniable recognition. Satisfied that he was willing to hear her out until the end.

"How about you become my pet beast?"

However, no matter how charmingly she said it, her request made Michael's stomach twist and turn in disgust. Even his body got sick by only the thought of joining in on such an idea.

After all, when Jenkins had formed an agreement with him, they joined under a contract which was pretty fair. Even tilting in favor of himself if you ignored the opening for betrayal. But this sounded like something which was between a pet and it's master.

"No. I belive our business is done. Farewell." He did not even bother to ask her anything more and angrily snap back at her. Going over to swiftly stand up from where he sat and march out with his cloak draping behind.

The old woman did not say anything as Michael left. But the smiling expression she previously had died down and returned to one showing apathy.

As Michael exited out with a heavy set of footsteps, the old woman once more opened her glassy eyes. Pointing them in the direction of where the unturned cards laid.

Her eyelids weakly quivered as she glared at them with the haunted gaze. Ordering the shards to turn around with an unmatched power which could command fate itself to move.

They switched sides with the utmost haste. And as they did, a regretful sigh escaped the withered diviner's lips. Throwing out both an exhalation of hot air, and a punishing whisper which burnt into the cards that were currently rearranging themselvs.

"Pitiful child. May you pray to the forces of Chaos that they change your fate..." Her voice was cruel and cold, like a soothing melody of pure logic.

The cards eventually finished moving. And as they did, the diviner eyed down the ones above while slowly moving towards the bottom.

On the top now laid seven of them lined up. Imprinted with one singular mask each. They all smiled mockingly down at every organism underneath. Holding nothing but disgust and loath for whatever was not of themselvs.

Meanwhile, below them, a single card laid. Burnt with the image of a crying devil that was cursed from the day of it's birth. It begrudgingly stared down at the last four cards which were painted with their own cleaved off head. Each one containing an expression of pure anguish and torture, but seemed to once have belonged to a loving family.

And while the diviner's scrying eyes fell upon the last batch, she finished her sentence. It crawled out from her now fading body which slowly dispersed into the wind. Eating away at the cards existence while also extinguishing the encompassing vax candles.

"Or there will be nothing in your short life but pain..."

"Horrendous, unending pain....and death."

.....

But as the diviner currently cursed and prayed for him, Michael made his way back to the inn. Ignoring all passersbyers and quickly entering his room.

Just as he remembered it, the aged cabin-like chamber had not changed. Still containing the bed, bench, window and the scent of treebark and alcohol.

Michael delicately glanced at the sight with his almost completely yellow eyes before throwing himself onto the bed. Sitting down with his back hunched, and silently calling out a command to the existence he held most familiarity with.

"Show me my evolutions." His voice was domineering, but also visibly tired and regretful. Holding onto the previous experience with an almost vengeful hold.

---

.

[Evolutions available 2/2]

.

[Czar'Beastking: A king amongst beasts and a force to never be underestimated. They are dominant and possessive by nature, and eat only the flesh of those they deem worthy. The Czar'Beastking has the ability to make weaker beasts submitted to them through sheer hostility. Possessing an unparalleled might which causes the weak to die in fear, and a hide able to withstand an equally fearful wrath. They have an innate ability to transform into a colossal monster reflecting their wild urges. [Lycanthropy].

.

[Hel'Saz: A creature made from the cells of every spawn created by the divine beings [Hel'Nor] and [Chayah]. It's supposedly called an almost perfect existence, possessing an agile body that cannot be broken by regular means, but sadly also a mind which can do naught but demand death, as it is inflicted with the agonizing pain and regret of millions of failed experiments. Causing an eternal lust for carnage. The Hel'Saz has the ability to curse itself, turning it's body into a ruinous weapon. [Cells of The Cursed].

.

---

The system answered his request with the familiar translucent textboxes. Radiating out the informative glow which he had not seen in a while.

However, while looking at the two choices he had, Michael got a second idea. Quickly emitting it out through his mouth in the form of a question.

"Can I evolve any of my other forms?"

-

.

[Negative. Host's physical form is tied to [Hominid Bloodlines]

.

-

But despite his deep excitement, he received not the answer he wished for. However, it was not completely dissatisfactory, as it helped enlighten him in what path to pursue further. Birthing a thoughtful smirk on his red lips, and a gentle speech of intellectual pride.

"I see. So I guess that all hominid forms I have can be evolved. And my [Autrarion] is not at a hundred percent yet, which should explain why I only have two choices.. I should see how far the [Endless Evolution] ability will take me before fusing the current two togheter..."

"But I wonder. In the future, will I be able to freely evolve all the beasts I have in store, or will I create a single creature with an unparalleled might?"

Michael's mind kept wander about the different combinations and ideas about his future form. Would he make a beast which could fuse everything into one, or many who held no equal?

Yet, as Michael kept thinking about it, a clear determination rouse from his core. Igniting his desire for fulfillment, and making him remember the sacrifice of the one who he now considered his brother. Once more making him loyally swear to make everything right with this second chance.

And with his heart rekindled once more, the dangerous glint in his eyes burnt. Hurriedly aiming the flaring gaze down at the system's screen with a lustful fervour.

Michael's entire mouth then formed into a nefarious smile, his heart once more started to rattle, and his neck tightened as the final choice was made. One that could not be reversed.

"Evolve me into the Beastking!"

....