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🕑 Added 2025-12-06 00:00:02 +0000 UTC– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 219, Season of the Setting Moon, Day 94 –
– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 219, Season of the Setting Moon, Day 94 –
“Terry, come on.” Jorg sighed. “If you’re like this, then I’m not going back.”
“If you don’t go back, then Ma will drag you back herself.” Terry pointed out. “By now, they know that you’re injured.”
“Well, good, then she can drag you back as well,” retorted Jorg.
“I won’t go back, Jorg,” stressed Terry. “I’m moving forward.”
“Then I’ll come with you,” said Jorg.
“You need healing,” insisted Terry.
“I’m okay,” said Jorg. “I can smell-see stuff. I don’t know what to call it, but I’m not useless, so I’ll—”
“No.” Terry couldn’t take it anymore and jumped up from his cross-legged position. He sounded tired. “Remember when you explained to me that your path is not like Lori’s or mine? That your limit is time and that you can go anywhere? Well, that’s not entirely true, is it? You aimed to become a crafter and now you’re blind!” He took a deep breath. “Your runic references and study guides aren’t helping when you can’t see them! And don’t give me that scent and void sight stuff. I’ve asked Bugsby and that’s not enough for reading books!”
Jorg grimaced. “Can’t you at least wait?”
Terry closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He knew his brother and friends were just concerned. He was glad to be around such companions, but they didn’t understand.
Traces of the Veilbinder.
Remnants of the False Gods.
The strange sensation from his soul.
The lack of a clear path forward while the monster was still roaming his realm.
“No, I can’t,” said Terry in a weary whisper. “And I also don’t know if I want to.” He looked at his friends. “Think about what happened in this realm. We’ve arrived here and walked right into a teleportation trap. I got myself separated, and…”
“Which turned out to be a good thing.” Tiana pointed out. “While we were getting a biased story from the locals, you retained an outside view on things.”
“I also got myself into trouble, and that actually wasn’t my point,” said Terry. “My burst was near-instinctual. I can’t promise that it won’t happen again, and perhaps next time, I won’t be so lucky that everything works out. More importantly, this expedition is done. The biggest factor for everything working out was that we had the assistance of Mia and Yorgos, but do you believe they’ll follow me into the next gate?”
“The researchers definitely won’t,” said Vess. “They’re all setting up camp or moving back. The curse is cleansed. Their job is done, and only some more research remains.”
“I get it.” Tiana nodded. “The same will go for Khaled.”
“Verecund might be interested,” said Jorg. “If the gate you’re looking for is related to dungeon activity, then—” He paused when he saw his brother’s expression shift. “Terry?”
Damn honest face.
“We might have already found it,” admitted Terry.
“What?!” Patricia narrowed her eyes. She had been part of the scouting teams, and this was news to her.
“At least I suspect so.” Terry shook his head. “It’s hard to explain, but one of the suspected locations for dormant dungeon activity felt different and…” He scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know. I went back and I think the feeling is getting stronger. I suspect it’s because the Wrath is receding. Even stranger is that the shroomans’ souls appear to react there, too. I thought that, maybe, given the shroomans are somehow linked to the realm itself, all of these things are connected. I can’t be certain yet, but yes, we might have already found the gate forward.”
“And you kept that a secret?” asked Tiana testily.
“It was just a theory in my head,” said Terry sincerely.
“Which you could have shared,” stressed Jorg.
“I am,” said Terry. “I would have.”
“Would you have done so before Vess and I left?” asked Jorg with narrowed eyes.
“Probably not,” said Terry firmly. “Not unless I was certain.”
“Great,” grumbled Jorg, clearly disappointed with his brother.
“You need healing, and I honestly think I should go alone,” said Terry. “Look what happened with the Moon. They went after Vess, because of me.”
“And without us, you would have had a lot more problems to deal with, too,” stressed Patricia.
“I know that, too, but the expedition is done,” said Terry. “In contrast to the curse, there is no urgency to explore further. Imagine how this cursed realm would have played out, if it had just been the six of us.”
Rafael interjected with a loud yawn. “Probably would have settled this a lot more quickly without all these eggheads getting in the way.”
Patricia rolled her eyes. “Without these ‘eggheads’, we would have all caught the curse early on and died a miserable death.” Her gaze wandered. “Well, maybe Tiana would have been fine.”
“You could recruit from the locals to form a new expedition,” suggested Tiana. “I’m sure there would be many who’d volunteer to help the Cleanser of Wrath.”
“Ugh…” Terry’s eye twitched when hearing the title the locals were using for him. “Please don’t. And can you honestly imagine taking someone like Penelope to another realm? I might as well declare war from the beginning. Besides, their mana is recovering and their mana foundations are improving at a rapid rate. I wouldn’t bet on them remaining as cooperative as they are now. Once they feel their abilities soaring beyond what this realm has experienced in centuries, who knows what might happen?”
“Is that why you want us to deliver a message to not share modern spellwork with the locals before we have a supervisory force present?” asked Vess.
“I thought you were just being petty,” added Jorg with a shrug.
“Petty? With the Moon? Absolutely,” exclaimed Terry. “I have less reservations about the deserters from the Sun, but my point remains. I don’t trust them. If it was up to me, I’d teach the Sun some improved spell structures so that their diminished numbers can still offer a counter-force to whatever the Moon and the giants are planning, but someone else can decide that. I just wouldn’t trust my life to them.”
“That’s fine, we’ll just do it old school,” said Rafael and grinned a toothy grin. “You, me, our disciple, and that’s enough. A field trip should prove instructive to our disciple.”
Terry rubbed his eyes. “I’m not taking Deekin on a ‘field trip’. He should grow up and mature first. He also has to consolidate his mana foundation in peace. Our training was quite rushed. Perhaps most importantly, if he is supposed to have any sway over the giant tribes, he has to grow up among them. Otherwise, he wouldn’t understand them well enough, and he would always remain an outsider.”
Terry couldn’t help but think of his attempts to change Deekin’s views. There were hard limits to how far he could shift the views imparted by giant culture.
“Besides, I don’t know what the next connected realm is going to be like,” continued Terry. “Deekin is not exactly easy to hide.”
“That’s okay,” said Rafael. “Just you and me, then. Just like old times. We’re going to teach the next realm a lesson it will never forget.”
Terry looked at his leopard-spotted friend. Even if he managed to dissuade Tiana and Patricia from insisting on following him, he had the feeling Rafael would prove an entirely different challenge. With the others, he could appeal to reason. A quality to which his martialist friend appeared entirely immune.
“Look, the thing is, I’m not even sure forming a team is even an option,” said Terry pensively. “If I’m right, then that would mean the gate is only slowly unsealing. A response to the receding curse, to the recovering realm, and, perhaps, to local dungeon activity picking up again. It could be that it takes forever to be usable. It could be that it will get usable for just me alone and then take forever to allow any permanent opening. I don’t know. I just don’t know yet, so…”
Terry sharply exhaled a breath. He had hoped he could keep this conversation short. Patricia had a point. He was eager to dig into some of the local magic knowledge and theories to see if there’s anything that might become another tool for him.
However, Terry also knew that, of all possible conversations, this one was destined to drag on until they had all run out of breath.
***
“Are you sure?” asked Verecund.
Terry couldn’t explain it, but he still nodded.
“I believe I can feel something, too,” said Jorg. He turned to the beetlefolk flying next to him.
[The veil is weakened here. But controlled,] signed Bugsby.
“Crap.” Jorg grumbled and crossed his arms.
“I’m still amazed you can understand him.” Patricia couldn’t help but stare at the bandage over Jorg’s eyes. “I don’t think you reacted to his finger runes right now, right? So… Is it really by scent?”
“No word to Lori, or I won’t hear the end of it,” warned Jorg.
Terry snickered. He knew exactly what Jorg was thinking about. Terry himself tried hard to hold back all the comments about how Sir Farts-a-Lot had always been communicating by scent. He just got better at it.
“I’m not getting much…” Verecund looked at a strange device intended to measure various aspects of dungeon activity.
Terry noticed something in his soulsight. He turned to the source. “Shroomling?”
The mushroom folk was rubbing her butt against the ground.
Terry turned his head, because many other shroomans were running towards them.
“What’s going on?” asked Tiana.
“These things are so weird,” muttered Rafael. “Look at the tiny legs while they’re bobbing over the area.”
“They’re folks, Rafael,” groaned Terry. “Behave yourself.”
“What?” Rafael furrowed his brow. “They are weird. Folks can be weird.”
“Look who’s talking.” Tiana rolled her eyes.
“Hey, I’m not the one possessed by lightning,” retorted Rafael.
“So, what you’re saying is, you don’t even have an excuse,” interjected Vess.
“No, I…” Rafael’s mouth hung agape. “Yes. No. What?”
Patricia chuckled. “I think you broke him.”
“Bah!” Rafael scoffed. “As if anyone could break me!”
“Terry?” Tiana narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on?”
“I…” Terry had been staring absentmindedly while the shroomans were doing… something. Something that changed the ambient mana and intensified the sensation he picked up from his soul. “I’m not sure, but…”
It’s like they’re calling for something.
A pulse of white mana rushed up from deep below the earth.
“Who dares?!” Rafael flinched and reflexively extended his claws while switching to a combat stance.
Loud beeping sounds reverberated from Verecund’s measuring device. “Wow. I’ve never seen something like this before.”
Terry was stunned. The pulse jolted his memory right back to his first dungeon challenge. To the moment they had defeated the inscribed earth giant in Alrik’s secret dungeon.
In the Valkyrie’s prison dungeon. In the dungeon with the juggernaut champion afterwards.
In the folded space during the fight against Vicious.
Dungeon.
To Terry’s senses, it had felt as if both the shroomans and the dungeon had signaled something.
Approval?
“Look at the ground.” Terry muttered in a daze. He was the first to notice, but the lingering mana was intense enough to be visible to everyone’s mana sight.
“Okay? Some hooligan painted some shit with mana, what’s the deal?” Rafael crossed his arms.
“Isn’t that…?” Tiana’s eyes opened wide.
“What? What do you sense?” asked Jorg. “Hello? Person with impaired mana sight here, who wants to stay in the loop. Hello?”
“A large circle with…” Patricia creased her brows. “A dove and a dragon?”
“WHAT?!” Jorg blurted out. “That’s…! Terry?!”
“Yes, that’s the mark the Faithless Saints used for the Veilbinder,” said Terry.
“Wait, really?” Patricia stared at the symbol again.
“The dragon of blood from the Second Great Crisis. The dove as the symbol of liberation for the souls freed from the Twin-Gods of Death.” Jorg muttered the words in almost a whisper. “A dove in peace. A dragon in war. A symbol of hope for the mortals. A symbol of fear for the False Gods.”
“Be careful,” warned Verecund with an eye on Terry. “This realm is obviously reacting somehow to you. We don’t want you whisked away unintentionally.”
Unintentionally?
Terry bit his lip.
***
“Jorg, you should go,” said Terry. “You need healing.”
“Not before you’re trying what I know you want to try,” stressed Jorg. “Even if I can’t accompany you, I want to at least know if someone else can.”
“So if it turns out the gate will work for others besides me, you’re not going to just follow?” asked Terry with narrowed eyes.
“I won’t,” said Jorg.
“Promise me,” said Terry.
Jorg frowned. “Fine, but I will run back to our family and inform them exactly of what happened today. If there’s any way to follow…”
They probably will.
Terry nodded. “Fine.”
“And if there’s any way for you to open the gate from the other side, you will, you hear me?” demanded Jorg.
Terry frowned. “I don’t know what’s lurking on the other side. I can’t promise that.”
Jorg glowered at his brother. “Oh, I’m so going to quote you on that when I meet Ma.”
“I think if you meet Ma, you’ll first have to worry about explaining your antennae,” retorted Terry.
“Yeah, and I’m going to deflect that conversation right onto you!” stressed Jorg. “And the longer she’ll have to wait to have a ‘talk’ with you, the worse it will get. So you better do your best to open a path for everyone to follow fast.”
Terry took a deep breath.
This would be another long conversation.
***
Terry looked at his companions. He had warned them that he believed the portal would not activate for more than one person. They had still insisted on being present.
Terry really wasn’t sure if he wanted to be wrong or not.
His gaze lingered on Tiana. If he had to go forward alone, then Tiana had accepted instructing Deekin to the best of her abilities. In mana cultivation and combat. In tactics and strategy, both in and outside of battle.
“Here.” Rafael handed Terry a stack of paper.
“Huh?” Terry looked at the handwritten documents in confusion. “What’s this?”
“Everything I know about the core formation process,” explained Rafael quietly. “If you want to dabble in dantian creation, then you should know how to properly get to the core establishment stage. Trust me, you don’t want to fly blind when doing this.”
Terry blinked with mouth agape. He had realized that Rafael was often gone the past few days, but never would he have imagined that his martialist friend was preparing a set of self-scribbled notes for him.
Is this because he might not be able to come with me?
Is this still because of what he saw when I tried to create a structure to liquify mana?
I told him this wasn’t about a dantian…
Terry didn’t have the heart to point that out to his friend. He saw no point to it, either. He would just add it to the list of reading materials he wanted to catch up on. This was no different from the local writings on magic he had gathered. Most of it was bound to be useless to him.
Most? Try practically all of it.
Still, there was a chance that something somewhere in there would eventually prove useful to him, if only as inspiration for further ideas.
“Thank you, brother,” said Terry. He noted the toothy grin on his friend’s face that followed his use of ‘brother’.
Terry said his goodbyes, just in case, even though everyone else tried to stay optimistic about following him. However, the moment they stepped into the area marked by the circle, it quickly became clear what would happen.
This was a path Terry had to walk alone.
This seal was a lot more restricted than the one that had brought them to the cursed realm. In addition to the approval of the local realm itself, there was more to the process. Terry felt his mind probed, but not in an invasive manner. It was more like a question.
Was he sure?
Was he ready?
Terry had been prepared. He was the first to answer. He could feel the incredible magic required to transfer him through the veil.
He could feel the magic drain, confirming his doubts about it being enough to allow more than a single person through without more time for the realm to recover.
How much time?
Who could tell?
***
Terry braced himself for another teleportation trap upon his arrival, but was greeted with nothing of the kind.
Instead, he arrived in a brightly illuminated dome. His mana rushed forward before he had even opened his eyes.
As his mana washed over the area, instant regret washed over Terry. The further his mana touch scouted, the more his chest compressed. The more his eyes widened. The more he felt like he was suffocating.
Like he was a tiny rabbit in a den of dragons.
Mana signatures of unimaginable intensity were casually strolling around everywhere.
Terry subconsciously held his breath. Afraid that the slightest sound or movement might cause one of these unfathomable monsters to notice him.
Something tickled at the edge of his mind.
Something familiar in his mana touch. Familiar and yet different.
The sudden realization hammered into Terry’s mind until nothing but horror was left.
The sensation on these mana monsters was similar to channeling anchors. Similar, but different, because this was the inverted mark.
A mark connecting to the faithful.
False Gods…
Terry gulped.
I’m so dead.
Terry forced himself to breathe calmly, hoping that the forced calm of his body would allow his mind to calm down as well.
Yeah, good luck with that. Have you seen those signatures? They were worse than the lich king! Worse than Weran! Worse than the magic sovereign! Worse than Devon— okay maybe not, but close!
Practically every single one!
For mana’s sake!
I’ve got myself stuck—
Terry hurriedly checked if there was any way to open the portal the other way, but there wasn’t.
Yup, stuck. STUCK. Stuck in a realm of walking gods. Even if these are not the False Gods claiming our realm in the old days, I’m still dead.
I’m so dead.
Dead or worse.
“Focus.” Terry hissed at himself.
At least I didn’t drag the others down with me.
I have to find a way to permanently destroy that portal. To prevent them from ever coming here.
I’m so dead.
“Focus.” Terry clenched his teeth and closed his eyes. He concentrated. Concentrated on nothing but his breathing. Until breathing was all that was in his mind.
One step at a time.
One step at a time.
One step at a time.
Terry didn’t even notice the group of gods approaching him.
“A new challenger?”
A strange voice entered Terry’s mind and shook him out of his panicked daze. A voice not spoken in words but something like the sensation of reading finger runes.
Terry narrowed his eyes at these overwhelming presences.
A floating fish with wings.
A mantis dressed in the robes of a priest.
An elf with eyes as black as ebony.
It was the mantis that addressed me.
“Interesting,” the elf spoke up. “It seems he arrived from the twin-death realms.”
“What? That’s impossible,” scoffed the fish. “The Twin Gods of Death have shut off their realm. No one has come from there, ever since—”
“Don’t speak his name or he might come,” warned the mantis. “I’d rather not deal with that impertinent fellow today.”
“I wish someone would finally kill the bastard,” said the fish.
“If anyone could, he’d long be dead,” growled the strange elf. “His mere existence is absolute blasphemy. This is the Court of Gods. He’s not a god. He’s a mortal. He doesn’t belong here.”
“Shh!” The mantis hissed at the elf. “Don’t let the Order hear you. It is not for us to decide the rules of the Court. Remember that the rules are sacred here!”
“Rules that allow the twice-damned mortal to make a mockery of all gods,” scoffed the fish. He floated closer to Terry. “What’s with these damned twins? How could they let their mortals reach such states? As if the first mortal god-slayer waltzing out of their realm-territory wasn’t enough, they’ve inflicted a pestering piece of unending filth on us, and now… what? What are you supposed to be? Are you hiding your strength? Are you hiding the twins’ blessings? The other mortals daring to enter the Court at least smelled of power, but you? Hmm…”
“Perhaps our new arrival has an idea of how to rid us of our previous problem?” The black-eyed elf stepped closer. “A way to shut that damned god-defier up once and for all? A way past the mortal’s immortality?”
Terry could feel the air being sucked out of his lungs. An unimaginable pressure of mana was targeting him while the deities were focusing their attention on him.
Until, suddenly, the pressure was gone.
“Now, now, you little shitstains worth of magic, what do you think you’re up to?!” A bald vampiric elf sashayed over to them. His presence pushed against the three gods and eased the pressure on Terry. “Any traveller arriving from my home cluster is naturally under my protection.”
The vampire smirked at them. “Of course, if you have a problem with that, I’d be happy to meet you in the arena. How about all three of you? Three puny gods against me. Surely, you wouldn’t be cowardly enough to just walk away now, would you?”
“Impudent fool,” hissed the mantis.
“The real fools are the worthless maggots delusional enough to believe freaks like you are worth worshipping,” sneered the vampire.
“I will not have my faithful insulted,” growled the black-eyed elf.
“Oh, really?” The vampire scoffed. “Could have fooled me, oh mighty god of maggots. All your faithful aren’t worth the air they’re breathing. So what? What are you going to do about it? You might throw your presence around on unsuspecting arrivals, but we both know you’re too much of a worm at heart to actually face me in the arena.”
“You’re weaker than all of us!” hissed the fish.
“Am I? And yet, I’m undefeated, while you’re all cowering at the mere idea of facing a faithless in the Court of Gods!” The vampire roared loudly with contemptuous laughter. “Worthless worms, all of you! Proclaiming yourselves gods as if your faith-marks are anything to be proud of. As if they weren’t just marks of your own cowardice! You’re all nothing but parasites on your followers! Sucking the life and mana out of the many to prolong your pathetic lives! Afraid of death is what you are!”
The vampire grinned while showing his vampiric canines. “While true strength lies in embracing death! If you let go of your fear of death, what else is there to fear?” He stepped toward the incensed gods. “What?! You got a problem with me? Come face me in the arena, then! Go for it! Embrace your deaths!”
It was clear that, despite all their blustering, the deities didn’t dare face the vampire in battle according to the rules of the Court.
Before they could weasel away, the vampire left a final remark. “Don’t think I didn’t hear you earlier. You call me mortal?” He scoffed. “Please, I’m the very definition of immortality. The difference between me and you is that I live on my own. I stand on my own. I’ve climbed the Court of the Gods with my own powers while you leech off the deluded fools you tricked into becoming your followers.”
Terry stared at the vampire while still searching for his breath. The presences pressuring him had long receded, but he still had trouble finding his usual serenity.
Only when the vampiric elf looked him straight in the eyes, could Terry finally manage to exhale a mutter of disbelief. “The Blasphemer…”
By mana… Swen the Blasphemer. Saint Swen.
A Faithless Saint. A living Faithless Saint. A legend from the Era of the Faithless Wars. Right here, in the flesh.
A companion of the Veilbinder. Here. Alive. In front of me.
Am I dreaming?
Can this be real?
“Are you alright in the head? Your face is twitching…”
Terry flushed under the eyes of a living legend of his realm.
Weirdo.
***
– End of Arc 9, Blessed Curse –
Comments
Meiser
Aww. The mark of “The Weirdo” returns.
Sesharan
For a second there, I was sure that Terry was about to meet the actual Veilbinder. And wow, Terry’s in the realm of the “gods”! This opens up so many interesting potential encounters with the patrons of cultists he’s met.
