Emily Anderson
Stories
7
Chapters
3,516
Words
2.4 M
Comments
0
Reading
8 d, 9 h
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There was one good thing about exterminating ectognamorphs compared to other races. If someone wanted to wipe out a faction of humans, one had to kill every single one to be successful. Failing to do so risked that the survivors could keep reproducing and reviving the faction, with there even being a chance a talented individual could be born and make the faction more powerful than ever. Such was not the case with ectognamorphs. Ectognamorphs needed a Queen to survive, and if all Queens died, so would the…-
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Jake liked loot. Who didn’t like loot? Wait, did getting a weapon from a craftsman even count as loot, as he technically didn’t loot it off anything? Jake wasn’t sure, but he kind of hoped it did, and if it didn’t, he just refused to care and still classified it as getting loot. Arnold escorted Jake back to the workshop and led him toward one of the walls that contained a large locked case. Jake could already see inside using his sphere and saw the weapon within, but he waited for Arnold to open…
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103 •
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The meeting room was silent for several seconds as Albaromoz stared at the spot where the Bloodline Patriarch had disappeared from. No, he had been teleported away. For a moment, the dragon had felt a divine presence before the teleportation, making so many questions appear in his head, but it did dispel one doubt. Albaromoz felt ashamed of even questioning the urgency of the Bloodline Patriarch’s issue. He had thought it was just one of the oldest tricks in the book that people used to get out of…
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103 •
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Jake and Draskil left Draskil’s residence soon after, with the Malefic Dragonkin making sure Jake once more walked through and saw his entire damn harem that Jake was pretty sure had grown by a few people in the short time they were in the chamber. The conversation with Helen had been short and matter-of-fact, with Jake wanting to finally set up a damn meeting. He honestly hadn’t cared where it was, so he didn’t question when Helen proposed meeting at one of the local headquarters of the Emberflight…
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103 •
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Jake tossed the token up and down as he looked at the beautiful carving of a red dragon on it. It was clearly made of high-tier metal, produced as a show-off piece for the Emberflight to display how wealthy and powerful they were. Which was just the problem. They were large and powerful. Annoyingly so. Could Jake just use the token, contact Helen, make her meet him, and force her to take him to some superior who could make everyone fuck off? Potentially, but in order to do that, Jake would have to show…
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103 •
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Jake stared at the elf for several seconds as his brain tried to process what she had just said. “Mistress like the others.” When the hell had he gotten any mistresses!? Why would she even think he had any to begin with? Few questions truly stumped him, but this one just didn’t make any sense, as it was rooted in non-existent reasoning. He hadn’t even adequately processed the question as he just muttered out: “I have mistresses?” Now it was Meira’s turn to look confused back at him. She…
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103 •
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Two weeks after Jake had returned to the Order, he was hard at work with the many cores he still had in storage. Meira had continued to buy new cores to keep the ritual going during his absence and had quite a stock built up to complement all those Jake had also dropped off. Working on the cores was slow progress as Jake tried to figure out how to infuse this energy he had decided to call Primal Energy. Could he call it Origin Energy? Yes, perhaps, but he felt like it wouldn’t be as accurate. From the…
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103 •
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Jake had a lot to think about. Annoying things to think about. He knew he wasn’t the most moral of people, considering his rather liberal approach to killing. He did not hesitate when he went out into the world and hunted down sapient C-grade beasts simply for experience points, and he had killed plenty of other humans during his Path so far. Some were more deserving than others, with quite a few just being at the wrong place at the wrong time or having chosen to trust someone they really shouldn’t…
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103 •
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Setting up a ritual circle was a bit like making a painting, but in order to make the painting, you had to program every stroke using some illogical programming language that also, for some bloody reason, had to follow weird rules reminiscent of feng shui. Concepts had to play properly together, which could be likened to mixing colors to get the optimal palette. Some colors did not mesh well together, and if all colors mixed haphazardly, you would get a muddy brown. AKA, you would get shit. All of this…
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103 •
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In the sky, there had once been a cloud island. It had been quite large, too, with a few elementals spawning here and there. Using past tense was very important in this case, as now there was no island to be seen anywhere. It turned out that clouds and giant tornadoes did not mix well. Or, well, it could be said they mixed really well, considering how the entire cloud island had been swept up, and Sylphie tried to use all the cloud mana to amplify her own attack. It hadn’t worked, but it was a nice…
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