Chapter 441: Wave 90

Myy PC has a problem, so I wrote/translatef half this chap and the next on my phone. Hence why it could have more typo than usual. Sorry in advance.

More coming asap. (monday ~midday.)

PS: patron app isn't the best with formating. The pdf should be MUCH better. fixed!

Chapter 441: Wave 90

With Clock’s death, the white cube vanished, revealing a classic Roman arena with fine sand, empty stands, and black sky. After all, the Colosseum stood on the Moon.

Perhaps impressed by the way he had unlocked [Curse Anathema] while utterly disregarding his own safety, the System warned Priam that he had half an hour to rest before wave ninety.

“Eighteen hundred seconds… Not exactly enough to recharge my batteries,” Priam grumbled, glancing at his add-on.

[Aether pool = 15/1748 (meta endurance)

Aether regen = 147.4 per hour ((meta affinity/10)*1(local ambient aether factor))

Time until full: 11.9 hours]

One didn’t need to have played RPGs to know that balanced stats prevented disasters. Just as a warrior could shatter their own bones if their strength far exceeded their constitution, a mage could spend a week refilling their aether reserves if their meta endurance vastly outstripped their meta affinity.

All things considered, Priam didn’t have much to complain about: half a day to fill an aether pool as vast as his wasn’t ridiculous. Especially since seventeen hundred points could accomplish a lot. For instance, running eighty-nine waves while freely spamming Concepts before finally supplying the energy needed to create a Transcendent curse. In truth, more than summoning a few tempests of fire, that last part was what had drained Priam.

The recoil from those feats was now catching up to him, and the Champion was merely reaping what he had sown.

“Still sucks. In Elysium, I wouldn’t even have to think about this…”

According to the temporary formula he had devised, aether regeneration depended on his soul’s ability to filter ambient energy—since for now, Priam had no way to produce his own. As a result, meta affinity—the filter—was just as important as the local aether density. And with a concentration ten times higher than the Moon’s, Elysium could regenerate the Juggernaut’s reserves in under two hours. Less downtime, more time to train: yet another reason behind the superiority of the spearhead world’s fighters.

Opening a portal to Concepts Archipelago, Priam found himself face to face with Sna.

“My Lord.”

“Got the curse resistance. Now I need an aether potion… or anything that’ll refill my reserves before the next fight,” he said before noticing the expression on his new subordinate’s face. In a rare display of emotion, the usually impassive shaman narrowed her eyes. “Problem?”

“By devouring a Transcendent malediction, your ocular curse has evolved.”

“...”

Priam summoned a disc of mist, condensed it into liquid, then froze it using his kinetic skill. In the improvised mirror, his reflection stared back with heterochromic eyes. Two mismatched orbs: one harboring a cloud, the other a storm. The kind of trait that looked cool on a manga protagonist… and weird in real life.

“Fuck.”

“Is the aesthetics of your eyes troubling you?” asked his phoenix mentor as it perched on his shoulder. “Not the spontaneous mutation of a hex sitting in direct contact with your brain?”

“When I was a teen, I had gastroenteritis so painful I wanted to die. Considering that unlocking [Curse Anathema] hurt even worse, I damn well hope it’ll babysit Hecate’s New Moon. I’m not torturing myself for resistances for nothing.”

“You suffer to be free, yet let yourself be chained by vain appearance?”

Priam tilted the disc to study his new eye from every angle. “By chasing Zenith, I know I’m drifting from my humanity. Sometimes because of my choices, sometimes visually.” Fiery hair, cloudy eyes, bloodfire wings, spectral scales, the list kept growing. “Funny thing is, none of that ever bothered me as long as I looked cool.” He winced. “Kinda lame when I say it out loud… but I just want to recognize myself when watching my reflection.”

In short, Priam didn't want to lose himself.

After a few seconds of silence, the phoenix cleared its throat. “For what it’s worth, this mutation adds a touch of exoticism to your gaze.”

“It makes it hypnotic,” Sna added.

“Thanks guys,” Priam deadpanned. A male bird and a hundred-year-old snakewoman weren’t exactly the audience he expected to share aesthetic affinities with.

A notification forced itself into his field of vision:

According to a survey of a society panel, this mutation is rated positive. Projections indicate an increase in sales of boxers, thongs, strings, and multi-strings* by 2die4 following this change in style. Keep up the good work, buddy!

*For customers with more than two legs, tentacles, or other appendages. ‘2die4—as inclusive as death.’

Priam smiled at Thaal’s abuse of privilege. A society panel? I hope he didn’t gather unfortunate mid-Tiers to rate my evolution…

In truth, the message reassured him: advertising lied only to consumers. If the Champion became ugly, Thaal would tell him. And if Esmée found the eye too disturbing, he could always modify it during the upcoming racial upgrade.

“Anyway, better make sure there’s no issue. Can you take a look?” Priam asked, pointing at his socket.

Sna didn’t even smirk at the pun. Moments later, the Lord of Oasis was lying in the grass, body tensed as the shaman kneaded his eyeball like a stress ball.

To escape the unpleasant sensations, his mind replayed the previous fight and the birth of the Transcendent curse. A useful exercise as it let him spot the lifesaving interventions of [Chimera]. The Talent had pitted his bloodlines against the hex to contain it. Without that, he would be dead.

As Priam marveled at the luck riding alongside his recklessness, his aether reserves refilled. The energy density of his inner world—eight times higher than the Moon’s—helped, as did the alchemically fermented lotus root he was sucking on. He would enter the next fight fully charged. And thanks to his disgusting vitality, most of his internal injuries would also be gone. Moments like this are why I love his build. A glass cannon mage is only sexy as long as he didn’t take a punch to the face.

A beak approached his eye, and Priam instinctively shut his eyelids. Sna clicked her tongue in annoyance.

“What are you thinking about?” asked the phoenix.

“That even though I love magic, I’m glad I don’t have a specialist’s build.”

“Hm.”

The bird settled on his face. It was so close that Priam went cross-eyed looking at it… then paused, stunned.

“I’m only crossing one eye!”

“You must have hit a thousand in dexterity.”

Sure enough, the second level of [Curse Anathema] had come with another notification:

Dexterity exceeds 1,000 points. Second milestone reached. Congratulations!

“That’s cool, but I hope it’s useful for more than going cross-eyed,” grimaced Priam.

“Of course. In fact, it changes the balance between the hemispheres of your brain and their prerogatives. I… can’t say more?” The bird seemed puzzled. “Only Mother can… She must have just published a patch note on my oath. What bad luck!” He grunted. “Anyway, the second dexterity milestone is extremely sought after by both warriors and mages.”

It took Priam only a few seconds to understand why. First, he was now as skilled with his right hand as with his left. Better than ambidextrous, he could decouple them entirely. Drawing a circle with one hand while making a plus sign with the other was no longer a headache. Handy to double draw runes in the air or…

“Wait, if it affects my hemispheres… can I sleep like a dolphin?!”

His mentor raised a fiery brow. “If that brings you joy?”

“No, I mean: dolphins sleep with only one hemisphere at a time so they can keep swimming.”

“Oh.” The phoenix narrowed its eyes. “You think your oneiric mutation…” It cut itself off. “Let’s talk about this in Elysium.”

Still lying down, Priam shrugged, deep in thought. “Whatever…”

The phoenix glanced toward the Colosseum. “How are you feeling about the next fights?”

“Relatively confident. Against Cursed Clock, I was basically sandbagging. Honestly, I have a hard time believing the next wave will stop me, Prince-level threat or not. I'm tough.”

“Possible. Still, be careful not to slip into arrogance. The next waves are different.”

“Hm. You say that because you left an imprint here?”

His mentor took his time answering. When he finally did, it was so softly Priam almost missed it.

“I say that because this is where my original got rejected for the first time. Where he realized he wasn’t the chosen one he thought he was. It clipped his wings.” The bird looked at Priam. “Your little pond is about to turn into an ocean, and you may discover you are not as big a fish as you think. I don’t want that to break you.”

Priam smiled. “People who try Everest on their first hike fail. If there’s always a higher mountain, I’ll climb them one by one. And I’ll make sure to enjoy the view.”

“…Take too many blows to the head and lasting damage was inevitable. I think you should stop trying to be philosophical.”

“Fuck you.”

Sna drifted away before the phoenix could retort. Recognizing the end of the examination, Priam summoned his mist toga again.

“Well?”

“As you know, your Hecate’s New Moon is a partially sealed curse of Mythic nature.”

“Yeah, sure, I knew that.”

“…”

“…”

After a too long staring contest, Sna broke first.

“It’s a curse that isn’t targeting you, but using you as the container…”

Priam thought back to Charles’s fable. Hecate had been cursed for wanting to marry someone. Her soul shattered, and a fragment was now lodged in my left eye. Or a fragment of her Myth?

“…and every use simply lifts the seal a little more. You know the Jar of Evils?”

“Pandora’s Box?”

“If that’s how your people call it.” Sna shrugged. “Your eye is the same: activating your mutation cracks the lid open.”

“Except I can recall Hecate’s New Moon.”

“You could. With its last upgrade, that’s far from certain.” She hesitated. “There’s something else. Devouring a Transcendent curse caused a qualitative shift in Hecate’s New Moon. It has developed a… taste for stories.”

“Meaning what? It can devour Myths to grow?”

“Not Myths, but their manifestations: their images. Which isn’t exactly good news, because digestion consumes a great deal of spiritual energy… which comes directly from its source. Namely, you.” Sna’s reptilian eyes locked onto Priam’s cloudy ones. “In short: once unleashed, your curse will devour the Mythic images of your enemies until nothing remains of them… or of your soul.”

Terrifying. Yet Priam was smiling. The main thing he retained was that his ocular mutation could now evolve by devouring other curses.

*

The moment the timer hit zero, a white flash made Priam blink. Feeling a disturbance in his Domain before even opening his eyes, he rolled aside. Propelled by his kinetic skill, he dodged a pair of daggers and flipped back onto his feet. Squinting, he examined the boss of wave ninety.

A forest-green praying mantis faced him. Or rather, loomed over him, as the insect was easily the size of an SUV. Wings unfurled, it struck a threatening pose, raising two scythes that were just finishing regenerating. Priam hadn’t dodged daggers, but blades growing straight from an exoskeleton.

“Well, after Clock I didn’t think I’d run into a dumb monster,” he murmured, summoning a fireball into his palm.

“A dumb monster?” replied a feminine voice in perfect Knayan. “Speak for yourself. Your shell is soft.”

“It’s called skin, and it’s tougher than you think,” Priam shot back, then grimaced. “Sorry for the insult…”

[Heroic Identification]

[Phantom of Stryk-7 - Tier 0 - Prince - Mantis] - Scythe of Change.

“Stryk-7.”

“No offense taken,” she replied before leaping.

Her burst of speed caught Priam off guard. Stryk-7 was on him before he could vanish into his mist. [Kinetic Sovereignty] slid off the creature’s carapace, and with no better option, the Juggernaut raised his arms to defend himself. He grunted as two chitin blades sank into his flesh and a few millimeters into bone.

Lvl Up: [Shear Resistance] lvl 30…

ERROR. CONST SEALED

“Damn, you’re fast.”

“And you’re tough.”

Priam traced the sound to a vibratory rune at the base of her antennae. “So that’s how you talk.”

“Given that I lack vocal cords and your pheromone cocktail is extremely basic, one of us had to do something.”

“I… give off pheromones?”

“Your adrenal glands betray your desire to mate.”

“We’re stopping this conversation now,” Priam decided before turning into flames.

More precisely, into a massive explosion that blasted his opponent back. He tried to chase her down and cook her in her shell, but she unfolded her wings and escaped. Her acceleration was so obscene she seemed to teleport across the arena.

“That was hot! I guess you’re not a boss for nothing,” Stryk-7 commented, staring at him. With no eyelids and thousands of optical units protected by cuticles—the same material as the white base of a fingernail—her gaze was intense. Disturbing in a way reminiscent of the uncanny valley.

Priam raised a brow. “Wait, you think I’m a boss?”

“What else would you be?”

“A challenger.”

The mantis tilted her head. “I’m the challenger.”

Priam poured all his vivacity into analyzing the situation. As his mind accelerated, the world slipped into bullet time.

We both think we’re challengers, but unless the System is ready to break spacetime in half, only one of us is right. I remember making it here, but maybe she does too. Am I just a construct with fake memories? Damn, that would suck.

His ego wavered for a heartbeat, then hardened. Fuck it. Doubting won’t help. Construct or challenger, there’s a simple way to get the truth: win.

Priam straightened, determination lighting his eyes. Standing before him was most likely the phantom of a former challenger, a mantis who had defeated the previous boss and taken its place, raising the difficulty of the final waves.

At least, he needed to believe that. The other hypothesis was unacceptable.

“Can’t wait to see my phoenix mentor’s face when I tell him he’s not real. Wave ninety-five… wait for me.”

“What are you saying?”

“That I’ve got no time to waste here,” Priam smiled. Build-refinement time was over: now he was ready to give everything to win.

“You’re not strong enough to crush me,” said the insect.

“But I'm smart enough,” winked the Juggernaut.

His toga billowed before bursting. In seconds, the arena was swallowed by a thick fog that [Kinetic Sovereignty] cooled. 

Before the mantis could react, frost crept across her exoskeleton, threatening to freeze her joints. Letting out a furious stridulation, the insect leapt at Priam. She landed like a meteor on his last known location and twitched in frustration when the icy crater turned out empty.

For a full minute, Stryk-7 dashed faster than sound, searching for him in the dense fog… and found nothing. Her sprinting warmed her, fighting the cold and slowing the spread of frost. A beautiful display of life’s adaptability… doomed to fall before nature itself. After fifteen minutes, her stamina gave out. She folded in on herself to hibernate. That was when Priam unleashed the full polar storm.

The One Who Braved the Deluge channeled his Concept until the absolute zero version of that primal flood answered his call. Before long, the enemy’s exoskeleton was nothing but an icy prison in a cold tempest. 

After a while, two bare feet appeared. Stepping through the snow, they stopped before the mantis.

The insect trembled. Using a Skill or a Concept, she attempted to molt her way back into the fight with a second phase, but the frost held her fast. When a hand rested on her head, all the stolen heat surged back into her. A blast like a rocket launch blinded the boss a heartbeat before her brain boiled.

Thus perished the phantom of Stryk-7.

Achievement - Mythical: As a Tier 0, you have pushed your limits within the Colosseum.

Gladiator, continue to spill ichor, and the System will continue to reward you.

Message for Humanity and Sector Hope:

Priam Azura has triumphed over the 90th wave of the Colosseum (Tier 0).

The Seven Concepts congratulate you.

Potential +10 000. Colosseum Safety Token.

Stryk-7, phantom of Wave 90 for 4,999 years, has fallen by your hand.

Undefeated duration prior to termination: 0 years.

Continue your run, eliminate additional phantoms.

Progress permitted until Tier 1. Beyond this point, the user’s phantom will enforce record wave gatekeeping.

You will earn rewards based on how long your phantom stays undefeated/in position.

Retracting his hand as the mist thinned, Priam heard his stomach growl. After a second of hesitation, he tore off one of his fallen opponent’s legs.

“If your soul can hear me, I mean no disrespect. Truly, as a Frenchman, it’s basically my duty to taste roasted insects.”

The reward notification for wave 90 blinked before him. Priam would make his choice on a full stomach.

*

Seuz - Immortal Merchant, head of the Olympus consortium