Eric felt a jolt of alarm upon hearing Jack’s desperate cry for aid, not certain if he had been lost in a fugue for countless minutes, or just the blink of an eye. Either way, he could do nothing but move forward, no longer bothering to hide his strength this deep in the corridor he had chased the minotaurs in, racing for what he thought of as the central hub, his bow and new arrows at the ready.

Arrows that were now reinforced with the Essence of Dominion and linked to his soul, their tips a white-hot incandescence infused with the essence of flame.

And it was every bit as bad as he had feared.

In the time he had charged those three scouts like a head strong fool, no less than a full dozen minotaurs had taken the opportunity to charge the keep as one.

Emily’s desperate shriek immediately brought everyone to the fore, and Eric could only pray that Rich and the others had gotten enough rest to at least partially use their perks and feats.

Just in case he didn’t manage to take them all out, Eric thought with a furious grin as he knocked his bow, glaring at the minotaur even now ascending the wall after smashing a crater just above his carefully placed spikes.

He zeroed in on the back of it’s neck as if it were just a few scarce feet away as the dense fabric of air between hunter and prey faded to nothing.

And only then, when Emily was screaming and Ron shouting and calling an exhausted Richard seven kinds of fool for trusting an outsider, did Eric release his arrow.

Before immediately switching his focus, ignoring the confused shouts and the distant pop of a skull rupturing free of a minotaur’s head as Eric drew another bead. And another.

He took his time, of course, he was no fool. Even when his new friends were crying out in panic as four minotaurs, the farthest thing from stupid beasts, charged in tandem, actually managing to smash into the farthest wall from the tower Eric had worked so hard to fix.

Yet as infuriating as it was, as much as the desperate cries of his friends tore at his focus, he kept his focus as cold as the tips of his arrows were hot. Only taking shots that wouldn’t be deflected off of windmilling arms or furiously darting bodies.

It was far slower than he would have liked, tens of seconds instead of the blink of an eye.

But the icy satisfaction he felt when one roaring minotaur after another that was furiously on a snarling Ron’s upraised shield, or slamming Richard an instant before he could summon his party-wide golden auras… when those abominations suddenly stiffened with surprised looks upon their bovine faces as they opened their mouths to bellow, yet could only shoot out streams of incinerated lung and white-hot flame, Eric felt a fierce satisfaction as the predators became the prey.

True Strike!

Void Piercer!

Find Weakness skill check made. You have critically struck your target!

Sadly, not every shot went his way. Because even when he spent precious seconds infusing the limbs of his bow to send his arrows at Mach 4 without shattering... it still wasn’t enough to pierce their impossibly thick skulls. No matter that the arrow was 5 times normal density and made of their own femurs. Clearly, absurdly potent protective magics were in play, and perhaps it made sense, considering the force with which they charged their targets with those very same skulls.

But the furiously pounding hearts that were double the size of an elephant’s were beautiful targets his Infravision enhanced Find Weakness had no problem picking out. And for all that the first shot bounced off ribs as touch as the skull… The second and third arrow found their marks.

And the fourth a well.

Then the fifth.

And suddenly the minotaurs were down to half their strength, and Ron was protecting a downed Richard as Jack dodged and darted furiously, perforating as many minotaurs as he could with his own brand of death, for all that Eric could tell that exhaustion and feat depletion had finally taken its tole on perhaps the longest lasting member of their team. Jack’s furious aggression also helped protect Emily, now wide-eyed and trembling in the crumbling remains of the ruins, desperately trying to feed a potion to a comatose Steve.

As for Yuki… Eric saw not a trace, He could only hope that meant that she was embracing the shadows, preparing to hamstring half a dozen of the fuckers now uniformly glaring Eric’s way.

Eric’s lips stretched wide in a feral grin as all their focus turned on him.

It was effortless to light himself up with wild flickering flame. Showy, pointless, the opposite of his sniping style, but at that moment, it was fine. Right now, he wanted to draw his prey in.

“That’s right, motherfuckers! Fresh elven flesh for the bull-faced asshole that can get me! And by the way, I fucking love hamburgers. Almost as much as I love pork! You don’t like it? Then ignore your fucking appetizer and head for the main course! Because if you don’t take me out, I sure as fuck am coming for you!”

Words he emphasized with the twang of his bow as one of the half dozen snorting bull-heads stiffened and toppled over with a white-hot arrow blazing and spurting in its right eye, skull gushing superheated fluids and fire as the minotaurs left bellowed their hatred and went charging Eric’s way.

Just a heartbeat before a reappearing Yuki could hamstring the last.

She huffed and glared Eric’s way. “You’re so fucking stupid… they’re going to kill you. Run, you goddamned idiot! Run!”

But Eric was tired of running. Tired of fear, pain, and the terror of death.

What he felt with the five giant sized lumbering assholes who actually thought they could tag him if he didn’t want to be tagged was fierce exultation…

And a hunger for their deaths.

352 Quickness UTTERLY DOMINATES your foes!

Speed Racer controls all inertia.

Perception and Finesse allow for enhanced Battle-time!

You have successfully weaved past your opponents blows.

You have dared to manifest Transcendent flame!

“Fire Fist!” Eric roared the words as he struck, simply because he could.

A brilliant flash of impossibly hot light flooded the corridor.

Yuki screamed in surprised dismay.

“Fuck! What the fuck just happened!?”

And before she could blink away the dazzling lights, the hallway flared with the brilliance of a supernova yet again.

“Fuck, I’m blind! Goddamn it!”

Her words died off to eerie silence. Save for groans and panicked sobs, the horrific clatter of hooves to stone tiles, black steel against enchanted shields and the desperate shouts of a Javelineer pushing his class beyond all limits… all of it had been replaced by the roar of silence as Eric gazed down with dazed disbelief at his brilliantly shimmering hand.

Then looked to the perfectly smooth crater that had eaten into the wall.

Of the five giant minotaurs, Eric didn’t see a trace.

“Jeezus T.H... I don’t fucking believe it.”

Eric swallowed, heart pounding as he gazed at his own trembling fist.

You are directly responsible for the deaths of 10 Minotaurs!

Bow is now Rank 21!

Find Weakness is now Rank 25!

You are more than halfway to your next level!

CONGRATULATIONS! You are the first Contender to unleash a higher order manifestation of any element within this quadrant! You have successfully obliterated multiple enemies of a higher level than your primary class with a single blow!

FIRE ESSENCE – BLAZING – HAS ACHIEVED RANK 4!

System-Wide Notice! Eric Silver has earned the ELITE title: Divine Trailblazer!

(Good thing you’re currently trapped in a dimensional maze rift, blocked from all outside communication! Because if your enemies were eager for your head three hours before, that’s nothing compared to how much they would all want you dead now!)

You have earned the following boons for your incredible feat!

You now enjoy +5 Points to ALL potency potentials that you have currently unlocked!

You now enjoy #$@%^ Increase in Essence based damage!

You now enjoy a @#%#@% reduction in the cost of all Essence-based abilities!

NOTE.

TRANSCENDENT ATTACKS CANNOT BE MODIFIED BY TITLE BOONS.

(As skill enhancements are a reflection of your evolving soul, skill enhancements and class evolutions alone may modify the potency and efficiency of essence-based Platonic ideals.)

Eric’s mind was whirling as multiple messages thundered in his ears. He had enjoyed a handful of essence related skills for quite awhile, and had used Burst of Strength, Heat Surge, and Infravision, later evolved to Unified Perception, since his earliest days. All of which had allowed him to survive so long and overcome such perilous odds. But those had been skills based on his essences. Even his blood-enhanced armor, deadly arrows and fire that seemed to burn endlessly was but manipulating his blood with an essence’s end result. Heat that became flame.

Now that he thought of it, his runes but described the ideal of the essence, and his own affinities allowed him to infuse so much more meaning into his Spells than he could otherwise hope to. Even infusing the essence of Dominion into so much of his armor… it had been inspiration, the shadow of the higher platonic ideal, not the ideal itself, that had infused his runes. Yet even that had been enough to give him access to a handful of greater rune variants. For all that they only contained the faintest echo of the ultimate power that essences could allow a Contender to unlock.

The ability to transcend earthly limitations and unleash higher order manifestations of the very Platonic ideal of flame.

Destruction in its most primal form.

As proven just now, when he had lashed out with a fist that was the perfect fusion of Spiritual Energy and the pristine ideal of Fire given life as a perfect form. Utterly obliterating everything in the radius of that punch.

It wasn’t just lingering heat or a boosted rune.

It wasn’t a mortal flame that would last for eternity, after being locked in a blood covered arrow.

This was infinite heat, the absolute ideal of flame, allowed to exist for just an eyeblink of time.

More than enough to obliterate anything below Bronze. Heck, he was pretty damned certain his final punch would have taken out a Bronze-tier Cultivator as well, assuming that they couldn’t tap into similar higher-order manifestations of their powers. Right now, he still had no idea if what he had manifested was as rare as diamond or as common as glass for those who continuously progressed along Peril’s Path.

And that cheeky note by the System.

What the fuck?

As if it was both acknowledging his worst, most jaded fears… that announcements were as much about giving the established powers plenty of opportunity to crush lone wolves and independents even as they lauded and commended their chosen scions who were already thriving in the bosom of their well-established families eager to see them achieve similar feats…

Yet the message had also acknowledged that where Alex was had made all the difference in assuring his anonymity…. And that, so far… his secret was safe.

Even if the six accusatory stares pinning him where he now stood made it damn clear that that anonymity wouldn’t last for very long.

“You! This is all your fault, you goddamned asswhipe!” Roared none other than Ron, nostrils flaring as he glared at Eric, hand rhythmically squeezing the hilt of his sword.

Richard, Eric was relieved to see, was still among the living, for all that he was comatose, being held in a sobbing Emily’s arms.

Steve was slumped over, panting, carefully not moving an inch, and Eric had to suppress a wince at the sight of his intestines spurting between trembling fingers. Even as Eric could also sense them slowly getting slurped right back in the pasty-faced kids’ body... proving just how damned useful inhuman Vitality could be, as Steve’s regeneration rate fought against the health point drain of a disemboweling blow. Yet for all that, he still found the energy to flash Eric a pasty smile.

“I knew you were holding out on us, you clever bastard.” It was a whispery wheeze Eric nonetheless made out perfectly, even as Ron rapidly closed the distance, Jack doing all he could to pull him back.

“Come on, Ron. Relax! We’re all alive. That’s what matters.”

“Back the fuck off, Jack! All of this. All of this bullshit is his fault!”

Eric grit his teeth, tired of turning the other cheek with the bellicose guardian, refusing to budge when the man jabbed a finger in his chest.

“You! Admit it! This! All of this fucking bullshit is you’re fucking fault!”

Eric gazed coldly at the man. “Let me get this straight. You’re blaming your, what, survival on me? Because yes. You should be.”

Ron shook his head furiously. “No, you idiot. I’m blaming the whole fucking ambush on you! You left your post!” he said, lips curling in a bitter smile. As if desperate to find something to pin on him. “If you hadn’t left your post, our fort would still be upright, and half our team wouldn’t be injured!”

Eric quirked an eyebrow. “You sure about that, Ron? Because the way I see it, I cleared the corridor behind me of minotaurs and set myself up for a clean line of fire from angles no one was expecting. Which meant I could take them out systematically, methodically, while the rest of you were just keeping your balance and trying to survive.”

Eric’s cold logic had Ron snarling with fury.

“We would have been fine if the keep hadn’t collapsed!”

Eric smirked. “And you think I could have somehow stopped them cold if I had been at that wall that very second? Bullshit. All I would have done was get sent tumbling the air, after shooting a single fucker’s eye out. But from where I was standing? I got five heart shots… a couple deflections as well, but five of those furiously flaming fuckers are down because I know what I’m doing, and actually know how to line up a shot. Now if you’ll excuse me, Ron, I’m going to check on Steve.”

“Just hold up a second, asshole. We’re not done talking!”

“Oh, I think we are.”

“We know about your title… Eric Silver! We know who you fucking are!”

Eric shrugged. “Good for you.”

The man snarled, grabbing Eric’s wrist. “You’re the Silver Queen’s bastard prince of a son. Elonia Silver’s brother!”

The air rang with his words. Eric sensed everyone going deathly still.

“Your point?”

“Oh fuck, we are so dead,” Steve sobbed, gripping his wound and softly cursing under his breath.

Ron’s face took on a twisted snarl. “You’re why half the administrative nobility of New York went to Freetown, asshole! It was to put you down!”

Eric noted the looks of horror and dismay that the party members still conscious were giving him while Ron squeezed his wrist as tight as he could, trying to yank his arm back while drawing his blade with his other hand, now glowing a brilliant red with a power in play, before pressing it against Eric’s kidney, melting right through his scales.

Somehow, Eric wasn’t surprised to find a near 50th leveled player’s class ability was able to cut right through armor that had been made while he was at single digit levels, no matter how much effort or essence-infused blood he had fused into the scales since then. Because that was the point. The touch of power was indirect. A very powerful enhancement, but no more than that.

He hadn’t been using essence to tap into a higher order Platonic ideal, like a fucking pristine form that could sear the world itself.

Until suddenly, he could. Fusing it perfectly with Spiritual Energy in one glorious gestalt whole, and triggering an unexpected Elite-tier title, and a 20 point stat boon with the implication that it could have been so much more. It was a title so raw and unexpected that the notification had edited remnants of promised feats that the System itself was rebuffed from tying directly to those abilities, because Transcendent Strikes really were that fucking powerful.

And from the very first day he had awoken a crippled burned wreck after refusing to surrender his essences, it had been made fucking clear that the goblins and orc shamans had some clue as to just how powerful the path of Essence could become… a window giving the wisest or luckiest Contenders a glimpse of so much more than what the world they knew held. So those bastards had been intent on either destroying people like him, or stealing away their most sacred gifts, with every single tainted pod they seeded the world with. Because they had been stacking the odds and using Earth’s own ascension to assure humanity’s utter downfall since day one. And probably many decades before he had ever been born.

And that raised a very terrifying possibility that he didn’t even want to think about. But seeing the mindless hate in Ron’s eyes, he couldn’t help but wonder.

Had his mother somehow known?

Known he was on the cusp of a major breakthrough? One that if blared by the System at large, which any Elite or Master Title was wont to do, would have set the entire world against him? Any and all factions that weren’t the Sylvan alliance uniting in bringing him down? He could only imagine just how hot and furious the bloodlust against him would have been then. Even worse, he feared that a certain Silver-tier goblin seer would have woken up from his stupor enough to assure Eric’s absolute and utter destruction.

But even so, somehow Eric was damned certain that had he not been forced into the utter crucible of agony, had he not been riding waves of torment lasting for actual hours that felt like a horrific lifetime of pain, forcing him to focus every iota of his soul upon forcing HEAT into that damned collar, desperate to destroy it from within… using his most basic and primal masteries to finally gain control of his own agony, Dominion over his own soul. Then being forced to rely on the essence of Fire in a dungeon that should have killed him with that damned collar but now…

Eric’s heart began to pound.

He wanted to scream.

Because the torments he had endured… the degree to which he had been stress-tested without being outright killed… even the doom he had fled which had tasted NOTHING like his mother’s soul… but rather something far older, far more terrible… to think that it had somehow been a deliberate, calculated move on the part of another was beyond horrific.

Yet to find himself here and now, awakening powers that would be his death sentence anywhere save this maze, the very torment that had forged him both awakening him to his own potential and assuring his undying hate against his foes… Aurelia’s foes…

It had his mother’s fucking signature all over it.

But still, he had absolutely no fucking doubt that his mother had coldly sacrificed his piece for the sake of 360,000 or so troops in a time and place where even 15,000 had been a huge number and she had been down a few hundred broken souls. Not to mention tens of thousands of innocent children pulled from a massive crucible of steel that would have forever bound their souls in torment, Eric bargaining his strongest chips away to save them all from the literal jaws of hell, just in the nick of time. Children who would now forever worship Elonia as the queen she was, no doubt elevating her spiritually in all sorts of ways Eric couldn’t even begin to quantify. And his mother suddenly had a beautiful little waif in her arms that was clearly her blood, thrown in as a cherry on top. A cute little doll, a fresh new daughter to raise in place of the son she was losing.

Eric couldn’t deny that he had most definitely been a pawn sacrificed for a Queen’s ascension.

But the horrifying possibility remained that, as fucking high as the likelihood of his own death had been, his mother had nonetheless been positioning myriad other pieces in a scheme so conniving that his Master Criminal perk couldn’t help but admire it. A scheme that had allowed for at least the possibility of not only his survival, but his own ascension, Eric now able to manifest higher order transcendent strikes to which there could be no mortal equivalent. Even if he could only ever manifest four at a time… nine per hour if he used Crimson Orb, revealing his necromantic origins as well.

FUCK!

He just didn’t know. And dealing with a thousand year old Silver-tier monster who shouldn’t even be in this world where presently any Bronze save for Blue Corp was utterly forbidden… he didn’t think there was a chance in hell he’d ever get a straight answer as to what was truly going on.

And now here he was, forced to face down the children of the very administrators who had gunned for his death.

Boys and girls nearly the same age as he, who now knew his darkest secret, one not even he had expected to manifest. And if word got out… he feared the entire world would be out for his head, long before he was ready.

It was pretty fucking clear what had to happen now, if he wanted any sort of breathing room at all, if and when he finally escaped this bullshit maze.

Eric swallowed, heart pounding as he looked toward Emily sobbing over Richard’s fallen form, Steve grimacing in agony as he desperately fought to hold in his own too slowly healing intestines.

All of them so damned vulnerable.

All of them little more than children.

Even Jack was flinching before his gaze.

“Eric Orcbane,” the freckled boy whispered, the javelin in his hand so ready to throw slumped point first as he lowered his head. “We are so fucked.”

Eric shook his head in dismay. Did his mother really expect him to slaughter them all in cold blood?