My blood flows unabated into the stone bowl, filling it halfway. I take a couple seconds to create a globe of water out of the moisture in the air and wash my hands, getting rid of the excess blood. I’m engaging in some very important guess work here and I’d hate to get blood all over my project. Well, I’d hate to do it accidently. I’m about to do it on purpose though.

My blood and my Monster Core have never gotten along, but I have this theory that a Magic Core will help bridge that gap. Since I’m on a life and death timeline, right now is the best possible time for me to experiment with this theory.

I take a Magic Core, one of many in the bag I stole from that gargoyle, and place it between my palms. My body tenses as I prepare to crush it into powder, using my brand-new strength stats, curtesy of being a Tyrant. But first, I stretch out my senses to connect with my blood in the bowl, urging it to form a whirlpool. Even though the blood is gone from my body, I still feel connected to it. I have my suspicions about it being a Vampire Racial Ability, but I haven't received a notification for it. Maybe there is no notification because I haven’t ‘Awakened’ as a Vampire Lord? It would be sort of ironic considering I’m already an ‘Awakened.’ Heh.

The powdered Magic Core hisses and fizzles as it makes contact with my whirlpool of blood. I release the powder by rubbing it between my hands like seasoning a steak with salt crystals, allowing it to dissolve in my blood a little at a time. As far as I can tell, my blood eats it up. The Magic Core is supposed to be a symbolic representation of my Source, something to aid in my imagery. In a practical sense, I’m hoping the neutral energy will mellow out my blood enough for me to mix in a Monster Core. My insticts are urging me toward this course of action, hinting that I need to represent all three of my energies in this magic circuit if I'm going to bring my full power to bear.

I have no idea why my Blood Energy and Tyrant Core don’t get along. As far as I can tell, Vampires and Tyrants aren’t all that different. They are both vicious and arrogant assholes trying to warp me into being more like them via their innate instincts. Before my Monster Core warped into a Tyrant Core, I didn’t think about it too much. I mean, my Monster Core kept me from fully becoming a Vampire. As I understand it, the final step was for the Blood Energy to stop my heart so I could be reborn as an Undead. So, I can appreciate a grudge there, but…

I don’t know. It’s a stretch. That kind of logic would assume the energies in my body possess a measure of sentience and that is not—Well, it could be possible, but I’m not emotionally prepared to deal with that line of thought, so I’m going to ignore it.

Ignoring your problems is a tried and true method of dealing with them, trust me.

The Magic Core mixes dissolves into the blood with no issues. I keep the blood spinning in the bowl and prepare two Monster Cores. The first, I eat. I need to be in tip top shape if this is going to work. If all goes well, the mountain creature we're on will die in a way that its clear I used excessive force. If that works, I can use this method on the Unmoving Mountain, which Kandra estimates to be multiple times more powerful than our current target.

I take the second Monster Core, crush it into to powder and sprinkle into my concoction.

The whole fucking thing explodes, almost taking my hands off in the process.

Soundwaves, generated by the explosion, echo off the moving cliffs around us, booming in multiple directions. The reverberation is both a blessing and a curse. The curse is that now the hungry things down here will look for us; the blessing is that with all that echoing it’s gonna be a hellish nightmare to pinpoint our location.

Back to work, I guess.

***

Over the next few hours I try a multitude of combinations to make this thing work. The details are long and tedious and I’d rather not think about it anymore than I have to. Suffice to say, I figured it out. By making small batches and forcefully containing the explosion, I managed to create this thing.

The tricky part was containing the explosion. I tried wind barriers, ice barriers, fire barriers, etc.; I used Source and Blood Energy to reinforce my hands to contain it with flesh; I made Kandra use her body (slimes can resist most physical impacts so it isn't familiar cruelty, honest). All of this to no avail. My working theory is that each type of Source I tried further contaminated the mixture, making it more unstable. Well, it was a hypothesis at the time, but you could say I confirmed it.

In the back of my mind I know there is a method to confirm hypotheses, but for the life of me I can’t remember how. Seems like a weird memory to erase, but it’s one of many.

Anyway, I managed to give raw Source a form. I concentrated it in my hand like I was going to activate my skill [Smash], but instead of releasing an explosion of Source from my hands, I forced it out as smooth and gentle as I could. After several minutes of intense effort, a translucent mist distorted the air around my hands. It took a few tries, but I shaped the Source into a shell around my mixture. It took blood, sweat, and tears, but I fucking did it and I earned a notification for my troubles.

Achievement Unlocked!

More than Fuel: Discover one of the unique uses of Source.

Adaptability +1

This has a lot of implications, the least of which being I now have 13 adaptability points. Finding a way to earn another two points is worth thinking about, but right now I have a mountain to kill. Gambling on an evolution that is two achievements away won't help me right now. It is difficult to gain those achievements, they seem almost random. As for using pure Source in a semi-solid form as a weapon... if making constructs out of Source is as difficult as other skills, it will take too long to get good at it. Too long for it to be viable now.

The mixture is ready, the magic circuit is carved, and it’s time for the next phase of my plan. The easiest part.

I take the thick, purple substance, the Cores made my blood thick and purple, and spread it into the grooves of the magic circuit. It is a delicate process, but its nothing compared to making the circuit and the mixture.

A single rune dominates the center of the circuit. The rune of death. Above all, that’s what I’m aiming for here, death. The other runes, connected by an aesthetically pleasing group of lines, are there to help me focus on how I want death to come about. They are comprised of madness, fear, and prey. Fear and madness are kind of the same thing, with prey designating how the mountain creature will feel when it sees the illusory dragon.

Outside of those runes are another set of runes, there to determine how I want the circuit to work. It basically translates, in my mind, to ‘Absorb Source, Monster Core, and Blood Energy until full. Activate on voice command.’ Pretty basic stuff, I think.

I’m guessing here. Back when I was an all-powerful Demon Lord, magic would just do what I wanted whenever I asked. Life was so much easier back then.

The mixture goes in with ease, the dense block of ice freezing it into place. I take a step back and admire my masterpiece. Two more steps and I’ll be ready to slay a giant.

“Are you done?” Quinn peers quizzically over my shoulder.

“Not yet,” I shake my head. “This is basically just the shell. I still need to fill it.”

“Hmmm,” Quinn grunts half-heartedly, wrapping her arms around my waist from behind and laying her chin on my shoulder. “Can it wait until morning?”

“It might,” I smirk, spinning around in her grasp so we’re face to face. I can feel her heart beating next to mine, but I push that particular brand of temptation out of my mind. “Did you have something else in mind?”

She grabs my butt, a playful spark lighting up her eyes. “As a matter of fact-“

“Excuse me, Master.” Kandra’s voice cuts through our intimate moment the way an accountant cuts apart hopes and dreams. “Perhaps it would be best if you filled your construct with as much energy as possible before engaging in…. Activities. Just in case.”

Quinn pulls a face and opens her mouth to tell Kandra off, but I press my lips against her before she can talk. For an intense few minutes, we kiss as we are the only two people in the world. There may or may not have been some heavy petting. I can neither confirm nor deny those accusations.

“She’s right,” I say when we come up for air. “Let me finish this up first, just in case.”

Quinn nods her assent, but fails to hide a grimace. I consider trying to make her feel better but… I don’t know, I’ve got a lot of work to do if I want to kill this thing and escape from her husband with our life. Is ignoring a problem a great way to conduct a relationship? Probably not, but it works for the rest of my problems so…

“How long do you think it will take?” Quin asks.

“I’m not sure. This is my first time doing this,” I say, flashing her a big smile.

“Ugh,” she rolls her eyes at me. “I’ll keep watch while your familiars find us a place to spend the night. It’s getting dark.”

I follow her advice and send Kandra and Nevasca off, with a few words and images, to look for a place where we can spend the night in relative safety. Before they leave, I make sure to take a couple minutes and scratch Nevasca right between the shoulder blades, underneath the tangle of feathers running along her spine. She has been pouty the last couple days, probably because I've been using her as bait and not letting her kill anything. Poor Nevesca. But, with a vigorous scratching session, her grumpy demeanor melts away into a large stretch, her tails curling and uncurling in a satisfied sort of way. At least this is one relationship that isn’t hard to maintain.

Now, loyal familiars sent away, flame creations somewhere enroute, and disgruntled lover practicing miniature dragon illusions nearby, I start the final step. I lay my hands on the slab of ice, engraved with the magic circuit I’ve been working on all day, and I push. Blood Energy, Core Energy, and Source pour into the circuit, imbuing it with what I hope is awesome power. The three energies combine easily, no doubt a product of the mixture filling the runes.

It is slow going. The maximum rate at which I can use ‘energy’ of any kind to alter the world around me becomes painfully obvious the more I push. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s a limitation of my Intelligence stat. While it’s in my body, it feels a lot more fluid, but pushing it into the circuit is a chore. Unlike my spear creation, there is no resonance here that makes the energy flow faster.

On the bright side, sitting here pushing around energy is a great opportunity to practice my skills. You know, pushing and gathering the different energies in specific patterns inside my body for different uses. I’ve pretty much gotten the [Crush] skill figured out, but the rest remain a mystery. Either way, this feels like it is going to take forever, even with a distraction. Even though I'm dividing my attention over several tasks, I get bored. I get bored faster than I thought possible. Maybe if I had someone to talk to it would be better? Hmmm...

“Mr. Narrator,” I whisper, careful to not disturb Quinn. Not only is she busy practicing, she also treats me like a crazy person when it comes to my Narrator. I mean, its not THAT far-fetched. We are all fictional characters who gained awareness of our existence as fiction. Anyone who has ever read any fiction knows the narrator of a story is practically a character in and of themselves. A narrator being an Awakened but lacking a physical body makes total sense. Anyone who disagrees can fucking fight me. “Would you mind helping me through this part? Our deal will remain the same, this is a singular exception. Sound fair?”

‘Very well,’ the rich, masculine voice slides into my head. ‘But now you know making me a body is achievable, I would appreciate it done sooner rather than later. Living cooped up in your head like this is not ideal.’

“Deal,” I whisper my assent in decisive tones. Having someone in my head is not something I enjoy. “Go ahead whenever you’re ready.”

‘In the darkness of this abyss, our hero sits, surrounded by the looming figures of both literal and figurative giants. The dark shapes of living mountains shift and sway, a constant reminder of the battle ahead. They are intimidating, yes. But what weighs on his heart is not the murderous task before him, but the heavy responsibilities he finds himself burdened by.

Brought into this world and given a chance to change his destiny, our hero has done nothing but create problems for himself. Perhaps a wiser man would run away, leaving the angel to her fate, but our hero is not a wise man. He is-‘

“Hey!” I hiss. “I have enough self-doubt without you pouring fuel on the flames. Knock it off.”

‘I would be a poor narrator if I allowed myself to be swayed by your bias,’ the voice rebukes. ‘If you will not take responsibility for your faults, who will?’

I consider his words with care, but I can’t find a flaw in his logic. A flaw in his personality because he is such an asshole? Yes, but no logical flaw. “I know you’re right, but that doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it,” I admit, defeated.

‘Your displeasure means nothing to me. I am nothing but an objective observer.’

“Nothing but an asshole,” I murmur.

‘Do you want me to continue or not?’ The voice shows no reaction to my childish insult. Poor form, if you ask me. Clever plays on words should always be acknowledged, like Mordai’s sexual innuendos.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

‘With certain defeat looming on all sides, our hero still does not give in. Instead of allowing himself to be corrupted in exchange for power, he marches to the beat of his own drum. If this is the correct decision, or a fool’s errand, only time can tell.

Long hours crawl by at a pace that can only be explained by a distorted perception of time. With every breath, he pours a little more of himself into the project. Anxiety and worry nip and gnaw at him, like dogs herding sheep to the slaughter. And like a helpless lamb, he stumbles forward, ever forward, toward the maw of destiny.

If our hero is unable to kill even a lowly minion of the Unmoving Mountain, what chance will he have against the actual Guardian. Many have tried before, and all but a few have failed. Even if he succeeds, he must ask himself if the sacrifice is worth the reward.’

“You know what? You’re kind of pretentious.”

‘Your opinion does not matter to me.’

“Fuck you.”

Name: Snowflake von Vordaray *(Bodyrk)

Race: Lesser Tyrant Empathia

Title: *Snowflake

Class: Spellspear

Subclass: None

Job: Floor Master (Pending)

Level: 37 (+12)

Health: 825/825

Energy: 437.5/437.5

Strength: 97 (+46)

Stamina: 85 (+35)

Dexterity: 93 (+30)

Intelligence: 92 (+30)

Wisdom: 83 (+42)

*Adaptability: 13 (+3)

Consolidated Level Bonuses:

Monster: +1 Strength, +1 Stamina

Vampire: N/A

Bloodline: N/A

Lesser Empath: +1 Wisdom, +1 Intelligence

Lesser Tyrant Empathia: +2 Strength, +2 Wisdom

Class: +1 Dexterity, +1 Intelligence

Familiar: +0.5 Dexterity, +0.5 Intelligence, +0.5 Wisdom

Monster and Lesser Empath Racial traits consumed. Bonuses no longer apply.

Level Bonus Total: +2 Strength, +1.5 Dexterity, +1.5 Intelligence, +2.5 Wisdom (+1 all stats per level)