Chapter 2092

Chapter 2092

The ice-cold sheets of rain had driven everyone else from the streets, so Randidly and Jotem moved quickly without anyone glancing around and asking too many questions about the presence of a Nether King. The rain pattered around him, but otherwise, the environment was oddly peaceful. Even with his robe sticking to his skin, Randidly felt wonderful; the tingling rain helped clear his mind from all the interactions with Swacc.

Weirdly, Jotem seemed quite sensitive to water, quickly beginning to shiver and sneeze every few seconds as though the chill pierced through his buoyant body. Randidly glanced at him but said nothing. Would be quite ironic if I saved him only for him to catch some sickness later and die. Or even... perhaps he infected himself with the poison image...

On his arm, the Nether Ritual tugged ineffectually, confused by the developments of the last few minutes. But as Randidly had noticed earlier, it was a rather lazy construction. The individual who had given it to Drane probably wanted to skimp pretty badly after interactions with Swacc. Its edges began to unravel as Randidly followed Drane’s careful wordings, even if he didn’t satisfy the spirit of the request.

They made it back to the alley and found Bogart and Demetrius still waiting for them. The grandson towered over the small Nether Herald, using his large and muscular body to block the rain. Both were pretty much soaked through. Both gave Jotem strange looks but fell into line without much comment.

For everyone involved, it had been a strange day.

At the merchant’s direction, they soon made it to one of Malloon’s gates. It also functioned as a massive engine, hunched against the edge of the city inside the barrier, creating the protective force to repel both enemies and the worst of the storms. The gates remained wide open even in the inclement weather, although Jotem had to walk up and speak to a guard to get the group waved through. Perhaps due to their bedraggled look, the muscular ratman didn’t ask too many questions about the color of their robes.

They passed through a narrow tunnel to get to a dark gold barrier. Randidly looked around in fascination, sensing the rather rough but extremely mechanical aspects of these barriers. But all too soon they reached the edge and Jotem turned around. “Ware! The fickle winds dance outside with malicious intent. Adjusting to such worthy adversaries takes poise and inner strength.”

The Nether Herald nodded with a cheery smile while his grandson flexed and growled. But Randidly put his hand on Jotem’s shoulder to stop him. “Let me go first and make a few preparations.”

Jotem seemed confused, but Randidly just patted the half Origin-Beast’s still shivering arm. The barrier parted begrudgingly as he walked through like he pushed his way through hanging chains. But honestly, it ended up being a good thing.

Because it prepared him for the moment he passed through the barrier and the storm watching outside started pelting him with fistfuls of mud. Spluttering, Randidly wiped the dripping sediment from his face. The world outside of Malloon looked inhospitable and squat, the only plants able to survive were crouching little bushes that still swayed and distorted within the hands of the wild wind. Precipitation came horizontally as much as it fell on top of him. Dust constantly scratched at his exposed feet and ankles, making him feel like he was in a sandstorm while also being drenched.

The raucous noise was a constant grind against the senses as well. Even more than the howl of the wind, it was the constant grind of the barrier's engine that made the surrounding air rumble. As Randidly got a better sense of his bearings, he could see a short distance away were massive exhaust fans from the engine, blowing out acrid air and image discharge from the inefficient Engraving of the era.

Randidly wiped a little more mud from his face. The engines and the massive discharge definitely don’t help the local environment. But why is the climate here so harsh. It’s almost like there is-

He looked up and stilled in genuine apprehension. Because there, hanging far above beyond even his Grim Intuition could capture with any detail, was a hanging sphere of massive significance. Pine, the memory version which hadn’t yet collapsed in on itself to become that suffocated, inverted utopia, hovered in the sky and tormented the people below with massive shifts in significance. Huge hurricanes raged in the upper environment due to Pine’s presence; what they felt down here was just the dregs.

Randidly tore his gaze away because he could feel something opening up in the sky from his awareness. The horrifying modern Pine reached into the memory and began to widen his hungry maw, attempting to devour the entire memory and everything within through Randidly. Luckily, he noticed quickly and kept his gaze fixated very purposefully away. Gradually, the connection faded. The memory Pine remained untainted by the present. In the chaotic seething, others probably wouldn’t even notice the shift.

Focusing on his own position, Randidly began using his small bits of Aether and Nether to adjust the surroundings. He wove patterns of force to counteract the storm. The small notes he could mobilize didn’t resist directly but guided it into recursive flows around his body. Soon an orb of rotating sediment blunted the worst of the wind and rain. By the time Jotem poked his head out through the barrier, it was positively mild around him.

He would have died out here. Did die here, in the real happening of these events. Jotem would have been killed by some other Nether King or one of Drane’s lackeys. And Demetrius and Bogart would both be stuck within Swacc’s Dungeon. Randidly’s hands clenched. Aether and Nether raced each other through his body, making his muscles hum. This is a group that never would have met, who suffered under Swacc in the real occurrence.

But now... I fucking swear I’ll teach Drane Swacc the lesson he never learned in real life. Randidly’s expression hardened. Even if its just in this memory... The Swacc Family will not prosper.

“My liege,” Demetrius said gently, tugging at Randidly’s elbow. “His condition is worrisome. We cannot simply let him lay here.”

Randidly blinked away and felt a flush of shame; he let his anger distract him from what was most important. Behind them, Jotem cleared his throat. “Ah, I suppose it cannot be helped. With the blessings heaped upon me by my lineage, allow me to restore- what?”

Jotem gasped as Randidly reached forward and unleashed his Fourth Authority. The memory began to shake dangerously, but Animation Nova bloomed out of his palm in a silver sigh. Pure vital energy radiated out from his fingers, sinking into Armel’s body. The man sucked in a breath. His ruined eyelids fluttered, revealing the horrific wounds within.

Once his condition stabilized, Randidly reached out and pressed a hand to his forehead. Yggdrasil moved as gently as it could, creating energy roots to flow through his body. Bit by bit, earning a shudder through the memory each time, he wore down the image scars left to keep the body from healing.

Breathing out through his nose, Randidly pulled back. The memory was dangerously unstable right now, but the work was done. Armel was no longer walking toward death’s door. He would soon heal.

“You are a great healer,” Demetrius whispered. “Quite impressive.”

Randidly nodded, barely able to understand the words. The shaking in the memory wasn’t deteriorating it, but it once more made it more difficult to understand the surroundings. His Nether Core revved, but it wasn’t enough. His shield blocking the wind began to collapse. Rain and mud fell harder, soaking them all.

He picked up Armel’s body and looked at Jotem. “Lead on.”

“Actually...” Jotem blinked and peered beyond Randidly, further down the side path. “I do believe these walls were carved by my hands! How strange. To think a body would be coincidentally here upon my doorstep. Follow me, before the storm sends it wrath to harry us-”

From Armel’s position, it took them only two minutes to reach Jotem’s farm.

Randidly could see it, as he stepped out of the trench and saw a low building squatting between two rocks, the Grey Creature still rabidly furious inside of him. Having gotten Randidly’s word he would handle the issue of Jotem, Drane Swacc had walked back to Coppun and ordered him to dump the wounded Armel in this very stretch of trench. Because other than Jotem, who would come here? The body wouldn’t be discovered for a long, long time.

Long enough for the mud to claim it. The servant Armel will have been forgotten. Drane Swacc’s crimes would be buried by the constant storms.

Randidly bared his teeth at Armel’s unconscious form. He would not have shown such an expression if he were conscious; likely it would have scared the man to death. I wonder what you know that had him so decisively seek to get rid of you?