Chapter 243

Chapter 243

Chapter 243

Queen Bez looked upon the ratkin woman she’d once called friend with only a mild amount of guilt, but that did not stop her from what needed to be done. Even despite Rasthalia’s begging sobs, and fully knowing she was using Rashtalia as a scapegoat and focal point for her people’s rage, to maintain order over the angry masses.

She stretched out a blood covered hand from the crimson pool, cutting the ropes binding Rashtalia with a slim clawed finger. The brood mother flinched but waited, hopeful, for her queen’s final decision.

“I’m going to think-miss on our time-places together, but your time-life has come to an end. Be quiet-silent.” Bez lifted her hand and engaged her magic, and Rashtalia immediately snapped her mouth shut as the rest of her body went rigid - muffling her sounds to a silent, shaking sob. Her lips still quivered and water continued to stream down her face from wide terrified eyes.

Bez turned to the bishop Prek. “You may start-proceed.”

The bishop across from her in the blood pool nodded just once, as Bez’s hand fell to her side, and Prek’s came up. Rashtalia stiffened and was lifted into the air face up while her body became flat as a board and hovered over them, before settling down just a foot over the bloody bath. Strands of her remaining brown patches of hair drifted down gently around her, her breasts rose and fell faster and faster, and her eyes flickered back and forth to the six people looking down on her.

The other priestesses around the pool drew themselves in closer.

“Begin the ritual-rite.” Prek said without looking up. The four priestesses all began to chant new verses in ancient tongues that they had memorized by heart, shifting their bodies forward in the waist-deep waters of the red and green bath under the light of numerous candles. Each held their hands up and out above their heads as the verses continued rhythmically, and their dead, green eyes soon began to burn with unholy flames.

“The sacrifice-slaves, and all others-kin who call on the great winged rat, must be bathe-bathed in blood.” Prek stated, and the naked bishop flipped the palms of his skeletal, clawed hands over. Rashtalia was immediately dropped into the pool and then brought back up via psychic power to hover a foot over the bath again. Turning to look at Bez, he walked around Rashtalia and put a hand on the queen’s shoulder.

“May I have-take the honor of bathing-baptizing you, my queen-leader?” The bishop was reverent as he addressed her, and the sincerity of his reverence was apparent.

“You may-may.”

Prek let out a low hum, ignoring the gagged exclamations and sobs from Snagger and Mesha, and dunked Bez beneath the blood’s surface. He let the warm bodily fluid engulf both of them completely for a couple of seconds before bringing Bez back up. One by one Prek went to each of the priestesses and did the same with them. Each time the woman would come up and begin the chant again as if she had never stopped. Before long Prek submerged himself in the pool as well and came up dripping in the fine red liquid.

“THE SECOND! THE THIRD! AND THE FOURTH!”

The drums continued to boom. The fire-drawn tapestry of flickering symbols about them rose several feet in height.

The same ritual baptism was then performed on each of the other captives, each of them going rigid and floating above the blood-filled bath to be dunked and taken back out. Bishop Prek positioned each of them in a line, with Rashtalia first, Snagger second, Mesha third, and finally Riven as last.

Prek gave another signal over the thundering drums, and each of the four priestesses chose one of the victims - starting to carve sigils into their chests while three of the four started to whimper and scream through the magics restraining them.

The fourth though, he didn’t react at all. Riven remained naked, hovering over the bath as the ratkin priestess cut deep into his ribcage and sternum with a jagged, rusty knife - not even blinking as blood continued to drip from the mana-suppression shackles, collar, and sigil already etched into his forehead. His red eyes seemed unusually dull, as if his mind was somewhere else, and if anyone had been paying close attention to the metal bands that were supposed to be keeping his mana restrained - they would have seen the faint, deep purple cracks creeping along the metal.

“GREAT WINGED ONE, CHOSEN FATHER-KIN OF US-WE!” Bishop Prek screamed into the air as the priestesses finished carving the necessary sigils into the bodies of all four victims - each of the clergy coming back to the first of the four live sacrifices and surrounding Rashtalia while muttering chants under their breaths. “WE ASK-SAY THAT YOU COME BLESS-HELP US WITH YOUR GIFT-POWER! WE TAKE LIFE-LIVES FROM THE WORLD, FROM PANU-WORLD OF ELYSIUM, AND SAY-SAY THAT YOU COME-TRAVEL BACK THROUGH THE GATE-DOOR THAT BARS-STOPS YOUR GLORIOUS SPIRIT-SOUL! WITH THESE SACRIFICE-SLAVES, WE GIVE YOU THE GIFT-POWER AND VESSEL-BODY TO POSSESS! FIND US, OH GREAT WINGED RAT, COME-TRAVEL TO AID YOUR CHILDREN-KIN!”

Prek made an upwards motion with his fingers as he spoke and six ceremonial knives slowly rose out of the pool, blades down. A blade went to himself, to Queen bez, and one to each of the four assisting priestesses.

Each of them grabbed the knife by the hilt, following Prek’s example and keeping the blades down against their chests with all of the women reciting the chant of the ritual outside of Prek’s own personalized call to the old-world god. Bez chanted too, the words coming unbidden as a flare of unnatural, foggy green light erupted over the pool with dark brown eyes that glared through the veil of space and time.

She shuddered under that gaze, even if she could not fully see the god’s body yet, but the presence was certainly that of the divine. The aura boomed and crashed down upon everyone present, and the roars for blood became weeping cries for salvation as the masses lifted their hands and began to worship the divine being.

But the ritual was not yet complete.

Bez just stood and watched amidst her chants, dagger against his bare chest, as a terrified, blood-covered Rashtalia shook uncontrollably under silent sobbing while she hovered in the air between the six dagger-holding participants.

“HEAR ME WINGED ONE!” Continued Prek enthusiastically, throwing his arms up towards the giant green cloud overhead where a figure of a huge, demonic rodent was taking a spiritual form ever so slowly. Bat-like wings spread out far, taloned claws ripped out of its hands, and the torso elongated to unusual levels as the deep brown eyes grew wider and wider.

The chanting of the clergy matched that of the five women in the pool of blood and soon the entirety of the blighted crowds, spectators of the ceremony, were doing the same and shouting out the chants in a synchronous, excited, thundering roar.

“Come speak-talk with your chosen ratkin and deliver us-we into your power-cold embrace! Let it be seen-known that I, Prek Zrof, bishop-kin and humble servant-worshiper to the old-world gods, am the one-kin the calls-summons you to me!” The bishop lifted his dagger high above his head and looked down at the stiff ratkin woman laying flat over the pool.

The others followed suit, including Queen Bez, closing in to form a close circle around Rashtalia who quivered wide-eyed but could not speak under their gaze.

“Take this soul-slave as a sacrifice in your great-wonderous name, and let-see the calling be deemed-judged worthy-able of your presence! TO ME, GREAT WINGED RAT, TO ME!” Prek paused only a moment to let the queen speak the final words.

“To me.” Repeated Queen Bez.

Prek let out a shrill high pitched wail, spit flying in all directions, and the six daggers swiftly descended to pierce Rashtalia’s flesh. Rashtalia gasped involuntarily, her fingers balled up into clenched fists and her lips curled in a silent scream. Bez felt the woman’s rib cage catch on the dagger before she withdrew it and stabbed her again. He and the five others savagely tore or stabbed into her thighs, abdomen, breasts and face with a flurry of dozens of brutal strokes. Prek was particularly boorish in his approach as he ripped into Rashtalia’s gut and pulled out her intestines in pieces and chunks.

Rashtalia’s mouth opened and closed and she coughed up blood just once before daggers pierced her lungs. Her right bicep was carved off the bone and then her left cheek. Then with her last dying, horrified and pain-ridden gasps she saw one of the priestesses cleave open her entire rib cage and pull out her heart with a wicked set of claws to hold it over their heads on display.

Then the brood-mother’s vision went black, and Rashtalia’s suffering finally ended.

Prek reached out at the moment of death amidst the cheers and chants of the demon hordes, plucking Rashtalia’s soul from her body as the limp corpse dropped unceremoniously - a destroyed bag of flesh, plunging into the blood pool. The tiny light pulsed in his hand and he lifted it up to the level of the sacrifice’s heart, holding it there.

Waiting.

Yet, the visage of the god above them did not move.

Prek soon whirled on the priestesses with a snarl. “THE SECOND AND THIRD MUST BE TAKEN!”

Crowds trampled over their own as the blighted ratkin escaped through tunnels at the top or sides of the place of worship, or died trying to escape.

And the snapping, gurgling sounds coming from the semi-solid spirit body of the ratkin god ended with a loud *CRACK* when one of Gluttony’s tendrils found the soul core he’d been searching for.

The minor god shuddered, its form going limp, until it ceased resisting and was dragged into Gluttony’s maw with a series of crunching sounds.

Gluttony shuddered yet again as his swarms and maws continued devouring the fleeing creatures before him, and he reveled in the sense of being alive once again.

[System Notice: Elysium’s contractual agreement has been met. As one of the seven Original Sins, you are being allowed another chance at life. Per the contract:

You will remain as a symbiotic organism to balance out your gluttonous tendenciesYou will have a nearly complete reset, losing over 99% of your skills, knowledge, and levelsYou will no longer be contained to the abyssThe ones banished with you during the War of Eternum will also be returned to life, with a similar reduction of skills, knowledge, and levels as those you experiencedLimiters on all other Original Sins, and the angelic Commandments, will be opened - allowing them to take the same deal you struckShould your symbiote ever die, you will be given the opportunity to start over again and choose a new one - but you will have another complete reset in doing soAll Shards of Gluttony will be returned to you now that your banishment is being lifted, but remnants of your old power will remain in the harbingers you created during your attempts to circumvent my rulesAny further attempts to circumvent my rules will result in another, permanent, banishment]

[Multiversal System Notice: To all creatures across Elysium, let it be known that the return of the Sins and Commandments is at hand. The first of the seven original sins, Gluttony, has been unleashed from the abyss. Other sins and commandments will be released from the abyss over the course of the next ten years as long as they are willing to abide by Elysium’s terms. Let the Eternal War between the hells and heavens begin again, as the origins of angels and demons clash in the cosmos - unshackled, and unrestrained, seeking to return to the power they once had.]

[Your level has been set to equal the symbiote partner you’ve bonded to, and you now share a body with the symbiote host Riven Thane. Experience needed to level up simultaneously with your host has doubled. Your host has gained the title: Incarnation of Gluttony, Original Sin. Your skills have been reset to 5: Hungering Clone Maws, Tendrils of Sin, Devouring Swarm, Devour Energy, and Banshee’s Wail. All of your previously banished servants will start at level 1.]

[Both you and your symbiote host have grown to level 200, and have been stopped from progressing further into the E-grade until you each reach enlightenment.]

[Your symbiote host has taken the Number 1 Apex Rank on the Power Ladder of Panu.]

Gluttony immediately felt the presence of The Scythe, then The Blood God, and soon a plethora of other gods that numbered in the dozens, then hundreds, then thousands as the eyes of the multiverse shifted their attention to his position.

What vultures they were, feeding off the accomplishments and worshiping of those lesser than they.

Gluttony was nothing like them, and this ‘great winged rat’ - though only a lesser god - would not be the last of his kind that Gluttony devoured.

Licking the last remnants of the ratkin god’s semi-solid spirit off his chest, Gluttony banished their presences with a flick of his wrist. He abruptly felt the change in his memories as Elysium forcibly tore knowledge of rituals, spells, miracles, and lore from his mind - causing gluttony’s face - or Riven’s face - to scrunch up in pain... but he let out an audible sigh of relief when it was done.

He was not angry.

He had been gone too long to be angry.

Gluttony could only be... excited, that he’d found someone as compatible as Riven to host him - and groaned with pleasure when shards of his soul began slamming into his soul aperture that was intertwined with Riven’s own.

He was going to be whole again, and it was only a matter of time before he and his symbiote grew into a power like he’d been once upon a time - long, long ago.

He could almost taste the fear of the angels even from here, in the dark depths of this backwater planet, and another low chuckle erupted from his lips as his massive soul encompassed Riven’s - beginning to feed Riven power with checks and balances on Elysium’s end coming into play.

One by one, portals began to form. Those who’d been the strongest of his worshippers, his strongest minions, his strongest followers - they’d been banished with him during the War of Eternum.

They’d all been reset to level 1, but levels certainly weren’t everything when each of them had hundreds of body enhancements, perks, inherent buffs, titles, extremely high affinities, and natural strengths based on their racial aspects.

Dozens, and then hundreds of demons that’d once been banished to the abyss began walking through black gates and into the realm of the living. They breathed their first breaths for eons, opening their eyes with hints of excitement and glee as they turned to face the one they called master.

“What are your orders, Gluttony?” a slender, multi-horned woman asked through a veil of shadows that encompassed her body - white eyes lighting up through the darkness as she bowed low - setting an example for all the others as they did the same. “We are willing and able to serve, and are excited to be of use once more. All hail the great maw.”

“ALL HAIL THE GREAT MAW!” The simultaneous chant from the hundreds of demons surrounding him called out in unison, from those big and small alike.

Gluttony was pleased. He had nowhere near the amount of legions he’d previously controlled when seeking conquest over entire galaxies, or when invading the heavens in the sixth era, but the ones in front of him represented some of the brightest talents he’d ever had the pleasure of lording over.

He stepped forward, and placed a hand on the shadowy woman’s horned head. “There is another by the name of Allie Thane... She has a quest gifted to her by the system, that guarantees Elysium’s protection from outside invaders. The catch is that we will need to conquer 80% of the planet in her name by the time the system integration finishes... and I will be preoccupied with another world quest within the hour.”

He summoned Allie’s quest status information, but how and why he knew what her quest was... was now unattainable to him. He’d received the information prior to having his mind stripped by Elysium, and was doubtful he’d be able to acquire personal quest information like this again anytime soon.

[New system quest dispensed: Conquer Panu. You have been publicly denounced by the Blood God as an Apostate, have angered almost every vampiric faction in the entire multiverse, and have already been marked for death on the public forums by numerous other factions across your planet. Having instilled a deepest fear in the minds of the living, and having given hope to the sentient undead of your world, you are destined to be hunted down - or alternatively you will rise from the ashes of war as a hero to your people. Will you and your kind be eradicated from Panu’s surface? Or will you conquer this planet and claim it for yourself? You have until the 5 year time limit of integration to take over at least 80% of this planet for yourself. If you accomplish this, you will gain Elysium’s direct and absolute protection from outside invaders for an additional 100 years, will gain a shroud that stops other outside forces from scrying your planet’s location for 500 years, and will allow you to reposition your newly conquered planet anywhere within the multiverse a single time at the end of integration.]

The woman kept her head bowed. “You wish for us to help her?”

“I do.” Gluttony stated simply, withdrawing his hand and allowing the woman’s bright white eyes to look up at him in admiration. “Find this Allie Thane, help her accomplish her goals, and wait for my return. Do not let her die, she is the sister of my symbiote host, and what pains him will also pain me. There is also a dungeon called Negrada that we will assist to establish a foothold back in the hells... Allie will have more information on the matter when you find her. Do this, and you will serve me well.”

The black tattoos covering his body flickered with black lightning for a moment, sparking twice more, then his three black eyes began to form crimson centers moments later. Gluttony sensed Riven’s presence begin to settle in from the slumber he’d been placed in, and soon each of his eyes had a black sclera background with glowing crimson pupils.

The maw along his chest began to fade, and messenger was extracted from his soul aperture - along with Jackal. A sigil of the great maw then appeared in a pentagram on his sternum, right underneath the pentagram sigils for Azmoth, Athela, and Fay.

He equipped both Messenger and Jackal next as Riven began to form consciousness, and then looked down at his bare legs with a frown. “One last thing before I go. Find me... some pants.”

“Some... pants, my lord?”

“... Yes. Some pants.”

[1 minute until World Quest 2 proceeds with the sub event: The Altars of Despair and Hope. Prepare yourself.]