Jennifer Moore
Stories
6
Chapters
1,982
Words
445.8 K
Comments
0
Reading
1 d, 13 h
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What were the advantages of getting recognised by the Voice of Worlds? What did one gain above others who hadn’t received such an honour? The criteria to attain this was something that could be described at another time as Skullius was a terrible case study. Chance played a major role with an overly special circumstance being the final ingredient to his receiving of this gift. When one was recognised by the Voice of Worlds, they would gain the ability to be informed of things that they would otherwise…
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Mana supply, check! Anxiety, check! Courage, nope! Greater hostility plus weak presence it is! Skullius unboldy sauntered towards the path with the weaker presence. After thinking carefully, he had considered that fighting a powerful enemy was never going to be a good idea. His experience with Azila never left his mind. Even though the Great Mane Mountain Ape was not hostile at first, even when it clearly saw that he was an undead, it still resolved to kill him for reasons unrelated to just being…
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“Did that bastard just ditch me?!” Denille barked as she sensed from the arrow that was lodged into Skullius that he was getting further and further away from her! The nerve! Her natural instinct was to follow and bash Skullius’ head in, but the battle instinct forged after years of combat and honing her skills immediately alarmed her of the danger that she was currently up against! One wrong move could lead to a disaster even though she had noted that this creature basically didn’t attack…
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A muscular figure walked towards the two with a large odachi-like sword that rested on its shoulders, being so long that its rusty blade could barely fit within the narrow corridor. It wore nothing on its upper torso, revealing a grey skin that looked decayed, worms and thick ooze pouring from several orifices that had opened up on its body. On its face was a old looking cloth that wrapped around it, making sure no detail of its face or head was shown to Denille or Skullius. Its feet produced no sound…
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An immaculate carving proudly stood before the five pairs of eyes of the group. An extremely muscular man with his arms outstretched and his hands forming fists that exuded a powerful presence even from the image. Wild hair that was spread out to the very top of the boundary of the gate as if blown by an untamed wind. At the front of his head, a solemn face with eyes that were shut, a button nose and ideal lips; all very detailed as they gave off the impression of a seasoned and calm warrior.…
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A Majestic Territory. A profound level of power that was open to all creatures as long as they met the required level of strength and a sufficiently strong core. The ability to create a separate realm that was advantageous for the user and extremely dangerous for the target; a Majestic Territory. For a Majestic Territory, the ranking for how strong it was wasn’t usually how powerful the boosts it gave to the user were, but how many unique lifeforms would be spawned from it. For instance, Azila’s…
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Skullius opened his eyes and saw the figure of four people above him, their hands outstretched towards him as they released bursts of mana into his body. ‘Ah… I was right…’ he thought. Two of them looked particularly unhappy but Skullius felt even more so despite escaping a tragic end once again. He couldn’t bring himself to be cheery when all that happened within the place that he had been taken to by Somanda kept brushing against his mind in an unsettling way. Something kept blaring against…
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(A/N: There’s quite a bit of dialogue at the end of the chapter but don’t skip it. It won’t extend to the next chap though) A talented and adventurous man once walked on the crust of Aigas. He was bold. Not afraid to reach out to many races and embracing their cultures as he learned. He fought powerful beasts and had his name included in many records of many cities as a hero, a legend, a teacher. His exploits were bed time stories for young children in multiple establishments, small or large,…
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Skullius couldn’t believe his eyes. Was this truly happening? Was this the end that was promised to him by the Doom Factor? Then why didn’t VOW say something? Maybe he would have taken more risks and… maybe not. That would have gotten him killed a lot sooner, and perhaps he’d end up here anyway. Or perhaps he would end up somewhere else entirely. A place of rest from his centuries upon centuries of untiresome work. But no. He was here, facing his summoner with a gloom that transcended the…
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Salt. Spice. And every meat that’s nice. These were the perfect ingredients to make a simple but filling meal for a couple of adventurers who had a long journey ahead of them. However, the peculiar Discount Human with no name messed it up by including something that turned the whole thing upside down. Atrocious luck! Irlen, Denille, Reon and Benzard had taken a single bite of the meat that had been roasted over a fire by Skullius and in the next moment, they had all felt their stomachs churn before…
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