Misadventures Incorporated (Monster Girl LitRPG)

Chapter 310: Chapter 294 – The Tempest’s Wake


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Chapter 294 - The Tempest’s Wake

Claire did not sit idly as the city was destroyed. Stumbling forward, she ripped open a massive portal in the sky and dragged the fortress beyond.

It was a painful, difficult affair. The levels she earned did nothing to ease her torment. Her body had been ruined, mangled so horribly by the overwhelming force that the system could not repair her.

She fell to her hands and knees, gasping for air, as Sylvia ran around the city. The fox was gathering souls, taking the fallen into her tail for temporary storage. Every fourth individual she gathered was offered to her creator—a price they had agreed upon when he provided her with a dose of ether. It was hardly a fair exchange. It had taken the celestial only a thousand souls to craft the steroid, and he had walked out of the deal with nearly two hundred times the number.

The golden drink was a means for a celestial to fight a god, a tool that a divine being could leverage to push himself beyond his limits—certainly not anything a mortal should be randomly ingesting. The sheer amount of magic and divinity it bestowed had completely and utterly fried her circuits.

She felt like her consciousness would slip away, but a glance at Pollux’s face kept her wide awake. His horror and confusion fed the lyrkress’ flame and filled her heart with vigour anew. She took half a step towards him, ready to gloat her victory and deepen his despair, but the scenery warped before she could. The barren wasteland became a sea of clouds, with three divine figures scattered amongst them.

Flux, the lady in the centre, stepped forward, her face somehow looking equal parts annoyed and amused.

“Good evening, Claire.”

“Good evening, Box.”

The greeting was accompanied by a tilt of the head.

“I took the liberty of initiating your ascension before you fell apart and died,” explained Flux, with a smile.

“Alfred said it wouldn’t kill me.”

“You cannot fool me, Claire.” Sighing, the goddess snapped her fingers and filled the night with half a million twinkling stars. “You had intended on ingesting them and absorbing what you could to fuel your ascension.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Flux pinched the bridge of her nose. “There is reckless, and then there is insane. I don’t suppose you need me to inform you that this harebrained scheme of yours falls into the latter bucket?”

“I need something strong,” said the mortal, as she averted her eyes, “so I can kill him myself.”

“I am well aware. But before we discuss that matter, we must first concern ourselves with your other classes.” Flux waved her arms and produced a series of panels—entries ripped out of the mess that was the halfbreed’s log.

Log Entry 720194
Your secondary class, Cloudburst Sorceress, has failed to mutate. (Error Code: 28430 Forbidden Class Requested.)

Log Entry 727189
Your class module has been rebooted with administrator privileges.

Log Entry 749587
Your secondary class, Cloudburst Sorceress, has mutated into the titular class, Tempest Witch.

Tempest Witch’s level has been reset to 1.

Log Entry 749594
The system-wide multiplicity of the Tempest Witch class (2) exceeds the maximum cardinality (1) allotted for titular classes. Your secondary class authorization has been suspended. (Error Code: 10938157 Maximum Cardinality Exceeded.)

Claire furrowed her brow and looked at Flux, who only gestured for her to keep reading. The other goddess in the endless space, however, interjected before she could.

“Tempest witch is my class, young one,” she said. “Flitzegarde restricted its access after looking into its capabilities.” Griselda waited briefly, continuing only after the halfbreed tilted her head. “She didn’t like the idea of people throwing large objects at Mara, but you went ahead and did it anyway.” The space rock’s face was twisted into a smug, triumphant grin. “Serves her right for spoiling my fun.”

Builledracht, who was seated in an invisible chair as usual, raised his wine glass to his lips. Its contents were neither red nor white, but cosmic, swirling with the same medley of colours as Flux’s eyes and hair. “It’s truly a mystery how your worshippers might have mistaken you as anything but chaotic.”

“It’s like they think that we can’t have habits without being stuck-up prudes.”

“That is my thought on the matter exactly, see Dorr, for example…”

The gods continued to chat, but Claire ignored their banter.

Log Entry 769872
Your secondary class, Tempest Witch, has mutated into the titular class, Witch of the Seventh Tempest.

You have acquired the Heavenly Annihilation skill.

Log Entry 769873
Your class module has encountered an error. Titular classes cannot be preceded by non-titular classes. (Error Code: 912 Titular Class Validation Failed.)

Log Entry 769874
Your secondary class, Witch of the Seventh Tempest, has become your primary class. Llystletein Essencethief has been cannibalised and removed. Skill Assimilation Rate: 58%

Log Entry 769875
Your primary class, Witch of the Seventh Tempest, has consumed your secondary class slot. You may no longer select a secondary class.

Your primary class has been enhanced. Functionality has been expanded, and your ability score growth has increased.

Claire immediately opened up her status, but Flux raised a hand and stopped her, once again gesturing towards the filtered logs presented. Though reluctant, the halfbreed pursed her lips and followed the finger as directed.

Log Entry 772109
Systemic threat detected. You have been marked for elimination.

Log Entry 798371
An administrator has taken action and suppressed your primary class’ functionality. Your ability to conduct planetary bombardments has been heavily restricted.

Log Entry 798372
Systemic threat neutralised. You are no longer marked for elimination.

“You will need approval from a minimum of ten gods to perform an orbital strike on Mara. There must be at least three representatives from either faction, and you can only be approved for one attack at a time.” Flux began to speak as soon as the final entry crossed the longmoose’s eyes. “Celestials may cast their ballots as well, though their voices are only a third the value, and they may constitute no more than half the effective votes.”

“So the class is useless?”

“Not quite.”

The goddess crafted a box with the snap of her fingers and provided the accompanying description.

Witch of the Seventh Tempest
A titular class granted to one who has destabilized the planet’s orbit with an attack from outside of its inhabitable range. The ability to perform such a massacre can only be marked as a trait of the clinically insane. Please see a death-agnostic therapist at your earliest convenience.

This class does not have a maximum level. Its potential for evolution cannot be determined at this time.

Claire blinked a few times, looking between the box and the person behind it. “It doesn’t look very useful. The description barely says anything.”

Her obstinance only prompted the goddess to chuckle. “You will understand in time. Now, let us return to the other order of business.” The space between them suddenly widened, with a trio of true-formed Claires each appearing on a massive platform. “There were over a hundred choices available. I have narrowed your options down to the most powerful.”

The qiligon on the left was the first to warp. It grew larger, thicker, longer, expanding in every dimension into an otherwise identical creature almost ten times its size.

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Awakened Frosty Longmoose
The adult version of the aberration created during your previous ascension. Still just as deranged and fueled by madness, this force of nature is an embodiment of destruction, effectively a dragon in the form of a wyrm. For reasons beyond the understanding of any rational being, this bizarre race bears the potential for infinite physical growth. A meter is added for every three days lived; it is only a matter of time before the awakened longmoose wraps its head around the world and finds its tail at the end of its journey.

Awakened Frosty Longmoose’s maximum level is 1000. This racial class’ evolutions are currently unknown. All ability scores are increased by a multiplicative 10% for every kilometer grown.

This class was unlocked by fulfilling the following requirements:
- Ascend as a Frosty Longmoose
- Demonstrate the extent of your wrath
- Cast a spell with a total mana cost in excess of one billion

Next to change was the moose in the middle. For the most part, it shrank. Its body shape was condensed, squished into an almost lizardman-like frame that stood at a measly seven meters tall. It had large, reptilian wings, massive claws, and a pair of horns that extended from the back of its head. But most striking of all were its eyes. Strewn all over her body, her pupils were no longer purely serpentine. The slits were still there, serving as a foundational layer, but each glowing red eye was marked with a complicated magic circle, large enough to leak into its otherwise pitch-black sclera.

The organs were not entirely biological. They were much closer in nature to Vella’s—relics grown from a base of flesh and blood.

Apocalypse Dragon
The Apocalypse Dragon is a veritable incarnation of mass destruction. She is powered primarily by a bottomless void, the negative energy of which is expressed through a lack of heat. Her chilling aura is capable of effortlessly and unconsciously draining the life force from her surroundings and repurposing it for her own use. This passive ability commands the weak to fall. Good riddance. May they be drowned in the darkness of the abyss.

Apocalypse Dragon’s maximum level is 1000. This racial class’ evolutions are currently unknown. Ability points awarded from active combat are greatly improved.

This class was unlocked through Builledracht’s divine intervention. Congratulations. You have impressed even the gods with the sheer extent of your bloodlust and spite.

The man in question smiled when she looked his way, lightly raising his cup before returning to his conversation with the moon.

Returning the greeting, Claire directed her own eyes toward her final choice. It was by far the most peculiar, not a horned deer, as she had half expected from Flux, but an eight-legged centaur whose only serpentine traits were its cheeks and eyes. The design was almost too simplistic. Even with its winged hooves, she almost felt like it was more suitable for her first ascension.

Reading its description, however, revealed a completely different story.

Welkin Wanderer
The Welkin Wanderer is the courier of death. Powered by an infinite source of energy, she is capable of running across the sky and ferrying her sinister message through to the end of time. For her magical heart, she pays only the price of compulsion. The wanderer must drift from place to place, sometimes venturing beyond the stars and other times to the depths of the sea. Whatever the case, she must continue to roam and to bring death to those whose paths she crosses.

Welkin Wanderer’s maximum level is 1000. This racial class’ evolutions are currently unknown. Bonus ability points are awarded for every thousand kilometers travelled.

This class was unlocked by losing your way. May you find peace again along the path you forge.

Claire immediately began to pick the properties she wanted. She started with her existing form as a base and selected a few key traits from the others—namely the wanderer’s engine and the dragon’s void.

There was a price for only picking the best parts, but she paid for it by dousing the stars and feeding their souls to the fire. But just as she was about to finalize her choice, the goddess twisted her lips into a grin.

“I have produced a more efficient version of the class that you are on the verge of forging.”

She turned her panel towards the mortal.

“I believe you would only stand to gain from accepting.”

Claire carefully glanced between her creation and the goddess’ before begrudgingly relinquishing a nod. Flux’s version was everything she had wanted but better. The only cost was to the system’s restorative functions—levels would no longer fix her entirely, offering only a minor boost to her healing instead.

Hardly a notable cost at all.

Log Entry 848372
Your ascension is complete. You have become a Caldriess.

“I named it for you ahead of time, so that you would not make the same mistake again.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Perhaps,” said Flux with a smile. “Perhaps not.”

Your base health has increased from 5000 to 100000.

Your base mana has increased from 15000 to 500000.

Your ability scores have been increased:
- Strength increased by 50000
- Vitality increased by 10000
- Wisdom increased by 25000

“Just as how the lyrkress is a nymph that strums a harp and sings, as she treads her waterlogged garden, the caldriess is a feral beast with the wrath of a fiery mountain. She erupts when disturbed, and brings a chaotic tide capable of swallowing a civilization in a single breath.”

The upper limit of your divinity has increased from 2715 to 1000000000. This change has led to an adjustment to its present value.

The efficiency of your ability scores has been drastically increased.

Corpus Imperium has evolved into Cataclysm Convergence.

Claire could feel her body pulse as each line echoed through her head. Her damaged circuits were rebuilt and empowered. Her scorched flesh was healed, but the burning pain remained.

Eyes of the Deep has been assimilated into Cataclysm Convergence. This assimilation has earned you a proficiency bonus.

Your lifespan is no longer limited, but your outward appearance will be affected by your mental state.

You have unlocked a quaternary class slot.

Log Entry 848373
Your primary class, Witch of the Seventh Tempest, has consumed your quaternary class slot. You may no longer select a quaternary class.

Your primary class has been enhanced. Functionality has been expanded, and your ability score growth has increased.

The first shape she took, as her spirit returned to the mortal realm, was her ascended point of origin—her new true form. It was smaller, sleeker, and more equine than her previous incarnation. She stood at only three meters tall and ten meters long, with her tail making up most of her length. Her face was so thin that it felt more like a deer’s than a dragon’s, and it was marked with an icy, uncentered horn.

Her true form’s wings were gone, with the fins attached to her ankles growing to make up the difference. Perhaps thanks to the ether’s still-lasting influence, her magic circuits were somewhat abnormal. The rigid lines could be seen running through her flesh, breaking up her scales with their ephemeral glow. Much like her mystic eyes and her frozen spike, their circuits’ colour was constantly in flux, changing as the various sources of power ran rampant through her body. It took a moment to get it all under control, but she soon dismissed the black from her sclera and the red from her irises. The gold was thrown out as well, leaving only the usual icy blue.

Becoming a humanoid proved more difficult than expected. Her first attempt yielded a largely draconic result. The size was right, but her hands were claws and her feet were hooves. Her ankles continued to sport their wings, the size of which had remained unchanged following her transformation.

She focused on her limbs when she next made the attempt, but again, the result was unexpected. It was her head that became inhuman, retaining its qilin-like form. Her next few tries were similar, failing in some way or other, but she eventually managed to twist her body until it was more or less correct. The horn growing from her head was disproportionately large, her chest was more prominent, and her arms ended in talons, covered in scales from the elbows down.

She flexed the accompanying claws until she was sure they were as dexterous as her fingers. They were more difficult to control. There was one less digit, but each had an extra set of joints that felt equally foreign and familiar. They facilitated her movements, allowing her to form a fist far tougher than one of flesh alone.

Finally satisfied with the result, Claire nodded to herself and turned to her prey, her lips a predatory, hungering grin.

The second act was over, but the curtains had yet to fall.

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