Chapter 628: Resisting Fate (1/2)
A lance of golden flames tore through the air, and Ogras barely managed to avoid it before he unleashed a beam of destruction of his own. However, he didn’t aim at the bishop in the forefront, but rather at the group of underlings who worked on infusing the weird array at the edge of the mountain.
“Why fight? This is a world of sinners, they must be cleansed!” the bishop roared. “The Heavens themselves are on our side. Move away, stop resisting fate.”
“Well, you have me convinced,” Ogras said with a roll of his eyes.
He was swallowed by a wave of shadows, appearing in front of the leader as he unleashed a sharp stab aimed at his throat. Unfortunately, a swam of golden motes of light forced him away yet again. He had already been blasted by one of those things, and he was still missing a chunk of flesh on his side. Ogras tsked in annoyance as he glared at the cultist leader who looked all-too-similar to the bastard who took his arm.
This one was far stronger though, and it wasn’t only thanks to the fact that he was no longer restricted like they were during those beast waves. More importantly, he was backed up by far more professional elites compared to the strike squad who had appeared through the mini-incursion.
He could only flash away again, landing on a cliff made from Memorysteel that gave him vantage over the cultist army.
How did things get out of hand to this point? Did those two siblings know that this god-damned place was going to fall apart? There definitely was something suspicious going on, particularly with the girl. There was always that look in her eye when they talked. Like she was holding in something huge.
Was Zachary Atwood downplaying their role in regards to the Technocrat heathens? Did they have some other hidden motives in coming to this accursed place? It was no point worrying about that now. He would be able to ask that annoying guy himself as long as he and the ‘lady Marshall’ didn’t mess up too badly.
But these cultists weren’t any pushovers, and there were just too many of them.
Thankfully, he had already absorbed the [Corporeal Serum], and the effect was amazing. Not only did it provide as many attribute points as a few levels would, but it completely pushed his Race all the way to D-Grade.
Certainly, he had already made some impressive strides through the pills he embezzled at the Base Town along with high-quality herbal baths. But he had to give it to these Technocrat heretics; they knew how to brew a potion. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad becoming the son-in-law to a powerful Technocrat, enjoying these sorts of serums on the down-low while maintaining the façade of a good and proper orthodox cultivator.
Perhaps he should take a cue from Thea Marshall's tactics.
Of course, the real gain of the serum didn’t come from a small boost in attributes and an increase in his longevity, especially when it felt less and less likely he would get to enjoy his additional lifespan as the minutes passed. The real gain came from his body’s transformation. Who would have thought that his series of circumstances would result in him getting a Mutated Race?
He still felt some lingering shock when remembering the surprise waiting for him when he opened his status screen after having imbibed the serum.
[D] Planeswalker Demon
Planeswalker Demon, a unique race not recorded within the Azh’Kir’Khat Horde. An amalgamation of his beast companion and his own heritage. He had heard of things like this happening before. People encountering fortuitous, or more likely unlucky, encounters sometimes ended up changing their bodies to the point that they no longer could be considered the same race as they once were.
Truthfully, something like this generally ended in disaster. The races of the multiverse were the product of billions of years of natural selection, essentially perfect vessels for cultivating the Heavenly Dao. That was why most races looked so similar in their makeup; the cultivation pathways worked best when they looked a certain way.
So, to change this product of nature would usually result in a mutation that brought more problems than perks. After all, if it was a good thing it would be called something like Ascended Race or at least Augmented Race, not something so ominous as Mutated Race.
Yet, in his case, Ogras felt he came out ahead. Perhaps some of that aberration’s luck was finally rubbing off on him.
He looked at the vast field of shadows that harried the vanguard army, and it felt like he was looking at his own body. He had never felt so close to his Dao or the shadows he controlled. It was like the difference between a pyromancer and a fire elemental. Both were masters of flames, but only the elemental could claim the Dao of Fire as its birthright, controlling it with inborn ease. That was how he felt with the shadows right now.
Ogras had even sensed the location of a Hidden Node when he and his familiar were melded into one; roughly in the middle of his spine. Give it a decade or two and he was confident he’d be able to grind it open with his manual even if he didn’t find any amazing treasures to help him out. There still was the hidden threat of where the hell Asshole's consciousness had disappeared to, but that was a worry for later. For now, there were lizardmen to kill.
Thankfully he wasn’t the only one who had made some gains.
A flower of sword radiance and blood bloomed as Thea Marshall appeared seemingly out of nowhere among a group of cultists, killing two and maiming another before they had a chance to react. A massive pillar of fire erupted where she stood, but the human had already fled under the guise of Ogras’ shadows.
In another corner of the army, a throat was slit open as though by itself, yet no one noticed until the zealot toppled over. Only at that time did fiery shields erupt in the area.
Ogras whistled in surprise as he melded with the shadows. The girl had a knack for timing, no matter when talking about finding an opening to appear herself or silently assassinating unknowing warriors. She was like a gust of wind. By the time the gale had passed, you were already dead.
Of course, her antics were only made possible thanks to her upgraded weapon. Ogras couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy when he saw how huge an upgrade that hidden blade had undergone after incorporating that crystal. It somehow passed right through the defenses of these lunatics without alerting anyone, turning into a supreme assassin’s tool.
If only he had taken it for himself instead. An ability like this was exactly what he needed for his new spear. But that little lass had been smart, kissing that netherbeast before he set off. If he made his move now… it would spell trouble. He knew he wouldn’t get away with it considering his reputation. But there would be more opportunities in the future.
She was lacking in raw firepower even with her upgraded weapon though, even worse than himself, and she could only take out one or two soldiers after staking her life. There was clearly a limit on how often she could use that piercing skill of her blade as well, and she only dared to activate it against the normal soldiers.