Chapter 1522: Chapter 1522
"Trump cards? Hold on. They are based on Rayn?" Skullius fumbled over his theories. He thought he'd figured everything out, but apparently not. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭·𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦·𝘯𝘦𝘵
"So that's what it is," said Skullius, looking relieved. "That's why Quintess resorted to creating humans, Sif and Giants born with stronger souls and not stronger bodies, right? That minimised the cost."
Skullius frowned and counted the Spirit Wardens he could sense. He sensed Bek, the Ode of the First Horn and six others. Where was the ninth?
The Deitess gave Skullius a knowing look. The Hybrid Warmoth was surprised that she figured this out on her own. That detail about the Empyrean Bosom and the Warmoth's Treasury was known only to him and the Stark-Soul Order.
The Empyrean Bosom imbibed the properties of the world the user was on.
This was why Skullius and his subordinates were able to complete Tasks, Trials, and level up even while away from Aigas during the intensive training he sentenced them all to in the Timemould Mirror Box.
Where Revia was concerned, when Red Rage had taken her to the Bosom, Quintess' automatic protection likely failed to recognise that she was being taken away from Aigas because of the superiority of the mechanisms of the Bosom.
On top of that, Red Rage had used the ivory key to transport her (the most direct way of reaching the Bosom) rather than the means Skullius was attempting on the other Wardens.
Of course, Skullius could simply use this more direct way to teleport the Wardens to safety, but…
"The Wardens can't become vessels, right? So how exactly are they Quintess' trump cards?" he asked Suzamete, frowning. "Don't tell me they are… expenditure."
The Deitess gave him a look that gave a dreadful confirmation.
This subject made him groan. With what he was planning to do later on, he had no right to judge Quintess. He did wonder if he could negotiate for the Ode of the First Horn though. That man was promised to him ever since he lost the battle in Opungale; it was validated by KUTHMUK.
All the talk of sacrifices made Skullius feel like he was shedding his true nature for something sinister. He was hardly batting an eye to it as an option and on some level, that scared him. But well, Elita had said she'd help with his burdens. He could cry on her shoulder later, perhaps.
"How's Yuyui and Grim?" he suddenly asked the Deitess. She gave a sniffy laugh and hugged her legs like a child.
For Grim, it was anything but surprising to hear that he was itching for a fight, but Yuyui? Skullius remembered how he'd almost cast her out of his Faction. Even she had agreed that she wasn't suitable for this life of battles, stress and death. But now she was just as proficient in combat as the others. Well, at least in her own way, and with her own style.
She was bold and fierce behind that silly mask she usually wore.
Suzamete said and she rose to her feet.
"What are you talking about?" Skullius asked suspiciously.
The Deitess answered with action, rather than words. She pointed to the sky, and some leagues away, a crack appeared in space, cutting through clumps of cloud slogging by.
"They have?" Skullius raised a brow.
She smiled brightly, her eyes on the crack in space.
And Skullius did see a moment later.
A familiar Herald, absolutely gargantuan in size, spilled from the crack which widened a hundredfold to accommodate him.
His scales were old, thick and green, and the power he exuded threatened to crush everything below, mixing itself in with horrifying gusts of wind.
It was Jiggorrhax, the Abiding Madness, but of course, he wasn't alone.
On his wide head, between the great crown of horns that seemed to celebrate his age and strength, Grim could be seen, but right then, he was less of an Unlimited Star, and more of a King of Unforgiving Impermanence.
His torso was humanoid, but thrice as large as a normal man's, decked with a black cuirass that spotted glowing stars. His arms were thick, hairy and powerful, outstretched before him. A look of focus was on his handsome face. Wild shadows were cast over it every now and then because of his long white hair, which took on the shapes of varying creatures, snapping at the air. His crimson eyes stared ahead, looking at something most couldn't see, even after transcending mortality.
His lower half which was that of a shaggy black canine beast was throbbing with a deathly air. Grim was after all, Death's apprentice.
Large green threads were suddenly expelled from Grim's palms, each growing by kilometers every second.
Jiggorrhax immediately snapped, catching the ends of the threads with his teeth. With one phenomenal grunt, he pushed off the air and stormed towards the drapes of time at light speed.
The work to repair Aigas had begun.