The pain came immediately. Well, it wasn’t exactly pain, or even a sensation really, but Arthur didn't know how else to describe it. It was an instinctive sense of wrongness; the innermost part of him recognised he’d done something taboo. His body felt like an unfamiliar skin now, tainted by the liquid he’d imbibed.

  Arthur had been prepared for pain, for agony that would drive mortal men insane. This was something altogether different, though. His flesh had quite literally become a prison for his soul, though he’d yet to undergo any physical change, and it wanted out. When the pain finally did come, Arthur welcomed its familiarity. The burning of veins turned to fire, of flesh and bone breaking down; it was all things he’d experienced before, things he understood.

  Arthur grinned. An extremely high likelihood of failure. That was why exactly he’d primed his body with Wovan’s evolution first. The process from there proceeded much the same as his first, only far faster thanks to Vira’s rune circle. Arthur held on to consciousness for as long as possible, but it was a losing battle. He was fast asleep in under two minutes.

  Vira, meanwhile, continued to work on Arthur’s ritual. She wasn’t the greatest at the art, but her current companion knew enough about rituals to understand just how absurd Arthur's was. The remnant dragon spirit kept surreptitiously stealing glances at Arthur, who was now encased in an obsidian black orb. The dragon didn’t know what substance it was made from, but it was durable enough that he would have struggled to scratch it at even the heights of his power.

  “Vira, are you sure letting this continue is wise?” Viktor asked. “Arthur succumbing to corruption would be a disaster for life everywhere. Even if he is successful, I’m not sure we should be backing him.”

  “Wise,” Vira chuckled. “Wisdom won't save my people. That’s the yardstick I judge all my decisions by. You should know that much by now. We need the kind of insanity that Arthur Ward brings. I’ve seen his type before. He’s not interested in ruling. Subordination to him would be little different to how our lives go now.”

  Viktor sighed wearily, the sound containing the exhaustion of dozens of millennia. “You’ve seen more than I have, then. I’ve never met another like Arthur.”

  Vira grinned wryly. “Well, he does have the air of a progenitor about him. Unless he's got children, I think he’s the only one of his kind.”

  Vira turned back to her work. The orb floating behind her continued to darken, and it took her a few minutes to realise it was actually absorbing the light in the room. She retrieved a magic lamp from her storage ring, but it only helped for a second before its light too began to fade away. She huffed in annoyance and sped up her work.

  True to her fears, in the next few minutes, all light in the room disappeared, and she was forced to work in pitch-black darkness, relying on her memory and sense of touch to draw. Even the light Viktor's form had emitted for the last 20,000 years faded away.

  “This guy never makes working with him easy, does he?” Viktor complained.

  Things only got worse from there. The nether density in the basement continued to grow until ether itself began to break down and change. Deepstone became soft and brittle, and her body felt fragile in a way it only had when she’d been a child. Even the magically reinforced brush in her hand suffered, and Vira was thankful her body was currently too weak to break it by accident.

  The only thing unaffected by Arthur's refinement was his blood, or rather, it was. Just not negatively. The already viscous liquid became even thicker, becoming tar-like as it resonated with whatever was going on with Arthur. There was no light to see right now, but she’d bet her legs that the blood was now black. It just seemed like the type of edgy shit Arthur’s body would do.

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  Vira continued to work even as movement became more and more difficult. She felt like a mundane woman now, finally feeling the weight of all her years. At this point, she genuinely feared that she’d end up dead before Arthur's refinement was over. She was too weak for teleportation now, and the only exit to the basement was positioned behind the black orb. The only thing for it was to continue working, though she’d definitely be having words with Arthur once all this was over.

  An eternity later, though it was probably closer to half an hour, light finally began to return. Vira had been lying prone for the last few minutes, too weak to move under her own strength. She simply lay down and breathed in deeply for a while as she began to piece herself back together. Vira should have long been done by now, but nobody could’ve predicted the bullshit Arthur's refinement would cause.

  Grumbling under her breath, she got back to her feet and cleared away the mess her exhaustion had caused. The setback was annoying, but the feeling of her strength returning to her was enough to offset almost anything. Just as she’d suspected, Arthur’s blood now ran black and shone like oil. It practically screamed corruption, and Vira made sure none of it touched her skin.

  Viktor's form flickered with light before finally moving. “That was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever experienced," Viktor whispered. “Is that what it feels like to be human?”

  Vira didn’t deign the question with an answer, though she couldn’t help the small smile at hearing her old friend's voice again. The thought of losing the cantankerous old dragon had been far more terrifying than she’d thought.

  Three things happened at once. Vira heard the distinct crack of an orb breaking even as she completed the final line of Arthur's ritual. She couldn’t turn around to greet him, though.

  Every object in motion on Haadran suddenly stopped, the planet's rotation itself seemingly stuttering for the briefest of instances. The ancient healer couldn’t move. She couldn’t even draw breath.

  The only thing seemingly unaffected by it all was Arthur. She could sense him still breaking out of his shell, though no sound of it reached her ears.

  After all, how could sound travel in a planet where ether itself had been frozen solid?

  ~~~

  Tens of thousands of miles above Hadrian's atmosphere, the king of the ice-elf's proxy looked down on the corrupted planet, an expression of disgust marring what should have been a beautiful face. That and the fact that it was bleeding from every single one of its pores. His current vessel simply wasn’t strong enough to handle the amount of energy he was currently channelling.

  One of those drops of blood floated away into the vast emptiness of space before rapidly growing in size. A half second later, the Queen of Blood was standing beside him. She sighed theatrically.

  “You never were one to follow rules, were you, Duncan. I knew you’d never turn up to the trial unless you were up to something.”

  Duncan grimaced. “And you always have your fingers in too many pies, Lantris.”

  The Queen of Blood grinned. “Only the tasty ones, and I know you have a refined palate. You always did take me to the best places to eat."

  Lantris turned to stare down at the planet, her eyes widening in surprise. "The boy can move under the effects of your domain. That's—"

  "Impossible, yes," Duncan finished. "The boy's too dangerous to be left alive."

  Lantris frowned as she focused her attention on Arthur's blood, or rather, the lack of it. As the last descendant of the Original Vampire, she was connected to every drop of blood within the realm, at least loosely. Until now. Whatever it was that ran through Arthur's veins, rejected her presence like oil did water. Could it even be classed as blood? The frown lines on her face deepened as she considered the implications of what she was sensing.

  "I'm starting to think you might be right, though that might just be my paranoia talking. The boy will be useful if we let him live. He's got more potential than anyone I've ever seen before."

  Duncan shook his head. "You won't sway me on this, Lantris. The boy dies today."

  "I knew you two meddling bastards would be here," Ezrial spoke, stepping through folded space.

  Unlike them, Fatebreaker was here in person, courtesy of the first-ever Soulbound item he'd obtained in a Locus. Duncan had spent centuries trying to replicate its magic, but he'd never come close to succeeding. It was what made Ezrial so deadly. He could travel anywhere in the multiverse and never suffer the effects of lacking ether density.

  "You play a dangerous game, Fatebreaker," Lantris warned. "You may be able to stop us today, but you can't protect the boy forever."

  "Your empire's throne grows cold without you." Coming from the king of ice-elves, that was as deadly a threat as you could ever receive.

  "The boy shall not die today. The Council has decreed it." There was no presence to accompany the sudden voice, but it was like the universe itself had spoken. There was only one man who spoke like that, twin master of the Guild of Fringewalkers, and the Originators.

  Duncan sighed and lowered his hand, though his domain remained in place. At his level of power, it would persist for a while, even if he stopped feeding it energy.

  "Does the Council now move without consulting me?" He asked, voice ice-cold.

  "Peace, my friend," the voice spoke again. "You'll get your chance at the boy. The council wishes to test him. Let him complete whatever he's up to now. You can't deny that the ritual's interesting. Once he's done, your proxy can have a proper go at him under the conditions of sanctioned combat."

  Duncan huffed loudly, though he didn't say anything. The meaning behind the words was clear enough. Ezrial snorted in disgust, the veins at his temples throbbing with rage. The Council's orders were clear. They wanted to witness the ritual that had created an Ender-class entity. Once they'd satiated their curiosity, Arthur's usefulness ran dry.

  He was to be executed.

  Even if Duncan's current vessel was on its last legs, hell would have to freeze over before he failed to kill someone who hadn't crossed the level 300 barrier.

  Thousands of miles below in an underground basement, Arthur finally broke out of his shell completely. The young man turned to look up, through deepstone and the tens of thousands of miles that separated them.

  Even though Duncan knew it was logically impossible, it felt like Arthur Ward was staring straight at him.

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