Chapter 182: Chapter 173 – Forgotten Blood VII

Chapter 173 - Forgotten Blood VII

“I should’ve known the stupid box had something planned.”

Claire muttered under her breath as she rose from the island and flew above the clouds. There were dozens of land masses dotting the dungeon’s inner sea, but none stood out in a way that caught the eye. They failed to match the picturesque scene she had painted in her mind when she first considered her ascension.

“Sylvia.”

“Mhm?” The fox teleported out of the lyrkress’ arms and appeared in the space in front of her. Her eyes were sparkling and her tail was wagging up a storm. Her eyes were glowing the same way her father’s sometimes did. She knew that Claire was ready.

“Take us back up. To the clearing we found near the fort.”

“Sure thing. One dungeon break coming right up!”

An unfathomable amount of magic left the vixen’s body as she clapped her paws together. Slowly at first, and more rapidly after a brief ramp, the raw energy swirled, forming a portal tall enough for a dozen Claires and three times as wide. Its edges crackled, as if fighting against something, but the fox minded it not and stepped right through, her mount following soon after.

A smile crossed the lyrkress’ lips as she looked down at the body of water. Unlike the ocean, which was either murky or clear, the lake was reflective and provided the perfect place for her to examine any changes in her physique, even under cover of night. She had picked the location out far ahead of time, just a few days after they first left the library.

“Keep watch. I’ll try to be quick.”

“Don’t worry, Claire. I promise I’ll keep all the super scary evil goblins at bay,” said the fox, with a teasing smirk. The greenskins were the only locals. They scared everything but the occasional desperate wolf or deer away from their favourite watering hole.

“Thank you.”

The world warped as she went through the mental hoops required to initiate the process. She could feel her legs crumple as her mind was taken away, but the fox caught her before she hit the ground. The last thing she noticed, before the clouds took hold.

Flux was not the only one present. Builledracht was seated in the space behind her, his arms crossed and a wide, confident grin resting upon his face. She felt like she could sense another gaze, or perhaps another dozen, but none of the observers made themselves known. They hid within clouds, which for once, were completely devoid of cats.

“Good evening, Claire.”

“Good evening, Box.”

Flux was the only one she spoke to. The greeting she exchanged with Builledracht was a silent nod, and all the others were readily ignored. There was no point in hailing them if they refused to show their faces.

“Congratulations. You have, one inexplicable way or another, managed to surpass my expectations of mediocrity,” said Flux.

Claire narrowed her eyes, and after quickly running through the consequences in her head, called the goddess’ bluff. “Liar. The quest’s completion was perfectly timed.”

“That would be because I gave it to you after I adjusted my estimates. If you were any more intelligent, I’m sure you would have realised without the explicit explanation, but as much as it pains me to acknowledge, I remain aware that I do all of your thinking for you.” Flux paused, continuing only after the silence made it clear that Claire would not deign her with a response. “Now, as I’m sure that even you may be aware, it has come time for you to determine the course of your growth. But first, you must expend the ability points that you have needlessly hoarded.”

“Why?”

“I understand that your mental capacities are severely lacking, but I do not see why you fail to understand a concept so simple. Their use is the key to unlocking classes beyond your current means.”

“Fine.” Frowning, Claire quickly scanned her status and stared down the almost seven thousand points that she had yet to spend. She was fairly comfortable with her present distribution. Agility had naturally exceeded 2500, which she had ascertained to be another threshold, and strength had done the same. Dexterity was only a few hundred points off, but she incremented it only the slightest bit. Because wisdom was sitting at 3185, and using everything but a scant few points brought it to an even 10000. It was a lopsided investment, but not an irrational one, nor a choice she had made in particular haste.

Log Entry 6091
You have acquired the ability to sustain a vector without active input.

Her previous class evolutions had listed ability score values as a part of their requirements, and she suspected that raising one to what was most likely another threshold would allow for more powerful options than spreading them evenly. Skewing so heavily into the use of magic did not facilitate the close combat that she so often preferred, but she was unconcerned. Llystletein Essencethief provided 30 ability points a level, and Cloudburst Sorceress 36. She would soon be able to correct her distribution in short order, even without her new racial class considered.

Adding to her confidence was Flux’s response. The goddess had not stopped her, nor had her expression clouded in the least. She remained content, even as she used the ability points, a hundred at a time.

“Excellent. I see that you remain somewhat capable of completing menial tasks.” She spoke as soon as the final points were spent. The words were accompanied by a wave of the hand and the creation of a stage. Five different Claires appeared on top of it, each accompanied by a small box detailing the name of its race. 

“Only five?” Claire narrowed her eyes and quickly scanned her logs. “There were seventeen classes unlocked.”

“I have gone through the liberty of filtering anything that does not appeal to your pointless sense of vanity,” explained the goddess. “None of the others will provide the opportunity to maintain any semblance of your current appearance.”

“I still want to see them.”

“Foolish mortal.” Flux slowly shook her head and chuckled before snapping her fingers and beaming the projections directly into the lyrkress’ brain. “Be aware that it is impossible for any of these to shapeshift.”

A number of strange creatures passed through her mind, a white-blue eel, a two-hooved Headhydra, and a moose with a mane made of snakes. There was even a form with antlers, one that would turn her from a cow moose into a bull. And while the horns were certainly striking, she found herself completely disinterested. It was as the goddess said. None of the choices appealed to her aesthetic. They weren’t her, and though she was certainly at a crossroads, the lyrkress had no intention of reimagining her identity.

That was not to say that the forms standing upon the stage were much better. The only one that did not prompt her to raise a brow was on the far left. It looked almost exactly like her lyrkrian form. She would have immediately selected it, had its ears not been replaced. Growing instead from her head were a pair of fluffy wings. Even folded up, they reached all the way to her flippers, and when the clone unfurled them, it revealed that they spanned a width nearly ten times greater than her length. She did think them rather pretty, but they weren’t worth giving up her ears.

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With Skyfrost Lyrkress written out of the equation, she looked one space to the left, at the so-called Storm Wyrm. It was a snake-like creature with a towering serpentine body over twenty meters long, covered from head to toe in the most beautiful scales she had ever seen. They were bright and sparkly, layered perfectly, one on top of the other, with hints of other colours occasionally twinkling through. It began to transform after twirling its body around, shrinking into a less monstrous form. Its tail was far too long, and it possessed three distinct pairs of fins, but it continued to maintain an almost lamian silhouette with a disproportionate pair of ears.

Storm Wyrm
The Storm Wyrm is an ascended lyrkress stubborn enough to weather any blizzard, hurricane, or thunderstorm. Though dimwitted, the average Storm Wyrm is a highly skilled fighter. They are armed with exceptional ability scores and capable of devouring prey that others would think far beyond them, but their hunts are infrequent, for they are often too busy reflecting on days bygone. It is impossible for a Storm Wyrm to go a week without breaking into tears and lamenting the loss of its limbs.

Becoming a Storm Wyrm will reclassify you from humanoid to monster. This change will affect you mentally and cause you to grow more aggressive. Storm Wyrm’s maximum level is 750. This racial class’ evolutions are currently unknown. Storm Wyrm will gain additional bonuses when mastery of its racial traits is achieved.

This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:
- Slay 500 unique monsters.
- Endure the power of natural lightning.
- Spend 24 consecutive hours underwater.
- Descend from a line with reptilian ancestry.
- Acquire an ability score total in excess of 15000.
- Cover 10km of distance in a 24 hour period without the use of any wings or limbs.

Some of the race’s aspects she certainly found appealing, but the effect on her mind was a red flag at best. She was already plagued by enough; there was no reason to add any more to her plate, so she shook her head and moved on.

The next candidate was less than half the wyrm’s size. Standing at roughly five meters tall, it was a towering beast with equine and reptilian traits in equal proportions. Its feet were hooved, and its frame resembled that of a massive horse, but it was covered head to toe in armoured scales. From the top of its head sprung a massive lump of true ice, a sharpened horn as long as she was tall, pulsing with the reds indicative of a powerful arcane force.

Frostblight Qilin Foal
A foal is a foolish, tiny youngling with an infinite capacity for growth. Frostblight Qilin Foals have bones of true ice, skeletons that can only be broken by the mightiest of blows, but it is precisely this unnatural characteristic that causes them to suffer so greatly. Their health regeneration is greatly reduced, and even the lightest of wounds often take hours to heal. What they lack in durability, they make up for with feats of magic. A qilin’s horn is an unparalleled catalyst, a perfect conductor for the most complex of spells.

Becoming a Frostblight Qilin Foal will reclassify you from humanoid to beast. Frostblight Qilin Foal’s maximum level is 500. Upon reaching level 500, you will automatically ascend and become a Hoarfrost Qilin, the precise variant of which is determined by your actions and tendencies. Frostblight Qilin Foal will also gain additional bonuses upon physical maturity.

This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:
- Possess a wisdom score in excess of 5000.
- Slay a thrice ascended individual prior to racial level 250.
- Descend from a line of ancestry that features hooves, horns, and scales.

The massive equine began to change as she read through its description. It shrank down and turned humanoid, taking on a form that somewhat resembled Claire’s first. But while her outline was the same, and her ears still present, she found its horned profile completely unforgivable. Her cheek scales were missing. Her skin was still dotted with the occasional lamella, but the colour was off. They were too blue, not light enough for her to recognize as her own, so she dismissed it as she did the first two options and looked towards her second last.

Next in line was the largest of her choices. Standing several heads above the storm wyrm, it was a quadrupedal, winged lizard with jagged fangs and a piercing glare. Its legs were like Headhydra’s, longer than expected for its reptilian frame and packed to the brim with muscle. Adding to its total length was a girthy but flexible neck, covered entirely with scales thick enough to ward off even its own talon-like claws. Its head possessed a pair of horns that curved inwards like a ram’s, wrapped perfectly around its massive ears.

When it transformed, it did so by folding in its wings and shrouding itself in a massive burst of pure magic. A moment later, the raw mana vanished, leaving a humanoid with a pair of spiraling horns, two membraned wings, and a chain-link tail identical to Builledracht’s in all but the true ice of which it was composed. Even without opening the class’ details, she could tell that it was the race the curse god wished for her to select.

She would have considered it seriously even without his guidance. Its aesthetic was almost perfect, the only one to retain her ears, her cheek scales, and even her slit-eyes. But her spike was gone and her tail too distasteful. It looked more like an accessory than it did a part of her body.

Ice Dragon Fledgling
The dragon is a territorial species long lost to time, a rightful embodiment of power, pride, and vanity. Though capable of feats of strength far beyond the norm, they are typically reduced to degenerates that refuse to leave their homes, with many even wallowing in their own filth. Suffering from a chronic lack of motivation, these civilization-felling monsters have found it impossible to integrate, as those that make the attempt often find themselves enjoying neither education, employment, nor training.

Becoming an Ice Dragon Fledging will reclassify you from humanoid to force of nature. Ice Dragon Fledging’s maximum level is 500. Upon reaching level 500, you will automatically ascend and become an Ice Dragon, the precise variant of which is determined by your actions and tendencies. Additional bonuses will be granted every 50 levels. Even greater bonuses may be gained following acts of widespread destruction.

This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:
- Destroy a civilization.
- Descend from a line with reptilian ancestry.
- Acquire an ability score total in excess of 20000.
- Travel a minimum of 1000 kilometers by way of flight.
- Slay two thrice ascended individuals prior to your second ascension.

A small frown on her lips, Claire turned her head again and looked upon her final option. At a glance, it appeared to be the oddest of the bunch, a sphere of light, blinding raw magic. As she looked more carefully, however, she found that there was something inside, a creature resembling a young girl, perhaps of age seven or eight at most. It was floating in the air with its legs crossed, its eyes closed, and its silvery hair free from gravity’s grasp. It looked almost exactly as Claire did when she was younger, but there was something about it that was unfamiliar, off-putting, and even disturbing. Staring at it filled her with a sense of foreboding for reasons that she could not explain. So she immediately dismissed the idea of becoming a Fragment of the Abyss and turned her eyes back on the three choices that had best caught her interest.

None immediately jumped out to her the way Frostblight Lyrkress had when she first read through. She was almost tempted to stall, to set the ascension process aside and return to it at a later time. But her gut was telling her that backing out was unlikely to ever result in anything better.

“I don’t like these choices.” Crossing her arms, she looked away from the options and turned to the deities, the guides that were meant to promote her satisfaction. “How do I unlock different ones?”

Flux’s eyes lit up, with her lips curling into a crescent soon after. “Does your foolishness know no bounds, mortal? There is little for you to do but to abide by the system’s rules, so long as you work within its confines.” The response was far from positive, but her smile failed to fade.

It took the lyrkress a few moments of staring to finally realise that none of her options mentioned her divinity, be it explicitly or in passing. The overwhelming power was treated as something that had never existed, both in the options available, and within her status. The line was missing from her menus, scrubbed, even though she could still feel the divine force welling up from within.

It was no longer concentrated in her shard, but rather diffused through her body. And yet, it was somehow more potent. If what she could store in her shard was five, then she had at least a fifty, perhaps even more coursing through her veins. And it wasn’t just hers that she could control. There was plenty of it all around, spread throughout the environment. Excess raw power, shed by the gods.

Her body began to glow as she tried to bring it under her control. Focusing on the divine energy provided a sense of omnipotence and authority. She didn’t know how or why she knew the method of its operation, but she found herself controlling it as naturally as she breathed. Her hands reached towards the classes. Not the manifestations before her, but the data that lay within the bounds of her soul. She enveloped them in her divine power and attempted to seize their properties. But that was where she met an impasse.

She failed to establish her dominance.

They refused to listen to her. Her commands were being actively rejected. The classes wouldn’t come apart no matter how she tried to tear them. Because they were glowing with divine force, just like her. Only they were brighter, far more powerful than she could have imagined. Someone had placed a protective charm on them, ensuring their order, and her divinity amounted to nothing before their defense.

There were no cracks, no tiny holes for her power to seep through and exploit. Because what she needed wasn’t the golden light that flooded her surroundings, but Flux’s swirling, crimson darkness.

It took only the briefest of moments for her holy aura to corrupt. The raw chaos almost felt more natural than her usual divine spark, warmer, friendlier, less likely to tear her body to pieces and assail her with days of pain and suffering. And unlike the golden light, it was capable of serving her purpose.

The turbulent energy ripped her classes apart, disassembling them and breaking them into tiny pieces. Each trait she wanted, she grabbed and retained. The wyrm’s beautiful, serpentine frame, the qilin’s magical prowess, and the dragon’s overwhelming power. The fragment’s raw magic rushed towards her as well, and though she thought of rejecting it at first, she folded it into her core and accepted its monstrous might. All of them were taken, mushed as one, with the pieces she disliked cast aside and discarded. Somehow, one way or another, she put all of it together. The various pieces of the puzzle slotted in, almost naturally, with chaos filling the gaps. But a problem arose just as she neared completion. It was the system she had finally managed to rein. It began to fight back against the abnormality she had forced.

Taking only the positives created an imbalance. The world itself was complaining, rejecting the transaction and demanding a counterweight. There was no log, or any other interface, but she could tell that it would eat away at her if she refused to provide it with what it desired. So she paid it every class she had ever rejected. When that wasn’t enough, she sacrificed the digging, sewing, and sneaking skills. But they were only a drop in the bucket.

She thought for certain that it would be satisfied with all 250 of Alfred’s levels, but it rejected them outright, just as it did the catgirl-related abilities she attempted to purge.

With no other options remaining, she gave in and relinquished her most valuable acquisition. The tertiary class slot she had hoped to retain was cast into the pot, shoved down the system’s throat and used as fodder. Finally fed enough, the system gave in, yielding to the abomination it had been so unwilling to create.

A smile crept across Claire’s face. Turning to the gods that were her witnesses, she performed a light curtsy and left the divine realm. There was no need for any more words. Because her business was concluded. Her ascension was already complete.

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