Devourer Of Destiny - Chapter 146
Ebon Dirge gnawed on some concerns as he made his way back to the apartment. Yes, the clownish would-be “King of Blood” was a presumptuous buffoon worthy of contempt, but he thought that his own reaction to the fellow was rather… outsized. For a man who worked to maintain discipline and control, this was troubling.
Was it a side effect of the homunculus body? The body lacked the biological functions and mortal concerns of possessing a living person, and so far nothing had inclined him to believe that there were any exceptions to that.
Was this part of the problem with his soul? Amelia had warned him that his reckless refinement would have consequences. Dirge had been restrained from using his spiritual sense too much and too far by her, but he had been lifting thoughts in proximity lately. Were things that bad for him?
There, of course, was another explanation for his outburst too: the self-control he thought he had was only a veneer, a shell over his primal nature. Dirge had imposed control on himself in tempering his mentality following the disaster at the Northern Light Divine Imperial Palace. He thought he had used his time in the Lighteater Abyssal Crevice well in imposing some self-restraint, in becoming colder and more methodical.
Perhaps Dirge had been wrong about how far he had come with that. Believing he had changed the habits of twenty thousand years in a mere two hundred years might have been an optimistic assessment. It was easy enough to become more stoic and disciplined in a vacuum, and what more vacuum was there than solitary confinement for a couple of centuries? The old impulses were still there, he knew, but he had thought they were better buried.
Laying back in bed in the darkness, Dirge could only shake his head as he considered what could be done. He had sworn to not repeat his old mistakes, to temper his recklessness and contain his impulsiveness. It was aggravating to think that an issue he thought was addressed was anything but, and this was something he had to work his way through sooner rather than later. If he waited too long, things might spin out of control entirely.
Once he was finished with this task, after all, Dirge had a trip to the Underworld to make. Then everything would change once again.
Dirge put those concerns on the back burner and turned his attention to other things he had been neglecting as of late. The encounter with the up-jumped blood practitioner in the arena had reminded him he needed to check in on other matters.
With an intention, Dirge activated one of the two seals in his consciousness. It was time to see what that blood-thirsty brute had been up to.
——–
In the middle of the wilderness, a dark figure sat on a boulder, staring at a round object in his hand.
Saytel’s fingers ran over the smooth surface of the skull as he sat and contemplated. “Look, Mother,” he whispered, “it’s just us here.”
Mother didn’t answer. She never did. She was just a skull, after all.
Tel loathed the sentimentality of the gesture. The Fourth Prince had been an unruly beast only restrained by an ambitious mother who saw the throne and nothing else in her son. Along with the rest of the royal children he had just been a piece in a game with two players that were entirely uninterested in what their pawns wanted.
Saytel and Tel, they both existed right now. One was the before, one was the after, and somehow they coexisted. It was a bizarre relationship, one where the boundaries were ever-shifting, but for now the two sides of the one man functioned together.
Saytel was sentimental and passionate, cruel and murderous. He longed for the days of leisure and happiness even as he merrily wanted to crush the weak and fight the strong.
Tel was methodical, calculating. He learned, he understood, he grew. The days of being a viper in a prince’s skin, living with all of the other vipers in tense anticipation of that day when they would all strike out at each other, were past. A greater force had swept him up and claimed him, had toppled the shadowy players who had used him before, had given him more of a purpose than to just wait for his demise as an unwanted monster.
Tel felt an oppressive force from above, as though the thought of it had conjured it from the ether to come and commune with him.
The Darkness.
Tel returned the skull to his storage pouch and quickly dismounted the boulder and kneeled in the grass. “Master.”
“How goes the mission?” The Darkness asked, a voice that came from all directions and none.
“The situation has changed a great deal, Master. The Blood Devil Paradise is already no more,” Tel reported.
“No more? Tell me. Tell me everything.”
Tel took a deep breath before he began the recital. The Darkness was oppressive, powerful, and inscrutable, but it had also always been fair to him. Nevertheless, there was a sliver of trepidation at the thought that the current situation in this land was a failure on his part, somehow, and that he would be punished for it.
“The one you told me to watch out for, Blue, has already returned, Master. He arrived and has dismantled the Blood Devil Paradise, albeit peacefully. He has made no move to fill the vacuum himself, but there is talk of a council being formed under his eye.”
“You haven’t been able to feel him out yet, then?” The Darkness asked.
Tel shook his head. “There’s someone else with him, Master. Someone powerful. I couldn’t sense his cultivation, but he made the hairs on my arms prickle when I saw him… I…”
“Show me,” The Darkness said, and with its invisible tendrils it reached out and plucked the image of that man from his mind.
The strange man wearing a wooden mask with long green hair had left quite the impression on Tel, and so his image of the fellow was quite complete, he thought. The power that radiated from the fellow was unmistakable, although he couldn’t connect it a level of cultivation that he knew; he just knew that it was greater than him.
Much like The Darkness itself was.
The Darkness chuckled as it grasped that image. “Oh dear, that is quite the development,” it said with a tinge of amusement to its tone. “You did well, avoiding a clash with that man. He would have crushed you. Since there is no hope for you to take over command of the Blood Devil Paradise, and since you have confirmed the status of Blue, there is nothing else for you to handle there.”
Tel expelled the breath he had been unknowingly holding. “Thank you, Master. Where do I go next?”
“Hmmmm…” The Darkness went silent for a moment, perhaps in contemplation. “I would like for you to head to the south now. There is a place called Ascendance City…”
The Darkness relayed its orders, along with a visualization of the route to where Tel needed to go. It was quite a journey, but for a Palace Establishment expert like him it wouldn’t take too awfully long to complete the trek.
“Understand?” The Darkness confirmed once it had finished its recitation and the relay of the information.
Tel nodded. “I understand and obey, Master.”
“Excellent. Since you have done well, allow me to reward you appropriately, then.”
Tel suddenly felt as though his skull was about to split. The Darkness’ gifts were powerful but painful, but he endured. It was for his own good.
“Another portion of the Blood Devouring Universe, just for you,” The Darkness announced. “There should be some ripe targets along your route to hone your understanding on. Study well, and when you near your destination we shall be in touch.”
“Yes, Master,” Tel replied, gasping for breath.
And then The Darkness was gone.
Tel collapsed on the ground for a moment, but there was a smile on his lips. Before, he had been a pawn that could and would be discarded; now, he was a useful servant who was rewarded for his service.
He couldn’t keep Saytel at bay eternally, but with the permission he had been given, his inner beast would have plenty of opportunities to indulge itself along the route south, and that was all that was needed for now.
——–
Dirge’s eyes snapped open as he retracted his attention from that seal in his consciousness. The former Fourth Prince was a decidedly odd individual, and yet he found the fellow’s development an intriguing parallel to the situation he was finding himself in at the moment.
The developments in the grasslands had swiftly outstripped Dirge’s expectations, but there was little to be upset about. The current situation had only confirmed Dirge’s theories on the distaff destiny that had spun off from River, where Blue had already seemingly fulfilled a portion of that: the Primeval Forest was under his sway.
It had been an amusing surprise to see that the forest’s chosen avatar was the corpse of River, but it made sense: Dirge had killed him by sprouting that seed in his heart. He didn’t know how Blue had managed to subdue the fellow, or even how much of River’s memory the new hybrid being possessed, but those were things to be considered later; if he was meant to collide once again with the swordsman due to their ties of destiny, there was no point in wrestling with the process.
It was a shame that his initial intention for sending Saytel to the grasslands had already been quashed, though. The man was a natural candidate to take over and expand the Blood Devil Paradise and create an actual power out of it. It was probably for the best that it was already dispersed before that project could begin since it appeared that Blue was intended to return and clean up the messes in the region anyway.
Now that he had checked in on his brutish servitor, the concern that the “King of Blood” had ignited in him dissipated. His attention could turn back to the immediate affairs he had to handle.
As the night turned to morning, Dirge noted that he only had this new day left in which to master his smithing techniques, since the next would be the day of the duel. He wouldn’t lose in any circumstance, but there was a certain flair he wished to achieve while winning that required some practice and contemplation.
Turning adversity into an advertisement, that was his aim.