Chapter 111: Puzzle’s last piece

Chapter 111: Puzzle’s last piece

Sofias goal in seeking power had always been very straightforward. Skeletal ambitions aside, she wanted to be free.

Free, and strong enough to venture into Sovuln. To seek Sarias remains, on a dreaded floating island, in a probably long-destroyed slaver camp.

That was it.

She had no plans to slay Gods, make friends with the continents powerhouses, deal with alien invasions, or become a member of some unfathomable entity the system itself failed to understand.

All she wanted was freedom and closure.

Where had it all gone wrong?

She summoned the necromancy grimoire from her ring.

The old and crumbling book, missing most pages and now partially burned, was where this whole thing had started.

[Identify]

[ERROR]

[THIS ITEM HAS BEEN LOCKED BY ITS CREATOR AND CAN NOT BE IDENTIFIED]

What Sofia sighed in incomprehension.

Following that, Sofia heard the *Ding* announcing a new message again. Multiple times. But nothing showed up.

A blank system window opened and closed. Followed by hundreds more.This chapter was first shared on the Ñøv€lß1n platform.

Her status opened next, jumbled and broken, letters drifting out of the words, lines tilting, font changing. Sofia was powerless to do anything but watch in horror as the system was having a seizure. She had no control over any of it anymore. Soon, the troubles reached outside of the window, becoming a loud ringing in her ears, a piercing, incapacitating headache. And as abruptly as it had started, it all stopped.

A single, small window opened, and all it contained was: [Mark of the Deep].

One by one, new letters appeared between the word deep and the last bracket.

[Mark of the Deep. In an effort of self-preservation, restricted information will be divulged : Item creator : SCRIPTURE. Date of creation : 12.02.3207. Please proceed to immediate destruction using angelic authority!]

After Sofia read the last word, the system window warped then disappeared, accompanied by an even worse headache that did not relent for a long while, even after Pareth force-fed Sofia a Healing potion she had arduously managed to get out of her storage ring.

Sweating buckets, on all fours on the jungle ground, among the weeds and the flying insects, Sofia did her best to calm down her breath as the pain finally receded. She couldnt access the system anymore, not a single window, not a single skill, nothing. She only felt her soul link to Pareth.

The Scribe. That was the scribe warning me!

Are you okay, Mr. Scribe?!

*Ding*

That was it.

Bravo, bravo

The dead body of the Templar stood in front of Sofia, giving slow claps, Orator again... The Lord had a peculiar, smooth, and suave way of speaking that showed no matter which mouth he used.

What a remarkable speech! Incredible! A true testament to your brilliance. Poor boorish Inquisitor does not deserve you. You must be the first human to be graced by my presence three times without fading, this alone speaks volumes, the Orator declared in the Templars voice, gesticulating grandly to emphasize his words. "Found the answers by yourself, have you not? Is it not much more thrilling?

The templars body fell limply to the ground. Next, it was Sofias mouth which opened by itself, once again.

Now, pardon the intrusion, let me help your little friend, they are essential to make proper use of my gift, for now. It cannot be allowed to hold you back.

Sofia could only watch as her hand raised to her temples and her finger flicked her head multiple times. She felt her consciousness waver and come back after every tap.

[Scribe Only mode is now operational again!]

The Lords voice next came from a bird Sofia couldnt see, high up in the jungle canopy, each of his words echoed through the mountain.

Much, much better. Oh, I understand this must be a lot for your weak human mind. No matter, I have much to do, work well toward your freedom, youngling. I shall not show up again.

Silence reclaimed the thick jungle for a few seconds. Just as Sofia was about to move on, the Templars mouth opened again, still on the ground this time, not bothering to stand up.

Oh! One last detail, resent not Sorrow, you called and she answered. Such a cute kid well deserves her own bit of freedom. Farewell, First Saint of the Deep. Forget not your own road, what the Lords giveth they shant take away.

...

Mr. Scribe, are you really repaired?

Her status page opened by itself then disappeared.

Good. Thank you so much, Orator.

First Saint of the Deep Better than Saintess of Scripture honestly. Though thats still not what I had been aiming for. But I do have their blessing instead of Scriptures even if to the System Im still Scriptures saint.

Will I lose my VIP saint privileges if Scripture dies? How does that work? Will I stop getting the first half of the skills that come from him? I can only deal with it when it comes. I favor planning but adapting is also a way to do things

She stored the dead Templar again. Pareth had been motionless this whole time.

Grab the book and go in the ring.

Sofias first task now was to do what the Scribe had judged worthy of its sacrifice to tell her. Dispose of the grimoire.

There was nothing in there she didnt already know anyway, she looked at the book much less fondly than she had used to now, knowing its origin, but it didnt detract her from her skeletal ambitions. Her fascination with necromancy and skeletons may have partly sprouted from the grimoires presence but ultimately it was her choice to like it. And she couldnt dream of a better traveling companion than Pareth.

Flying over the jungle, Sofia sought the empty crater of an inactive volcano.

She tossed the book into the craters center and raised both hands as she hovered high over it. There you go, Scripture. You were the one to give me the chance to make these dumb skills. Now watch as they come to strip you of everything you have like you tried to rob me of my freedom and my life.

Once more, two long javelins of blue plasma formed in her hands.