Chapter 1793

Chapter 1793

Don Beigon rubbed his eyes and looked out the window. He sat at the center of a vast web of all the favors owed to him, feeling the tremors running along those connections. The Nexus faced a storm and he suspected that the worst of it hadn’t even arrived.

Outside the window, the immaculate gardens of the Beigon Estate remained a riotous explosion of warm life. To look at them was to see only them. This was the sanctuary that he had built to protect his family from trials like this. But looking at the peaceful grounds now, all he felt was a vague contempt.

Taking down the Nexus Ways in order to prevent the Pinnacle Seekers from being able to escape pursuit? Please. You sent a token hunting team after them and turned to your own business, the Don sneered. Birds fluttered in the tree branches of the orchard, singing cheery songs in the process. I wonder how many Speculum or individuals almost at the Speculum tier are currently undergoing image refinement... and I wonder how many will attempt to reach the Pinnacle during the week that communications are down.

Now that I think about it, was the destruction of the observational Aether constructs planned? Or is this just them capitalizing on the opportunity? The Don’s fingers tapped a rhythm against the bamboo armrest of his wheelchair. His attention strayed back to the buzzing web of dues owed to him. He had some favors owed to him by some of these Speculum figures, old favors that they might even have forgotten about, but it seemed like a waste to use those to figure out how organized this destabilization process was.

Yet thinking about tabs made Don turn his head away from the window and spit onto the ground next to him. He could feel the constant, aggravating presence of the debt he now owed to Randidly Ghosthound, doubly hooked within his image based on his attempt to dodge the responsibility completely.

The Don released a subtle emotional ripple down the connection to the Ghosthound, keeping it simple, resembling something accidental. He waited several seconds and then sighed when there was no response. That bastard learns quickly. Well, that’s fine. Hopefully, his tenaciousness will rub off on Detta...

His expression crumpled and he felt a deep ache in his heart. Then he slapped his cheeks and straightened. He couldn’t afford to back off now. Not that he was so close to possessing the power to finally save his family.

Detta, I know you don’t understand right now. But this is all for your benefit. If I did not take such harsh actions, we would be doomed. The Don tightened his hands into fists. Then he forced his joints to loosen and flicked his wrist. Suddenly the Skull of Truth sat in his hand, her long white hair cascading down over his thighs. He adjusted the head and looked at the closed eyes. Already, small phantasmal shapes flickered in the corners of his vision. Holding the holy object even more effective than he had anticipated.

At the size and near full-comprehension of the Don’s image, improving was exceedingly difficult. He had stretched himself toward wholeness; it was almost too late for any adjustments. Still, he smiled as he gazed down at the Skull of Truth that was not a skull. The visualizations steadily grew stronger. Those shapes didn’t exactly inspire change, but they did provide a little bit of the nudge, focusing his efforts.

Losing the Citizenship Coin Fabricator to the Nether King was dangerous, but if he could improve his image on his own-

“Fellador?” Don Beigon called. The next moment, his cowled subordinate crouched behind him, hand across his chest. He spoke without wheeling himself around, still staring down at the precious item. “I’ll be spending the next few days in isolation. Allow no one to disturb me during that time. Even if Claudette is in danger, you will need to handle the situation yourself.”

“As you will,” Fellador replied.

When his subordinate had gone, Don Beigon tightened his grip on the Skull of Truth. Gradually, the thin eyelids began to release a sweet radiance, lit from within by a burning fire.

*****

Randidly allowed his three images to spread outward across his body and condense into his image physicalizations. Sharp claws formed on his hands and natural armor stretched encased his joints. His already powerful form became even more streamlined and overwhelming as his lower tail armored itself and golden veins flared to life through his limbs. A shadowy orb of darkness replaced his left eye and his hair lightened to emerald.

“Edge of Desolation!” Claudette shouted. Her blade cut downward, all the force of her image collapsing on top of Randidly.

He raised Acri and met the attack directly. Not enough time had passed for him to gather very much natural energy, so he brought his image flaring up and triplicate. The Yyrwood Flesh of Yggdrasil. Cosmic Necessity. The Vindictive Chimera Smites.

Congratulations! Your Skill the Vindictive Chimera Smites (M) has grown to Level 340!

BOOOOM!

This time, Randidly was smashed backward before the whole of her image. The portion of Sulfur covering his torso cracked and some blood spurted out of the wound to be dragged down by the current of significance in the shaft. Groaning, he righted himself and spun sideways to avoid a second slash from Clarent.

Claudette dragged her growing blizzard of ruin and cold down after Randidly, but he kicked off a thin plane of gravity he generated and popped out of its grasp. She growled and rumbled after him, but Randidly rapidly gathered his momentum, skipping along the surface forces that Claudette radiated and dipping the tip of Acri into the blizzard to sample its power.

Congratulations! Your Skill Cutting Tide of Amenonuhoko (T) has grown to Level 462!

Soon a fair portion of Claudette’s own power that she released became natural energy that Randidly carved apart and channeled through his body, as he utilized his Skill and some of the principles he learned from watching the Nether King. Unfortunately, her image was also rapidly swelling, filling almost a quarter of the Shaft, even at this depth. It didn’t seem like she would allow him to gather enough power to match her image.

Randidly spun and dove through the frost-edged outer winds that Claudette generated and blazed directly toward his sparring partner.

Her image settled across him gradually, but the soul-crushing desolation and hatred that she created rapidly accumulated on his skin. His open wound was frosted shut. He could feel her image discharge sapping at his emotional potency, even as he pierced through the edges, middle area, and finally reached the core portion of this world-destroying storm.

Claudette waited for him there, floating calmly amongst winds that could tear an average person in half. Thick, black veins had crawled out from her gauntlet of hatred, creeping up her arm. She tightened her grip on Clarent and looked at Randidly with baleful eyes.

Facing me spells your doom, those eyes seemed to say.

Randidly bared his teeth. I get that all the time.

Clarent cut downward as Acri slid forward bearing a tight spiral of natural energy.

BOOOOOOOOOOM!