A Sinner’s Chance - Chapter 160

As Damian led us to the resting site of Ashara, I couldn’t help but wish to wake up, something I had long since realized was not possible. No matter how much I wished for my initial misconception of this being a dream to be real, now more than ever, it wasn’t possible to change reality so easily.

I had been ignoring the signs, trying to enjoy ignorant bliss, but it was now time to face the facts. IF I truly was sleeping, I should be able to enter Seshat’s Library, yet I was unable to do so. On top of that, and probably the biggest factor was that for as long as I could remember, I had never actually had a dream, at least one that wasn’t from the memories of one of my other lives.

My steps felt heavy as we left the interior of the manor and passed through the garden, the green haired girl nowhere to be seen. Damian led us towards the rear, stepping through a set of dense foliage as if it didn’t exist. Hesitantly the rest of us followed, unsure of what was going on, and as we passed through the foliage that was simply an illusion, a large stone mausoleum stood before us.

“This is the Mausoleum of the Dark Lords, every Dark Lord and their spouse, or lovers, are interred here, their bodies bound to fight for this city should it ever come under significant threat.” He said with a reverent tone. “I too shall be interred here, though probably far sooner than I hope. I’m not fit to be the Dark Lord, at least, not with my current abilities.”

In silence he pushed into the entrance, a massive room that was practically empty, save for an arch on the other side, where if one were to look carefully, it led into a catacomb, many recesses along the walls filled with humanoid figures. In the center of the room was a simple stone altar, atop of which rested Ashara’s body. It was a somewhat awkward fit as the entirety of her body was quite large, but there wasn’t much one could do about it.

Damian and Irellia took up position beside the altar, Irellia near Ashara’s head, and Damian on her left side. Once in place they motioned for me and Arya to come and stand on the right, something I only managed thanks to Arya dragging me, my eyes otherwise locked onto the corpse of the woman I spent my first five years with, and who had given up everything so that I could live.

As I stood near, one of my hands grasping Arya’s tightly, the other reached out and rested on her now cold and stiff body. It felt as if pushing her would cause her to shatter, she was almost statuesque, silent, unmoving, and beautiful as a work of art. I didn’t realize but at some point Damian had begun a quiet prayer-like chant in a language I’d never heard. What I could only assume were the Final Rites he mentioned earlier.

However, about mid-way through Arya let go of my hand and raised it up. “Wait a moment.” she said abruptly, interrupting Damian and startling the others who had been engrossed in the process. “I don’t want to give anyone false hope, but isn’t it possible she’s molting? This is extremely similar to what Vell goes through when she does, and the last time it happened, it took a month for her to come out of it.”

All of the eyes in the room focused on Arya, causing her to shuffle about embarrassedly. Her words were a small beacon of hope. I didn’t know what to do with this information as a feeling of excitement began burning in my chest, only to be dampened when Damian shook his head. “She’s been an adult for a long time, her days of molting are long over, only if there was something that triggered a sufficiently powerful change could cause her to molt again.”

Once again the little fire of hope I had burned brighter. “That isn’t something impossible.” I said, looking at Arya and Steria briefly. “I have a Skill called Corruption, which lets me convert a person into a more suitable form. Arya is a Ljosalfar, an Elf blessed and beloved by holy light. Steria’s a Werecat, despite having been a Khetoran a few months ago, and my… other mother became a Dhampir, something I know she wasn’t born as.”

Both Irellia and Damian looked at me incredulously. Neither of them talked for a moment, before Irellia suddenly began to speak. “That is a very powerful Skill, there has to be some kind of condition, or drawback that affects it right?”

I nodded at her assumption. “I’m not actually sure what the conditions for triggering it are. But I know that at the least, they have to be familiar to me and perhaps…” I trailed off, not exactly sure I wanted to think of the implication of the other common theme between the three who’d become Retainers.

I mean, it was one thing to have sex with what was essentially a step-mother, but my actual flesh and blood mother was a different story. However, I was unable to deny that I despite my reluctance, I wasn’t actually opposed. I knew I was unusually emotionally attached to her as well, but I had never actually quantified the emotion. I’d just always felt a deep longing, and the more I thought about it the more I realized how similar it was to my longing to see Marian.

While the others discussed the possibility of Ashara simply being dormant as she prepared to molt, I was only half listening, the other half of me rationalizing the feeling that many would call unnatural. While Ashara was my mother, technically she hadn’t actually given birth to me, it had been the Womb Slime used, and on top of that, I had been more Phoenix that Arachne even when I was only five, it was easily believable that I was genetically diverse enough from her that only our physical appearance were similar, and that I could otherwise have been from an entirely different clan.

I was almost certain that Steria and Arya had guessed my thoughts as nearly at the same time I heard both of them ask if I would conquer her heart as I’d already done to them and Marian. Seducing one’s mother and wife away from their husband once, wasn’t enough, I was going to do it a second time? I was somewhat ashamed, before I shook my head and recovered myself. It would be best to do whatever I wanted, no matter the consequences. Ilya had told me that living as befits a being of Yin was the best way to grow strong and maintain my resolve.

As I did so, the others finished their discussion and decided that we’d give it some time before doing the rites. Both Irellia and I could see the Threads, and even though it was extremely difficult to find, Ashara’s thread was still there, though rather than a thick Thread, it was like a single lonely one that you easily miss, even if it blew past your face.

With that decided, there were a few things that I wanted to do since we were going to be in the city a bit longer. The first and foremost was to ‘curse’ the land once again. While the city itself wasn’t that important to me, it would provide an extremely good hideout if I needed one, far from the prying eyes of the Races, in the middle of an extremely dangerous forest, something that would become much less useful if it turned into a regular forest.

For this I built a large black obelisk that was placed at the very center of the Forest of Darkness. It was essentially a massively upscaled enchantment of my Yin-Yang Ouroboros. It consumed Yang type mana, like fire and life, and converted them to their counterpart, water and death and injected it into the ground, creating essentially a synthetic set of ley-lines that only spread in the Forest of Darkness. The best part of this device was that I could control it, which essentially meant the entirety of the Forest of Darkness was under my control. Though I’d need to make auxiliary items if I actually wanted to do anything besides influence where mana was converted. But that was enough for now as I could use that function to make a path out or into the forest that would naturally repel the Yin aligned monsters, which was essentially everything in the forest.

The second thing I did was ask Irellia to start teaching me Itoryu. I’d become fond of the naginata, and it felt wasteful to have two, but only use one. Though if Ashara did wake up, I was planning on returning them, and making my own set that were custom built for me just as these had been for Ashara.

To my surprise Itoryu wasn’t actually that difficult to learn, but that was likely due to the fact that I had Nuhrot’s Limbs, which let me deftly manipulate thread without needing to animate it via Unattributed Magic. Irellia had been stunned when she saw my deft movements with the two naginatas despite only having been learning it for a few hours, and when I explained it she only became more incredulous, however she had a delighted look as she praised me.

Seeing as she thought I would be able to proficiently fight with Itoryu, she instead began teaching me how to animate thread for other tasks, such as the impressive telekinesis-like things we’d seen when we first went to the temple she had once been sealed in. I had of course asked her about that, but she wasn’t quite sure of why the seal broke, but she imagined it was because I had killed the being that was maintaining it in the first place.

The third task on my agenda saw me going back to the underground ritual room, only this time, rather than getting into any risky situations, I was performing a Séance, and maybe if I was lucky, binding a soul into my service. Laying a fleshy fragment of Neyla that had slightly decayed into the center of the circle, I began to read from the black book, the words seeming to echo around the room becoming darker and more distorted the closer to the bottom I got.

The last three words were just below a yell, and the echoes were now like nails across a chalkboard, or dry ice on metal, only deeper and more sinister. My mana began to get eaten up rapidly, far faster than anything I’d experienced before, and I could feel a resistance, like a thick flexible wall that prevented me from reaching Neyla’s soul. I focused intently, trying to force past the barrier, my vision darkening, before I saw a white expanse, and a blonde haired woman, dressed in golden plate armor, bright white and stainless feathers appearing from her back. The women seemed to sense my gaze as her eyes locked on to me, and suddenly beside her I saw the translucent figure of Neyla and I could feel the spell straining as it tried to move forth and grab her to no avail.

The golden armored woman smiled. “I’m not too surprised to see you Velen, or do you have another name now? Such a shame that someone who helped you in good faith had to be captured and interrogated. Ah, don’t misunderstand, I didn’t order it, but my brother Raphael, has always been hot-headed and desperate for recognition.”

I could only look at the woman, who I didn’t recognize, yet knew me as Velen. Who looked like a holy angel, yet gave off such a sinister and prideful aura. However, I was unable to rebuke the woman, my voice not reaching this place, solely my ability to see and hear was here.

I didn’t know what I looked like in her eyes, but she smirked smugly as I failed to respond. “How far her kin have fallen, I’m amazed that the She-Demon hasn’t awoken to punish you for your pathetic display. Remember my face if you can, I am the 1st Archangel Gabriel, and it will be by my hand that you are brought to ruin.” She began to laugh, and though the tone was rather melodic, it felt more appropriate to call it the laugh of a demon.

My vision was suddenly thrust back into my body as I opened my eyes, sweat pouring down my body, cracks in the stone, as some plants had broken through and some of the stone now looked metallic, but I was too tired to figure anything out, let alone investigate, so I froze the chunk of flesh and put it in a small satchel. Unsettled by the strange occurrence today I collapsed into bed while releasing a sigh as my mind drifted into nothingness.