>>6142153

Betty- or more accurately, whatever errant piece of your soul is puppeting her body, places a warm hand on your cheek, delicately holding it as she continues her speech: “I’m really sorry things had to be this way.”

“W-what way?- and you still haven’t told me who, or even WHAT you are,” you spit back, recoiling from her touch and stepping away from the maid.
The melancholy in her eyes persists, the makings of tears forming at their edges, “I want to help you. And not just superficially, I want to bring you back, I guess. Or out. Doesn’t really matter which.”

“Great. So, you’re gonna help me find some way home?”

She shakes her head, “I want you to be better. Better than Atë. Otherwise..” she chokes on her words, her sentence trailing off as its end as she takes a moment to let out a shaky breath and steel her resolve, “Otherwise I’m going to have to keep you here.”

“Are you insane!” You shout, closing the distance between you and the so-called ghost again, “Are you trying to get us both killed!”

“If that’s what it takes.” She answers, “Besides, I’ve been dead for a long time.”

“You crazy bitch.” You begin to pace around the room, the anxiety beginning to claw at your chest, a cavernous void only growing wider and wider as you continue to reflect on the situation- if a piece of your impetus big enough to manifest itself like this is trying to keep you trapped here, you might never be able to get home.

“This really isn’t the time for this.” You complain, staring daggers into Betty’s back.

“This is the first, and, well, probably only time I’ll ever have for this.” She answers without turning to face you. You suppose she knows where you are, regardless.

>Try to crush the Ghost
>Ignore the Ghost and wait
>Introspect
>Try to negotiate
>Write-in

>>6142154
>Try to crush the Ghost
You want to die so bad then do it alone. I’ll even help you along.

>>6142154
>Introspect
Call me curious, but I thought we'd unearthed all our traumas

>>6142154
>Write-in
Wake up the 'sleeping' Betty with a kiss.

If you make out with a part of yourself which has taken over Betty's body is it incest? Very Olympian.

>>6142154
>>Introspect
my mind goes to Jane. A piece of soul that was grafted onto ours, and now that the system is not here it doesn't suppress the individuality of those souls anymore, or something like that.
but desu, we might just assume it's a part of our own soul, and not some other thing, like a god of this white world. there's a chance we meet some.

anyway, can we stop being rude to unknown things we're meeting? aren't we supposed to be a master manipulator now?

we also still need to figure out what our protag wants. we want to play videogames and make music. make and enjoy art. to be our own god, we eventually have to leave the moniker Atë behind. What we are doesn't map onto a long dead religion, we're more than that

>>6142154
>Try to crush the Ghost

>>6142429
It's definitely possible that our desire to spare Jane protected some piece of her from total absorption and annihilation.

I suspect that attempting to crush is going to fail, if it were weak enough for that I think we wouldn't be having this problem.

>>6142154
>Introspect

>>6142154
>Introspect

>>6142154
>Introspect

>>6142154
>Introspect

>>6142154
>Ignore the Ghost and wait

Wow, lots of votes

6 for introspect (some not mentioned directly to dodge the spamblock)
>>6142245
>>6142429

2 to crush
>>6142176
>>6142436

And 1 write-in
>>6142265

>Introspect

You scoff at the petulant maid, closing your eyes to enter your soulscape.

As you open your <Eyes> the crisis is obvious. Red water defies gravity, trickling upwards in streams, like droplets running down the rim of an overfilled cup. The water evaporates into steam as it reaches towards the dimming sunset sky, crimson clouds fizzling into dust as the hostile reality of this place annihilates them- annihilates you.

The sea is turbid, writhing like a swarm of insects as wretched screams gurgle up from the surface. Though pulverized, the souls are awake. Fortunately, none of them are whole enough, nor concentrated enough in its <Impetus> to break the surface tension and emerge from the chaotic sanguine waters.

None, of course, but one.

Shimmering in the lambent light of the setting sun, refracting its rays against its golden hide and seeming almost incandescent as it looks down on you from its perch atop the ocean itself, stands a massive golden stag- no, not a stag.

“Jane.” You say, a complicated expression on your face as you see her again for the first time since her passing.

“Hello, .” She replies, her melancholy voice carrying across your world without her mouth ever even opening, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

"T-this is impossible." Your voice quivers as you recoil backwards at the sight of her. You expected her, somewhat, but the shock still overwhelms you.

"Maybe." She laughs. Fuck, you remember her laugh.

>”How are you here?”
>”Why aren’t you upset with me?”
>”You can’t be real.”
>Attack her
>Leave
>Write-in

>>6142737
>"It was fun killing you, but if I knew you would be this much of a pain in the ass I would have let you live."

>>6142737

> So...mario kart?

Joking! Joking!

>"This isn't one of those turn me from evil sort of things is it? Because Jane, I'm bad. It's terminal. It's deep, deep, deep to the core. Grab a shovel, we'll say hi to Atë.

>>6142737
>"I know when I'm being baited, but sure, I'll bite. How did you keep your individuality in there?"
>”Why aren’t you upset with me?”
Still thinking QM doesn't want us to go full evil, with a side dish of called it

>>6142737
>”Why aren’t you upset with me?”
>Write-in
"Whats it like being inside me?"

>>6142764
>>6142766
>>6143020
>>6143065

>”Why aren’t you upset with me?”


“I KILLED you. Even if it didn’t stick.. why aren’t you more vengeful? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You saved me,” she answers, “From being shredded into nothing by the System.”

“..what?”

“I’ve seen enough of you now to know,” she elaborates, “that before you wanted to kill me, you wanted to spare me.”

Your eyes widen, and you release a shaky gasp. You feel your knees weaken beneath you as you recall that night in the woods. You couldn’t bring yourself to- no, that’s selling it short- you CHOSE not to hurt her. Nausea overtakes you for a moment, but a comforting hand on your shoulder brings you back to yourself.

”It’s true.” you- or you suppose Atë- says, ”You had a moment of weakness. You were conflicted. However, you have to ask yourself- how many times did the powers you took from her save your life? <Preservation Instinct> and <Supernatural Speed> have been your lifeline. You would have been burnt to a crisp or beaten into a red paste without doing what you did.”

“And now she’s trying to kill me.” You add.

“That’s right. She doesn’t seem upset, and maybe she isn’t, but that doesn’t change the reality of the situation. She needs to die.”

Without a hint of fear, the hind stares you directly in the eye. Another wrench of emotion assaults you as you recall the fairy tale in the snow-covered woods- a past that wasn’t. You’re a little girl again, fingers shivering with cold and terror gripping a frigid knife. Red water, or what might be blood, trickles down from the deer’s chest and mixes with the ocean beneath her hooves.

>>6143345

“I haven’t changed my mind.” She states, “You and I.. are kindred souls, I think. Of all the people you hurt, all of those lives, you never forgot mine. All this time, knowingly or not, you’ve protected me.”

She approaches you. You limply reach an arm out, placing a hand on her neck just as you did in the little forest clearing on the outskirts of town all those months ago. You can’t bring yourself to crush her throat.

“I still love you. Even though you lied about your name, and your face, and your motives, and, well, everything else there was to lie about, you couldn’t have made me feel like that with a trick. I think- no, I know that we had something important. Maybe it wasn't in the same way that you said you did, but you cared about me. Watching- making- me do what I did, it hurt you too. That’s what I think, anyway.”

“You’re still stupid.” You can only muster an insult.

“Always.” Though she doesn’t have a human face, you can hear the smile in her voice. You feel your flesh begin to melt away like a fresh coat of paint in the rain, inky black muck seeping off of your body and mixing into the sand as your mind goes blank. Once again, you fight the urge to throw up.

”We can’t afford to negotiate,” Atë says, a surprising degree of genuine understanding evident in her tone, ”We need to finish the job.”

"I know it feels good to hurt people. To get back at the world. Even I.." her voice trails off, "Well, um, I've thought about it. A lot. But you have to know that it isn't helping you. Every time, it just makes the hole in your chest bigger."

You expect Yourself to intervene, but she remains silent.

>Harden your heart and do what you must
>Decide later
>Write-in

>>6143346
>Harden your heart and do what you must
You should have stayed hidden

>>6143346

> What the hell is supposed to help then!? Because I've been mask after mask after mask and none of them help!

>>6143346
>>6143545
+1
>when you're cycling through mask like I do, it's because you're afraid of what gets revealed when they drop. Will it be this thing? *point at Ate*

>>6143346
>>Write-in
I got an idea. If we want to become a god, "creating life" might be on the todo list.
>Why waste a perfectly good soul that can inhabit our first creation of life?
>This is totally not because we want to save her somehow, nope

>>6143720
Ex Nhilo is probably a bit beyond us, but the classic molded from clay bit probably isn't

>>6143346
>>Harden your heart and do what you must

>>6143460
>>6143545
>>6143561
>>6143720
>>6143804

You tighten your grip around the deer’s neck. Her breathing becomes rugged but, despite the discomfort, Jane never pulls back or allows discomposure to enter her elegant stance. Like a mother waiting for her child to stop a tantrum, she merely allows you to process on your own.

You have to do it.

You have to kill her.

Oily black muck seeps out of your eye sockets, blurring your vision with dark grime, as more and more of you begins to melt away.

”I need to kill you.” You and the goddess speak in unison, ”You need to die.”

Silently, patiently she waits.

“FUCK!” You let her go, slamming your fist into your chest instead. It sinks into it like your entire body was made of slime, “WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO THEN!?”

Jane bends her neck, meeting your gaze directly at an even level instead of looking down on you. Your face feels rigid like porcelain resting atop a surface of inky detritus. Compulsively, you try to pull it off, but no matter the effort, your face, the mask, it won’t budge an inch.

“You know, you said we should go to the beach sometime,” A sentimentality, a reminiscence of better times, leaks from her voice as she turns to look out over the ocean, “You said it was the second most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. Ha, I can still feel how red I got.”

Your memory of your time with Jane is hazy. You can’t recall the specifics. You see her shift back into herself, wearing the very same outfit she did on her last day.

“You can decide on, y'know, my ultimate fate later." She chuckles as she imitates the severe voice of a cartoon supervillain, mocking the very real possibility of her death. "For now, let’s build a sand castle.”

“Are you serious?” You scoff, barely able to maintain a human shape as more and more of you leaks out, “A fucking sand castle?”

“Ha, stupid, right?” She laughs, sauntering over to your melting body and sitting down next to you, “But it sounds fun, right?”

She reaches into the sand, seemingly manifesting the handle of a pail out of nothing. As if it were natural, she pulls out the whole thing, a plastic bucket like the ones you and your friends used at the beach when you were little.

“This one’s for you.” She flashes a genuine grin with a hint of mischief as she hands the yellow bucket over to you. Inside is a small metal trowel, perfect for scooping and shaping sand. “I have dibs on the pink one.”

>”Why not?”
>”I want the pink one.”
>”This is ridiculous.” (Leave for now)
>Write-in

>>6143840
>”Why not?”
Might as well see where this is going.

>>6143840
>”Why not?

>>6143840
>”Why not?”
Wow so happy we're building an imaginary sandcastle as reality itself consumes us.

>>6143859
>>6143865
>>6143872

>”Why not?”

You grab the bucket, clumsily using it to scoop up sand for a parapet. For some reason, the normally anomalous texture of the sand becomes normal as you dig at it with the pail.

Once you fill it, you turn it over. However, the sand collapses into an unshapely mound instead of the cylinder you wanted. Jane smugly creates a perfect tower right next to your failed one. “You gotta pack the sand better.” She instructs, slowly carving little windows into the sides of the bucket mold tower.

You grumble, begrudgingly following her instructions as you complain.

“This is a complete waste of time. I’m dying as we speak and I’m making imaginary sand castles.”

She shakes her head. “Not imaginary. Where do you think we are?”

“My soulscape.”

“That’s right.” She smiles gently as she uses the edge of her shovel to carve stone brick textures into the sides of her castle, “In other words, everything here is a part of you.”

“What’s your point?”

“Isn’t this place empty? It’s pretty lonely if you ask me.”

“I told you to tell me your point.”

She sighs, “It’s hard to explain. You, um, asked me what you should do with your life, right? Instead of just lashing out at the world or whatever.”

Having made five reasonable towers, you begin sculpting sturdy walls out of the wet beach sand, “What does this have to do with that?”

She sticks a small toothpick flag into her tallest parapet, “You didn’t choose anything about this place.” She begins, “It just kinda, happened to be you, y’know? But this time, look-” she gestures to your lumpy, vaguely evil-fortress shaped pile of sand, “-you made that! You chose to make that sand castle how it is!”

“Well, I’d like it to look nicer,”

“Then you have to work at it, y’know?”

You scowl, “Just tell me what you mean.”

>>6143918

“Look, I’m not trying to talk in riddles, I’m really not. I just.. don’t really know how to describe it. When people say ‘be yourself’, they kinda assume an intrinsic ‘you-ness’ that I don’t think really exists.”

You use your arm to straighten out the north wall of your castle, “And?”

“Well, what do you think of when you hear ‘you’?”

“Atë..., I guess.”

“And who is that?”

“Ruin incarnate.”

“Awful critical, isn’t that?”

“It’s just who I am.”

“That’s exactly my point! There is no ‘who I am’. There’s just.. you.”

You sigh, “I don’t get it.”

“Uh, hmm, Ok. Imagine a person who drank coffee every day for ten years. When they wake up in the morning and brew themselves a cup, is it because making coffee is an intrinsic part of their soul?”

“No.”

“Exactly. They do it because they like the drink, or because they need the caffeine, or whatever other reason they have.”

You flop back onto the beach, noticing your entire body is back to normal.

“Did you like hurting people?”

“Sometimes.”

“Did you like hurting me?”

You can’t bring yourself to answer.

“I’m running low on focus.” She says, her body becoming translucent as she disappears into the saffron glow of the sun, “Let’s chat again soon, ok?”

Before you can say another word, she vanishes. The sand returns to its glassy rigidity, the sandcastles immortalized against the tides.”

>Introspect
>Practice an <Art>
>Wait until the prince gets back
>Look around the palace
>Write-in

>>6143919
>Look around the palace
God I wanna kill her so bad
Mince her soul up like ground beef so she can't bother us ever again

>>6143919
>Practice an <Art>
Better meditate on Soul Publisher a bit if it's one of our primary tools here. Maybe try to smooth out some of this writhing sea of damned souls.

>>6143941
Her screams would be sweet I admit, but we do so very badly need a therapist if we're ever going to get our Impetous functional.

And sooner or later someone is going to attack us directly in the soulscape, probably Prometheus. These sand castles need to become entrenched bunkers, and we have to get through our trauma to do that.

>>6143966
Weren't we waiting on the prince to bring back practice dummies for the Soul Publisher practice?

>These sand castles need to become entrenched bunkers, and we have to get through our trauma to do that.
Do they though?
How does one attack a beach, or the ocean? We can just pull them under and drown them within ourselves.

>>6143968
The problem isn't attacking the beach, it's our exposed ass on it. We don't have control over our soulscape, so we can't effectively defend ourselves with it.

>>6143983
Clearly the solution is to hide underwater
I suppose I could compromise with a fortress on the ocean floor

>>6143919
>Introspect
reminded me of the "the only thing you can't seem to comprehend is that it is your mind within your control"

>>6143919
>Look around the palace

>>6143919
>Practice an <Art>
Soul Publisher

>>6143966
>>6143968
>fortifying our soulscape
I think if we have our mind under control, like Pallas, we can make the soulscape take any form we want instantaneously.
Literally setting up physical fortifications in our soul is a little too on the nose about metaphors

>>6144230
Yeah, I'm hoping Atë's desolate beach eventually can convert to a pleasant tropical island beach instead.

>>6143941
>>6143966
>>6144021
>>6144136
>>6144230

>Practice <Ordinance of Atë>
>Explore the palace

Pressed for time and tired of waiting, you decide to explore the palace on your own. Shaping the Gown to resemble the outfit of the maid standing limply in front of you, you alter your appearance to shed all evidence of your modern origins. You frown at the deep blonde color of your hair, opting to change it to brown instead.

Though you seem natural now, you would rather not have to deal with being interrogated. You forcibly activate <Guerilla Tactics> and, though its output is a shell of its former might, it should be sufficient to blend into the background in tandem with your disguise.

You exit the cellar, making note of the illusory wall which obscures the entrance. You put your hand on it, feeling the stone, but with the awareness that it isn’t there, you find yourself able to pass effortlessly through the space. You try to analyze the spell with your <Eyes>, but the intricately woven divinity is complicated even to you, incomparably convoluted compared to <Gifts> or <Authorities>. So this, you think to yourself, is the divine essence of magic.

Taking stock of the area, you seem to be underground as anticipated, a cool stone hallway at the entrance of which lies a sturdy spiral staircase. There are other rooms, one of which is barred off with a steel gate, another obscured by an old oak door. At the end of the hallway lies what appears to be a heavily guarded vault, two armored knights standing between the door and you (as opposed to only one guarding what you presume to be the entrance to the palace dungeons). You decide to enter the wooden door first, finding a wine cellar filled wall to wall with barrels of various spirits. You would consider partaking if not for the particulars of the situation, but this room seems useless to you.

Regardless of the circumstances, your primary problem is being conspicuous. You can essentially do anything ‘normal’ without being questioned, but the moment you act in a way whatever shape you bear wouldn’t, the chances that you might be noticed skyrocket.

Then again, there’s no need to do anything untoward: you have an abundance of test subjects right here- the guards. All you need to do is get a hand on their armor and it should be relatively simple to plant an <Ordinance>. Though, if it’s more difficult than you expect, there might be a problem.

>Try <Ordinance of Atë> on a guard
>Explore the rest of the palace
>Sneak out into the capitol
>Write-in

>>6144400
>Explore the rest of the palace
Somewhere is a servant's quarters, or a kitchen.

>>6144400
>Explore the rest of the palace
Find someone more isolated
Sorry prince, took too long

>>6144483
Some poor bastard is going to get the job of being our minder at some point and it is not going to go well for them.

>>6144400
>>Explore the rest of the palace

>>6144400
>Explore the rest of the palace
a thought occurs. why would we help the prince at all? as soon as we know we can use our powers properly here, we should ask others to teach us their type of magic. (after we burned through the people he brought us)

>>6144782
Probably because he's the only sorcerer, and magic might not have enough potential to get us home.

>>6145016
>he's the only sorcerer
we don't know that.
I'm just saying we shouldn't feel obligated to stick with him

>inb4 we have to merge with him to be able to survive off this dimensions divinity and we spend some millennia try to breach back into our own dimension, wait a minute...

>>6145252
I feel no obligation to him beyond him being our current best lead to escape

>>6144422
>>6144483
>>6144698
>>6144782

>Explore the rest of the palace

You consider experimenting on one of these guards, but you reason that it’ll be easier for you to snare a cook, maid, or some other less dangerous employee of the crown than someone whose purpose it is to prevent things like what you’re about to do.

You walk forward, keeping your eyes low (as you presume to be custom here just as it was back when your world was feudal) but keeping your stride confident and firm as you climb the stairs and begin to traverse the unfamiliar halls of the castle. Since your authorities are weakened so much, you have no choice but to rely on psychology: generally, people tend to notice very little, far less than one might think. The human brain is impressive, but its computational capacity is limited and its focus even moreso.

So, even if you have no idea what to do or where to go, so long as you have the confidence to look like you belong, you will never trigger enough of the subconscious alarms for suspicion- or perhaps more so ‘wrongness’- in the unsuspecting minds of the busy little people of the world.

The castle above is carved seemingly from the same stone, but has a much warmer atmosphere, both in the figurative and literal sense. Wooden paneling lies beneath your feet instead of the cold stone beneath, and the walls are adorned with decorative tapestries, paintings, and intricately crafted lanterns in place of wrought iron torch-holders.

You find a maid as you walk, her steps burdened by the fatigue of a long day at work. It seems to be rather late, as the lamps are dim and the oil within runs low. Seizing a perfect opportunity, you subtly begin to follow the older woman, subtly imitating her stature and fatigue.

>>6145338

As you proceed, you <See> an anomaly through the walls, around an upcoming corner. The servant in front of you stops, bowing low as the divinity signature approaches. You follow suit, copying her show of humility while observing with your <Eyes> instead.

The figure before you, a woman with a striking resemblance to the second prince- sharp ice-blue eyes, a noble, arrogant gaze (though not as much so, you think to yourself, as the prince himself might if he weren’t so stricken with terror), and a head of silvery hair which, disregarding defects, would be unseen as a natural color in your reality. What struck you, though, rather than something different from your world, was something similar:

Her divinity pool is almost 100. If the prince’s was double the average (and based on those you’ve crossed he appears to have been telling the truth) that would make this woman 6 times stronger than the people of this world ought to be. You can see that her soul alone is enough to cause an instinctual feeling of intimidation in those she comes across.

Your eyes narrow- though the mana in Malgharians (and presumably all mortals from the White World)- is lesser than that of Earthlings, their sensitivity seems to be much, much higher. It is no wonder, then, that enough of them were able to independently develop <Arts> for sorcerers to be known and feared by all.

“Greetings to Her Majesty the First Princess,” the maid cries, “Jewel of Malghar, Anointed by the Light of the Moon!”

What a needlessly tedious introduction, you think to yourself, suppressing a scoff at the trivialities of nobility. You repeat the greeting, lowering your head slightly to make up for the poor etiquette of being late.

“You may raise your heads,” The princess declares in an even tone. You do so, keeping your gaze at her feet. Observing her body, you find that, either unconsciously or through some sort of sorcery, she’s spread divinity to her entire body, strengthening it in a similar (though more subtle) way than the System might. Still, the limit of quantity makes the extent unimpressive.

You shake your head, clearing your mind of unnecessary thoughts- what matters is that you have confirmation- this is the first princess, your target.

>Stick to the plan and allow her to leave
>Tail her back to her room
>Kill her where she stands
>Reveal yourself and offer a deal
>Write-in

>>6145339
>>Kill her where she stands

>>6145339
God, I really want to just do a soul knowledge rip on her, but fucking hell it would sting. We'd lose a lot of stability. Still....

We want her knowledge, so killing her seems ill advised. I'd like to get Dominion ironed out before we go for anything bold though.

>Stick to the plan and allow her to leave

>>6145435
A thought occurs, suddenly and sharply. Did we learn anything from the King within the Uncrowned we could use here? Could we use that experience to manipulate the princess? Play the "I come from a terrible reality where your brother has become a monster, pray aid me in defying such a fate?" Regardless I'd like to sharpen our Art before putting ourselves out there but it feels like that experience should be an advantage of some sort here.

>>6145339
>Kill her where she stands

>>6145339
>Tail her back to her room
Why kill her here when we could use her as a test dummy?

>>6145339
>>Stick to the plan and allow her to leave
seems like she will be more useful than the prince

>>6145339
>Tail her back to her room

>>6145339
>Kill her where she stands

So, I'm in a bit of a complicated position here- the most popular option is

>Kill her where she stands

But there seems to be a lot of overlap in the intentions of players who selected:

>Tail her back to her room
and
>Kill her where she stands

So, especially considering the influx of one post ids, we'll do a recast of the vote:

>Kill her where she stands (specify between Cautious, Normal, Reckless, and Desperate)
>Don't pick a fight just yet

In the case of a tie, attacking the princess will be selected by default, as it did win the previous vote.

>>6146256
>>Don't pick a fight just yet

>>6146256
>Don't pick a fight just yet

>>6146256
>Don't pick a fight just yet

Atë: I never know what I want.
Us: Yeah...sorry about that.

>>6146256
>>Kill her where she stands
Reckless

>>6146278
>>6146282
>>6146344
>>6146594

>Don't pick a fight just yet

You consider fighting her here and now, but you decide that it’s probably not smart to get into a combat situation before knowing how the magic of this world works. If you recall, Kieldrich was completely incapable of magic but still considered to be a formidable combatant- the fact that you don’t understand the principle behind even that, let alone the new and unfamiliar Magic of the Gods completely prohibits you from knowing what comes next.

It hurts to bow your head, but you keep it lowered until the princess leaves, her and a few maidservants continuing across their route as the woman in front of you breathes a sigh of relief.

Following the older maid back to her quarters, you find that you lucked out- the room (a slightly shabby but still rather livable quarters replete with beds, tables, and chairs) is almost completely devoid of all other people. In other words, it’s perfect for what you’re about to do next.

You extend your <Fetters> from your fingertips, the unsuspecting servant completely helpless as you bind her in crimson chains. She struggles briefly at first, but her weak, paltry soul is powerless against the might of your Art. Her resistance ends as quickly as it started, the woman falling to her knees as you loom over her.

You sigh- this is going to be the first time you’ve used the new version of this technique. Red light thrums at your fingertips as you close your eyes, visualizing the soul of the maid instead of her physical form. It’s a little difficult to conceptualize.

The soul is not constrained by conventional rules of size like mass might be. Your Soulscape was the same size at 200 divinity as it was at 2,000. To put it another way, your <Visualization> of bigger and smaller souls was in the way of your previous attempt at manipulation. Though, this much was kind of inevitable, since the <Fetters> were always deeply rooted in physicality.

You see it before you, not the metaphor-ridden world of the soulscape, but rather the amorphous, unphysical essence of the soul. It really is so very fragile. You can feel the whispers and self-condemnations, a cacophony of contradictory desires which constitutes Complex Impetus. You could say that, as much as it’s like a spider’s web, the soul is like a conversation: each beat is determined by the last, the subjects and goals, arguments and counter arguments, beliefs and knowledge- all of these things are woven into what comes after and before.

The light in your fingertips crawls up your veins, riding the blood vessels up your arm and into your neck, sanguine divinity seeping out of your throat and onto your tongue. All you need to do is add a single whisper.

>Attempt something trivial
>Attempt to change her perception of reality
>Attempt to change her beliefs
>Attempt to change her values
>Attempt to fully subjugate her
>Write-in

>>6147078
>>Attempt to implant the believe that you are longtime friends into her

>>6147078
>>Attempt something trivial

>>6147089
Support. Set her up as a future tool.

>>6147078
>>6147089
Backing
I guess it would fall under beliefs?

>>6147219
>I guess it would fall under beliefs?
yeah, I used the wrong "believe"

>>6147089
that was me, no idea why I had a new IP then and now again too

>>6147078
>>Attempt to fully subjugate her

>>6147078
>Attempt something trivial
start small

>>6147089
>>6147176
>>6147199
>>6147219
>>6147299
>>6147306

>Attempt to implant the belief that you are longtime friends into her

All it takes is a single phrase, or even a single word, to completely change a conversation.

You concentrate your <Vision>, using it to see the full chain of causality responsible for this woman’s current state- her desires, beliefs, values, everything. You split the task with your soul, and, as you did when you glimpsed infinity, you create smaller and smaller divisions of scanning her entire being until the task is complete. The theoretical Supertask, only possible thanks to the lack of quantization in the realm of the soul.

You click your tongue- this is taking too long to be practical. You’ll need to work on refining it later.

Regardless, after the processing is complete, it’s actually a rather simple matter to locate the proper locus point for where the <Ordinance> you want to place will go. Generally, your biggest issue would be a Total Collapse- that is, just as pulling a tablecloth off might case the contents on the surface to tumble and break, fiddling with a part of someone’s soul threatens to shatter everything above it, causing a chain reaction that could lead to a person going catatonic. Just like Betty did.

Still, this task is simple- a tiny little addition, a quick insertion. Delicately, you flow power through your mouth as you speak without sound, your words resonating deep within the maid’s soul:

”The maid Rosa is your lifelong friend. She’s new, so she may need help or explanations on certain matters you would assume to be common knowledge. This is unusual but not suspicious.”

You carefully craft a fib that fits with her existing expectations, and, by inserting an opinion in advance, you shield your <Ordinance> using human confirmation bias.

The human mind is a malleable thing- it bends and shapes the true inputs it receives to fall in line with its perceptions of reality, often even intentionally overwriting what is apparently factual when it contradicts the mechanisms it built to maintain the fragile construction of ‘how things are’. In other words, people are hardwired to be susceptible to this kind of manipulation.

“Rosa,” the maid says warmly, her eyes still glazed over from the euphoria of your fetters, “It’s delightful to see you again! You should have come to see me sooner!”

You can’t suppress your triumphant grin- it worked.

>>6147342

>Ordinance of Atë (Incomplete) (Effective Level: 7->8):
Allows you to plant an impulse, belief, or idea within the soul of a target. The strength and immediacy of the impact is related to the relative quantities of divinity between yourself and the victim, as well as how closely related the command or alteration is to some <Impetus> already occupying the target. Can be resisted with sufficient will or difference in soul capacity. Requires either physical contact or an overlap of souls.

“I’ve been busy, Myria,” you say, having snatched some key details from her soul after wiping most of the information in it to keep your brain from exploding after you terminated the Supertask, “But I’m happy to see you as well.”

You release the <Fetters>, and the maid doubles over with fatigue, quickly losing consciousness. You place her in a chair, posing her to make her look like she passed out while sitting.

>Lurk here and wait for more maids to experiment on
>Return to the secret room for now
>Explore more of the castle
>Leave the castle
>Write-in

>>6147343
>Explore more of the castle
I wonder if there's a library somewhere around? A fat stack of "inter dimensional portals for dummies" books is probably asking too much though.
...you don't suppose the prince got cold feet and ran for it do you? Or is tattling on us as we speak?

>>6147343
>Return to the secret room for now

>>6147362
we're not exactly guilty of any crime, the one maid we offed by accident.

>>6147343
>>Return to the secret room for now
I'm not sure what it all means, but I think we can't regenerate our divinity pool over time right now, which might be more of a problem than the divinity here poisoning us.

>>6147343
>Return to the secret room for now

>>6147343
>Explore more of the castle
Total prince panic

>>6147582
Pretty sure if I saw a monster with Atë's <Figure> I'd assume the worst. I think there's a nonzero chance he could betray us. We should at least keep it in mind.

>>6147791
Skyrim bandit logic: you see that guy who slayed that dragon and ate it's soul? let's mug him!

>>6147819
fucking IP again

>>6147819
He sure as hell isn't going to be on the front lines when he does it. I'd guess he'd round up every spellcaster he can find, along with mundane soldiers.

>>6147343
I would roam the castle more, but don't want to make a tie
>>Return to the secret room for now

>>6147362
>>6147582
>>6147847
we probably shouldn't have told him this universes divinity is poison to us.

>>6147867
Could be considered an incentive for good behavior on our part, since we can't stay and take over.

How you holding up there QM?

>>6149418
Sorry for the absence, been very busy with irl stuff lately.

>>6147362
>>6147582
>>6147675
>>6147762
>>6147788
>>6147867

>Return to the secret room for now

You decide not to press your luck, leaving Myria to her slumber as you slink through the halls, maintaining your guise as a maid with even greater accuracy thanks to the bare minimums of customs and layout of the castle that you saved from her consciousness while you were tampering with it. You make your way back to the secret chamber, slipping into it without alerting any potential observers. Betty remains standing exactly where you left her, her body functioning as normal despite being completely lacking in any will of her own.

You close your eyes, entering a state of absolute energy minimization, only remaining conscious enough to observe your surroundings as you slip into a state somewhere between meditation and sleep.

~

A few more hours pass before you sense an approaching presence. You open your eyes, but, despite feeling the Prince’s energy before you, you aren’t able to see anything.

“That’s a neat trick,” You say, clapping your hands together in a mocking spurt of applause as he drops the <Art>, rendering himself completely visible again. A crooked smile tugs at your lips- he’d probably insist to the contrary if you asked, but you’re almost certain that he was gauging whether or not he could hide from your eyes by making himself invisible.

The Prince bears with him two people, both bound in heavy iron shackles that you can sense a faint glow of divinity from. The magic of this world is complicated for you to parse, but it seems to be scattering the <Impetus> of those trapped, making them docile and suggestible in a similar way (though not nearly to the same degree) as a soulless body like Betty. The first prisoner is a large man, probably weighing twice as much as your current body and towering over both you and the prince. The other is a woman with a notable soul size, comparable to the prince himself. You also notice pointed ears[/b] poking out from her dull blonde hair.

You can’t suppress a chuckle- an actual, real life elf.

“As promised, your eminence, I have procured some test subjects. The man has particularly strong will. The woman is a Child of the Wind, and as such is gifted with great mana reserves. I hope they serve you well.”

>>6149828

“This will do for now- though if you want me to take on someone as potent as your sister I’ll need more test subjects.”

His eyes widen in shock, “How did you know-”

You give your best enigmatic grin, recalling how your face felt when you were hiding the nut flush in poker all those weeks ago, “I know lots of things, princeling.” Crimson light crackles at the edges of your irises, drowning out the Prince’s reflection in your current face’s dark brown eyes.

“You must keep up your end of the bargain, your eminence.” He abruptly states, the signs of guilt creeping up from beneath his tone. Your eyes narrow- he’s probably sold out way more than this paltry few in his backroom deals, but the prince had never had to get his hands so dirty. Never had to look his sins dead in the eye.

“You’re pathetic.” You blurt out. Despite himself, his face wrenches in indignation at your words, “But a deal’s a deal.”

“..you shall have more subjects.”

He pauses for a second, shaking his head before turning to leave the chamber.

>Experiment on the man
>Experiment on the woman
>Write-in

>>6149829
>Before he leaves, ask him to bring you a musical instrument
>Talk to them normally once the prince leaves

>>6149829
>Experiment on the man

>>6149829
>Experiment on the man
We’ve already dealt with high divinity pools, let’s see how strong willpower affects things

>>6149829
>Experiment on the man

An instrument would be nice too

>>6149829
>Before he leaves, ask him to bring you a musical instrument
>Experiment on the man

>>6149853
>>6149880
>>6149994
>>6150024
>>6150050

>Request a musical instrument

“Before you go,” you add as the prince begins to exit, “Fetch me an instrument, will you?”

He turns, balking at the odd request, “..As in, a musical instrument?”

You nod, “Is that so strange?”

“I mean, something like- my apologies,” he seemed to have thought the better of what he was about to comment, “someone as powerful as you- what need have you for something as trivial as music?”

You rise, stringing lines of cartilage across the length of your left arm to imitate the strings of a violin, and a single stand on your right, distending your right hand to replicate a bow. You begin to play a brief segment of a piece you liked about a swan lamenting its place on the dining table. With the improvised instrument and without the assistance of the system, your performance is good but less than exceptional- still, it’s enough to prove the point.

“Tragic, isn’t it? Despite not uttering a single of the words, you could feel it in your bones. The dread, and the lamentation of times past.”

“..what are you trying to say?”

You sigh, disappointed at his lack of understanding despite his desire to master <Arts> and become a ruler of men.

“No amount of coercion or material can truly control a person's actions. Anything bought can be bought again, and grabbing the heart by clutching the ribcage is missing the point. If you want to control someone, you have to control their impetus. And just now, merely by playing a few chords, I did that. To you. Not words nor pictures, nor all the gold in the world can do that as well as a song .”

He casts his gaze down on his feet pausing before he can bring himself to speak, “...I will fetch you an instrument, your eminence.”

You snicker, “Consider the lesson on impetus a payment for services rendered.”

You can see his jaw shift beneath his skin as he grits his teeth in indignation, exiting the room before his tongue gets him in trouble.

>>6150716

>Experiment on the man

Having been left alone with the prisoners, you find yourself curious as to what the princeling meant by ‘particularly strong will’. The enchantment on the shackles seems more potent than the elf’s despite her much larger soul. You lift your arm, chaining him to the ground with the physical aspect of your <Fetters> while keeping his mind untouched. Then, with a swipe of a titanium-reinforced claw, you snap the binds around his wrists.

Life returns to his dull brown eyes, his mop of greasy black hair gliding across the scarred flesh of his face and broad shoulders. He snaps back to reality remarkably quickly, fully reconsolidating his <Impetus> in a single instant. The prince was right, this guy is impressive- for a mortal, anyway.

“Who are you- what the fuck is this?” He tries to break the binds, but finds himself incapable- his desires are too powerful for his own good. He grins, colorless divinity pouring out of his body, wrapping around his sinew and muscle and projecting out of his skin as he attempts to burst out of your fetters. However-

His soul quivers, and, despite no damage to his body, the man releases a blood-curdling scream. Hastily, you dispel the <Fetters>, only reattaching them after his existence stops cracking.

“W-what the hell-”

>Ask about the power he used
>Ask him about himself
>Use him to test your <Ordinance>
>Write-in

>>6150717
>>Ask him about himself
>>Ask about the power he used

I think we should start spinning a tale of a secret organization that they are part of that sought to commune with beings from the beyond. If we implant that believe into a few peoples minds, and the princess too, it will help us on the long run

>>6150717
>Ask about the power he used
>Use him to test your <Ordinance>

>>6150722
>it will help us on the long run
How? There is no long run here, we're dying. We need to speedrun an escape.

>>6150794
I think we need all the help we can get, and if we already have a fake secret society in place, it's easier for more people to believe it's real. More people to do research for us.

>>6150717
>Ask about the power he used
>Use him to test your <Ordinance>

>>6150717
>>Ask about the power he used
>>Use him to test your <Ordinance>

>>6150800
I don't think we need an elaborate story tho. But messing with peoples ingrained beliefs to get them to be our loyal servant is something we should pursue

>>6150717
>>Ask about the power he used
>>Ask him about himself

>>6151149
yeah, and things can stick better when there's a story accompanying it.
I'm just trying to come up with things beyond the simply vote

>>6150722
>>6150794
>>6150850
>>6151149
>>6151269

>Ask about the power he used

The prisoner narrows his gaze, adjusting to the situation more quickly than anyone could be expected to. He looks you up and down, a fire burning in his sunken eyesockets as he stares you straight in the face.

“You’re not human, are you?”

You chuckle, “You could say that. You’re quite clever.”

He shakes his head, “It’s not that complicated- for such a talented witch to know nothing about Aura is basically impossible.”

“Aura, you say?”

He nods, “It’s using mana to increase your strength and the power of your strikes without magic.”

“And how is this different from sorcery?”

He tilts his head, seemingly baffled at the question, “It’s just a completely different thing.” He states with full honesty. You can’t ascertain whether he’s correct.”

>Use him to test your <Ordinance>

Having ended the chat, you place a hand on his forehead, whispering to yourself as power crackles once again from the tips of your fingers and into your throat, soundless whispers pouring out of your mouth as you begin to calculate the totality of his being. The process is smooth, more so than you expected, but the issue comes when you try to give the <Ordinance> itself.


Nothing gives way.

Like a statue carved of a single stone, you can’t find a seam or weakness to remove or replace anything about the man’s existence beyond the furthest, most trivial fringes of his soul. You could try overpowering him, but that would probably snap his consciousness into pieces. You could try softening him up with your <Fetters>, but that might risk melting his brain with the ecstasy. You click your tongue- what do you do?

>Brute force it
>Use the <Fetters>
>Change him from the top down
>Resonate with his soul
>Give up

>>6152105
>Resonate with his soul
Hopefully this helps us degrade slower instead of melting us

>>6152105
>Give up
For the moment anyway. Climb a hill before climbing a mountain after all. Let's mess with our other victim.

>>6152105
>>Resonate with his soul

>>6152105
>Resonate with his soul
not sure what that even means

>>6152105
>>Change him from the top down

>>6152105
>offer him a deal to teach us how to use Aura

>>6152138
>>6152171
>>6152202
>>6152298
>>6152344
>>6152349

>Resonate with his soul

You decide to use a similar method you used when you were consuming souls on earth. You place your hand on the man’s forehead, mouthing a silent liturgy with your radiant crimson lips. You carefully, delicately meld your impetus into his essence, being cautious not to allow any of his divinity to seep into your soul as you attempt to achieve a sense of oneness.

His mouth widens, stretching the limits of his jaw as he releases an ear-piercing wail. You pull your hand away, withdrawing yourself from his shaking, screeching body. His fingers dig into the skin of his head, crackling colorless power bleeding crimson as it courses over his writhing flesh. You hear a terrible crack, bone shattering as the man’s nails breach his skull, grey and red mush pouring out from the newly opened gaps. The elven girl stands there, still shackled, unable to muster a reaction to anything.

You sigh- there’s only one thing that can create that much pain in a person- in the same way that the divinity of this world is toxic to you, your divinity is toxic to them, too. If you had to guess, some sort of direct contact- like when the criminal’s <Aura> met your <Fetters>, or when you began to resonate with his soul directly- is what creates the backlash that killed this man. The same backlash that’s killing you.

“What the fuck?”

You turn around- Betty spoke again.

“What the fuck did you do to me, you crazy bitch?”

The maid looks at herself- slender wrists and soft supple skin seemingly anathema to the new <Her>. You inspect her <Impetus>, and find your own soul puppeting the body again. However, you’re reasonably confident that this voice isn’t Jane’s.

“Wow, you’re like a cockroach. It’s genuinely impressive.” You say, giving a condescending slow clap to the ghost, “You’re dead. You killed yourself. See?” You point back at the corpse on the floor behind you, face and body locked forever in the throes of soul-rending agony.

“What? No, no that can’t be right- you wrapped me in those weird chains and I-”

“You’re a copy. Well, maybe you’re you? I dunno, it’s a dilemma.” You sigh, recalling the ship of theseus, “Regardless, your <Parts> are different. You are just a part of me now. Still, I respect your grit- really, I do- you managed to override enough of the souls I ate to manifest yourself. As I said, it really is admirable.”

The maid’s eyes linger on the body.

>>6154282

“What are you?” She asks, looking you dead in the eye.

You shrug, seeing no reason not to answer, “I’m Atë.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m not sure.”

Betty flashes an undignified look of annoyance, the sort of expression the original inhabitant of that body never would. Deciding to make sure that this soul can’t defy you as Jane did, you compel the criminal to lift his arm. His eyes widen in horror as the limb moves on its own, raising above his head. You smirk- this is how it ought to be.

>Dissolve the ghost back into yourself
>Ask the ghost some questions
>Leave him be for now and move onto the elf
>Write-in

>>6154283
>>Ask the ghost some questions
>Ask him to teach us how to use Aura
>if not, try to examine this "ghost" more closely to see if more knowledge can be shaken loose.
It has his memories, therefore, we have his memories

>>6154289
Support. Always be learning.

>>6154283
>>6154289
Ok might as well
It could be more efficient than the Systems enhancement skills

>>6154289
>>6154301
>>6154416

“That power you used before,” You ask the ghost, “Aura, was it? I need you to teach me.”

The maid looks you up and down, stopping for a moment to remove her shoes before proceeding forward. She extends his fingertip, a crimson glow much dimmer than the one she showed before radiating off of her skin.

“That’s gonna be tricky.” She says, casting her attention back towards you, “..well, maybe you might be able to use it.”

You cock your head slightly, “Explain.”

She sighs, plopping down onto the floor and prompting you to follow. When you stay standing, she simply continues anyway.

“This world is full of mana.” She furrows her brow, “Though you might be more comfortable calling it <Divinity>.”

Your eyes widen, “How did you know that?”

The criminal smiles bitterly, “I’m made of you now, right? Everything about you is a bit hazy to me, but the surface layer is a part of my soul. Your soul. Whatever.”

You decide to pry into this later, “Get to the point.”

She nods, continuing from her starting point, “Compared to the earth, humans can barely store any amount of mana in their souls. Right now, I have about as much as that elf over there- while the amount is exceptional, it’s still barely enough to perform even basic techniques without risking serious harm.”

“So then, how do your people use divinity?”

“Instead of using it to directly affect reality, mana is used to affect other mana. Like, redirecting the ambient energy into whatever you want to do instead of just doing it.”

You frown- you’ve tried doing that before, but it seems nearly impossible to make work. Even the Shaman didn’t seem to be able to do such a feat, otherwise he would have likely practiced that instead of resorting to slaughtering an entire city.

You chuckle- the humans here have piss poor divinity stores, but their sensitivity to it is top notch. Their souls are far more connected with the divinity in their cosmos than yours is.

“Is that how your <Aura> works too?”

He shrugs, “Well, yes and no. As I just showed, none of the techniques actually require <Mana Breathing>, the basics of being an Aura user. <Breathless Aura> is pretty much only ever used by assassins and in emergency situations where the surrounding environment is lethal to the user, though, since it’s almost 10 times less efficient when compared to the highest level users of <Breathing>.”

“It’s enough,” You insist, “I have the power to pick up the slack.”

“..I guess so.” He runs crimson light through his fingertips, etching a crude outline of a human body into the ground.

>>6154523

“Where is your soul?” He asks.

“..what?”

“Where, physically, is your soul right now?”

“I dunno. In me?”

He uses his fingernail to poke a tiny, almost invisible hole in the head of the outline. “There’s a point, smaller than you could see with your eyes, where your soul physically exists in your body. Of course, the point can freely move around, so if your head gets blown to bits it’ll instantly inhabit whatever the largest nerve chunk in your body is. The point is that there’s a place in your body that directly interacts with your soul. So, you can't efficiently funnel divinity into your muscles or even move them faster than your nerves can tell them to.

“The principle of <Aura> is to extend that point- first in tendrils to wherever it needs to be, then to your entire body, and finally-” A tiny flicker of red light erupts from the top of his finger, “Outside your body completely. This is <External Aura>, and if you can do that, they call you a Master.”

You nod your head- it’s kinda similar in principle to a <Manifestation>, the pinnacle of the system’s authorities. In the process of the man becoming a ghost, you forgot everything you copied over from his brain and soul- you wonder how this random prisoner is able to use the pinnacle of this world's physical power. You shake your head, deciding to leave the personal questions for later.

“So, what’s the trick? How do I learn it?”

“..you just have to try it. Over and over again. The more you do the farther you can stretch it, but it takes time. Kinda like working out.”

..shit. Time is the one thing you don’t have. You could try ripping the knowledge right from this guy’s soul, but it’s entirely possible that he’s only able to maintain his soul’s training due to the unique circumstances of inhabiting a body from the White World while maintaining his complete original impetus.

You furrow your brow- what should you do?

>Try practicing <Aura>
>Try absorbing the criminal’s knowledge
>Leave him alone for now and move on to the elf
>Write-in

>>6154524
>Leave him alone for now and move on to the elf
We know how to do it now, we can try later. Not like body reinforcement will help us get out of this place anyway.

>>6154524
>Leave him alone for now and move on to the elf
Yup, it's good to know, but we'll put a pin in it. Something to study when we we're idle.

>>6154524
>Leave him alone for now and move on to the elf
we should try to keep her intact (at least until the next patch arrives)

>>6154524
>Leave him alone for now and move on to the elf

>>6154673
we really shouldn't break all our toys

>>6154524
>>Leave him alone for now and move on to the elf

>>6154529
>>6154659
>>6154673
>>6154915
>>6155064

>Leave him alone for now and move on to the elf

You sigh, deciding that such a complex technique is better attempted when you have more time on your hands. You wrap your <Fetters> around the thin, delicate limbs and throat of the vacant-eyed elf, making sure you find her properly secured before severing the shackles around her wrists. The girl’s eyes remain vacant for a while, as if she was rousing from a trance, almost a minute passing before awareness fully returns to her face.

She begins to panic, pulling against the crimson fetters around her. You see her gasp for air- no, more than that, take a <Mana Breath>. Worried more so for her safety than yours, you offer a warning.

“I wouldn’t try anything.” You speak in a stern tone, “Unless you want to end up like that.” You gesture to the dead criminal, his body a reminder of unimaginable suffering, locked as it was by the rigor mortis of his powerful musculature. The elf’s eyes widen first in shock and disgust, then further in recognition.

“T-that’s the Bandit King!” She gasps again, though this time without a spell in mind, collapsing backwards onto the ground, “You- you slew the Bandit King?”

You look to the maid behind you; smugly, she crosses her arms and gives a sharp nod, “More of a bigshot than you thought, right?”

You scoff, turning your attention back to the elf. There sure are a lot of ‘Kings’ running around these days. She elucidates, “H-he was one of the most powerful men on the continent. An Aura Master. It took an entire battalion of aura knights just to subdue him.”

>>6156101

You cock your head, “Why didn’t they just execute him? Those shackles seemed to make him docile enough.”

She shakes her head, “They only dampen intent- the desire to live is so strong that if the prisoner detects a threat to their life, they almost always wake back up with a vengeance.”

You nod to yourself- you probably didn’t trigger the shackles because you were attempting to keep him alive.

“Well, enough chit-chat.” You walk forward, honing your impetus, before the elf prostates herself before you, exclaiming: “I am forever in your debt!”

“...what?”

“That man was a murderer, a thief, a terror! In all actuality, I only got caught in the first place because I broke the treaty and entered Malgha trying to kill that wretch.”

You narrow your eyes- if he really was as dangerous as she says, it’s not improbable that the princeling brought the so-called Bandit King to you as an assassination attempt.

“Would you have been able to?”

Her lips curl into a bitter smile, “It was possible.”

You look at the criminal behind you again- he doesn’t seem offended, so you imagine the elf isn’t bluffing.

“Still, if the outcome was so uncertain, why go so far?”

“He.. he took my sister from me. I’ll do anything, miss executioner. Anything you ask.”

>Proceed with the experiment
>Ask the girl about herself
>Ask the girl about magic
>Ask the girl about the Bandit King
>Write-in

>>6156103
>Ask the girl about magic

>>6156103
>Ask the girl about herself
If we know about our target then shaping their Impetous should be simpler. Perhaps we can hone that murderous intent into a deadly assassin pointed at solving our problems.

>>6156103
>Ask the girl about magic
If she knows her stuff go right to the "how to traverse dimensions" topic

>>6156103
>>6156338
Actually first we should
>Ask the girl about herself
Specifically her homeland and surviving family members
Just in case she holds out on the knowledge of vile sorcery we can say we might as well go raze her home and make her relatives consume each other raw in a multiple participant ouroboros since we're gonna die anyway
Oughta work since she was willing to go so far to avenge her sister
Hopefully it doesn't come to that but you know just in case

>>6156103
>>Ask the girl about herself
>>Ask the girl about magic
>Ask about her species
I assume grey-world humans were the template with which to make humans here, but they were changed a little to make these elfs

>>6156103
>>Ask the girl about herself
>>Ask the girl about magic

File: Hunting_Hound.png (1.25 MB, 1995x3004)

1.25 MB PNG

>>6156105
>>6156186
>>6156338
>>6156346
>>6156399
>>6156709

Since I was really unhappy with how the Halloween illustration turned out I decided to pay it back by doing art of some of the as of yet undepicted characters! Picrel is Crimson Dove.

>Ask the girl about herself

“So, you’re an elf, eh? Are you guys different from humans or is it just the pointy ears?”

She smiles, “We are the children of the Wind. We bear Her gift, the gift of <Longevity>.”

“Hold on, hold on- gifts?”

She nods, “Each god’s children bear a gift from their creator, and a propensity towards their magic and their faith. Well, it’s not unheard of for a child of one god to worship another, though.”

“So, wait, having more div- er, mana- isn’t a natural trait?”

“Well, it is and it isn’t. The longer you live, the longer you have to <Breathe>. Thus elder elves can achieve heights of magic unthinkable to humans.”

“Oh. Um, this might be a sensitive question, but, do you have any other family? Friends?” You feign guilt, “My journey and my goal are.. treacherous, to put it lightly. If I fail, you may be caught in the crossfire.”

“I am already dead, miss,” she declares, “You have me at your disposal. I swear it on the Wind.”

You decide to take that as a no.

“Who else is there, anyway, besides the Wind? Your gods, that is.”

Her eyes widen- she seems surprised at your lack of awareness, but continues regardless, “Amongst their midst, the Dreamer is the greatest and oldest, the first to awake from the Khaos. Then, the Light, and her twin, the Shade. Then, the Spawn of the World: the Sea, the Wind, and the Caldera. Finally, born of the sparks of divine war, the Roaring.”

“The Roaring?”

She nods, “The roaring and the flash, when the three of the World clash.”

Ah, you think to yourself, she must be referring to electricity- thunder and lightning. You are rather curious as to what parts of her rundown are myth and which are genuine history of their world’s divinity.

“Is there any way to speak to one of the gods?”

She shakes her head, “The Children of the Sea insist that their father remained behind to watch over them, but they haven’t heard his voice in generations. As far as the world is concerned, they are merely indulging in a desperate fantasy.”

>>6157117

>Ask about magic

“Do you know,” you ask, “About the Grey World?”

Her eyes widen, “But of course! The source of all creation, the untamed wilderness beyond the Gods’ grace.”

“That’s where I’m from- and I really, REALLY need to get back.”

She gasps, “What- how is that..”

“I was pulled here,” you explain, “by what your world might call a Sorcerer.”

Her eyes harden, “The Devil’s ritual.”

“Yes, but it failed- instead of bringing what he wanted, he pulled me over instead.”

She bites her finger, seemingly a contemplative habit, “...that bends credulity, but you certainly aren’t a Beast of the Chaos. You seem much too cognizant for that.”

You nod, “This place is poison to me, and I to it- if I fall here, my soul, colossal by the standards of this place, will become unleashed, releasing a wave of toxic divinity that might wipe out all life from here to the ends of the horizon.” Of course, you don’t know this to be true, but you aren’t lying either. It’s as compelling a hypothesis as anything else, “I need to get home.”

“..to think of the collateral damage first- you really are noble.” The maid trembles behind you- though unparsable to the untrained eye, you can tell the criminal is suppressing his laughter.
“I am at your disposal.”

>Ask more questions (specify)
>Proceed with the experiment
>Try to learn the Devil’s ritual
>Write-in

>>6157121
>talk to her about the curiosity of our depiction of elves. We're under the impression that we travelled millions of years in the past, but we can just as easily be millions of years in the future. But maybe thinking that time is an issue for interdimensional travel is a wrong path...
>>Try to learn the Devil’s ritual
>We need to find a way to reverse it
>or send a message to our allies, so they can use it to pull us back

>>6157121
>Try to learn the Devil’s ritual
If she knew a better or easier way back she would have volunteered it

>to think of the collateral damage first- you really are noble.
Lmao

>>6157121
>Try to learn the Devil’s ritual
Another piece of the puzzle leading home. And of course learning how to bait interwraiths will be useful.

>>6157336
Figures - right after commissioning a spacesuit we learn a technique that makes it unnecessary

>>6157121
>Ask if she has any ideas on how to figure out the interaction between the different types of mana/divinities
>Proceed with the experiment

>>6157342
the ritual with which to summon interwraiths like that, and the method from the devourer's cookbook seem quite different.
Plus we can still do spacetravel for recreational purposes.

I HAVE BEEN GETTING 900 SECOND WAIT TIME 3 TIMES NOW, BECAUSE EACH TIME I LET IT RUN IN THE BACKGROUND AND THEN I FORGET

>>6157132
>>6157222
>>6157336
>>6157342
>>6157601

>Try to learn the Devil’s ritual

Deciding to leave the elf's mind untampered with for now, you return to your cross-legged meditative position, conveying a silent will that you not be deserted or disturbed to your new criminal underling as you return to your soulscape.

You open your eyes, met with a somewhat unfamiliar sight- the normal beach is gone, replaced with a completely dark room. The texture of the floor is hard, glass-like in the same way that the beach often is, clinking beneath the heels of your shoes as you begin to pace. You extend a hand, crimson light bursting forth from your fingertips and illuminating the pitch-black space: you find yourself in a large, vaguely circular room, walls and floor warped and clumsily molded in a way which seems familiar to you. Your eyes widen- this must be the sand castle you built.

You see a lone bookshelf, carved of fine oak and clearly crafted by an artisan, standing alone in the center of the vacuously empty chamber. You intuit that this room is a library, empty though it may be, and that the shelf- as well as its solitary leatherbound book- are from elsewhere.

You walk up to the shelf, snatching the gilded tome from its perch. The book is familiar, down to the intricate golden patterning and the clawmarks scorched onto the cover- this is the ritual.

You open the book, finding the pages blank at first, then, as you continue to riffle through its pages, ruby-red ink almost seems to bubble form beneath the surface of the pages and assort itself into a series of letters.

To my eager inheritor.

If you are reading this, as opposed to receiving my tutelage directly or as a part of a broader education, my rebellion has failed, and I am most likely dead.

There's something special- not quite ominous, but in its own way unnatural- about the grimoire in your hands. Though the language is as different as it could possibly be, it has the same impression as the Devourer's Cookbook: though undoubtedly an inanimate object, there's something of a will to it.

What you are about to attempt is completely and utterly foolish, as much so as baiting a shark to come hither by doing your best impression of a seal. If you have an ounce of common sense, you would stop your endeavor here and now. Though, I suppose if you had an ounce of common sense you would have never picked up this book in the first place.

The essence of this technique is to tempt a Being from the Chaos from a <Black World> to this one. While they may breach from one reality to another at will, they are less than used to having this process done to them rather than by them. This discombobulation is your only chance to slay the beast and avoid a painful and miserable end.

>>6158932

You scowl- all this is very interesting, but it's less than helpful to your current situation. As if reading your intent, the pages turn themselves, revealing a segment about-

Worlds

The Gods have, according to the tradition of the Churches, purged this reality of the Chaos at the genesis of the White World as it is known. This is not mere myth- no matter how hard you try, no Beast of the Chaos will ever find itself in the White World of its own accord. To circumvent this, you must find another world.

It is most important to only pull from a world on the same plane as your own. Should you reach beyond the finite (though endlessly vast) reaches of the finite plane and into the realm of infinite verticality, rather than bringing a potential boon as well as a dangerous threat, you will merely draw in a font of death, a source of toxins to the very fabric of reality so potent and deadly that the very existence of the White World will be imperiled. Though this is most difficult to do by accident, it is an outcome which must be avoided at any and all costs.

There's that word again- <Verticality>. You speculate again to its significance.

>Try to will the book to give you more intel
>Press onward to the section about the technique itself
>Meditate on reality
>Write-in

>>6158933
>Too late. A summoner failed spectacularly. They summoned a being whose mana is toxic to the world, and to whom this worlds mana is toxic in return.
>It must be banished back to where it came from, lest another world would receive these toxins

>>6158933
>Try to will the book to give you more intel
How did it get in our soul to begin with? Did we take it from the elf? Or maybe it got in when we bit on the Prince’s lure

>>6158933
>Try to will the book to give you more intel
Try to will up techniques for sending a toxic chaos beast home

>>6158957
I suspect this book's essence was in the Prince's soul.

>>6158933
>>Try to will the book to give you more intel

>>6158950
does seem like something we should try to communicate to the book... if it has will.
>>6158957
>>6158979
It's... cursed knowledge that, once known, will embed itself into your soul?

>>6158950
>>6158957
>>6158979
>>6159101

>Try to will the book to give you more intel

You close your eyes, honing your will like the nib of a pen and pressing it into the book. You try to visualize it, scrawling the information you need about how you can get home and subvert the <Verticality> of your situation.

So, You Broke The Only Rule

Or, more accurately, some moron (in all likelihood the original keeper of this Ritual), has done you the disservice of breaking it for you. To you, I have good news and bad.

First and foremost, all entities are intrinsically connected to their native plane- in other words, should you find yourself dislodged from reality, you shall return naturally to your home plane, as if a tether pulled tight were finally released and allowed to snap back in place. It is most prudent to return to this plane’s equivalent of your universe of origin. Should you neglect to do this, it is possible that you may be trapped in your plane’s equivalent of your current world at best and torn asunder in the transit at worst.

You scowl- how the hell are you supposed to do that? You implore the book, but find no answer. It seems like this Devil- or at the very least this particular <Art>, has no bearing to interdimensional travel itself. It seems most likely that the information you’re reading was a precaution placed in case somebody had made a mistake, a last ditch effort to spare their reality from imminent annihilation.

You find yourself curious about the character of this long-dead sorcerer- he referred to his acts as a <Rebellion>, and seemed to have cared deeply enough about the safety of his world and the continuation of his movement that he left precautions in place both to aid a successor and clean up any messes that they might make. Well, you suppose that isn’t particularly relevant anymore.

So, it seems like the course of action is set- you must figure out how to transport yourself with this <Art>, use it to return to this plane’s <Earth>, and dislodge yourself from the plane to rubberband yourself back home.

>Experiment with the Devil’s Ritual
>Practice <Ordinance>
>Develop an art to manually activate your system abilities
>Continue reading the Tome
>Write-in

Ok, so... the Verticality issue (plane) will be solved by itself, but we still need to solve the Horizontality issue ourselves, I guess

>>6159624
>investigate the "insides of our sand castle"

>>6159624
>Continue reading the Tome
Let’s not rush off before learning everything that was left in this ritual, since the maker apparently cared so much

>>6159624
>Continue reading the Tome

So, find Vertical Earth, cast a line, reverse fish ourselves to it. How hard could it be?

>>6159624
>>Continue reading the Tome
I want to check out the changes to our soulscape too, but later

>>6159641
>>6159763
>>6159896
>>6160162

>Continue reading the Tome

Extradimensional Noodling

Though, of course, it is a gross oversimplification to equate the fabric of our world with the fabric of the Plane, it is a generally useful analogy when trying to conceptualize it with a mind as limited as yours ought to be. A given world may have others which are closer to it and others that are farther away. When there exists no world that is ‘closer’ to yours and a designated other than those respective worlds are to each other, one may assign those two worlds as being ‘adjacent’ to one another.

Worlds, similar to the spacetime bend created by the Celestial Bodies, bear an effect on the fabric of Planar dynamics, interfering with any attempt to create an aperture or other such interference on a non-adjacent World. Thusly, it is generally advised to only attempt to fish from a world which is adjacent to your own.

You decide to skim over the segment regarding baiting over an <Interwraith> for now, as it is generally similar to the advice available in the <Devourer’s Cookbook>, and find yourself somewhat disappointed by the actual notes on extradimensional breaching: the Devil simply advises one to conceptualize the network of the Plane, of the subtle webwork of connections which fabricate the reality a set of seemingly meaningless buzzwords. Furthermore, and almost more frustrating, you discover that the one-way nature of the technique isn’t a bug, it’s a feature. An unnecessary feature which only exists to stop the user from doing something stupid. According to the tome:

’There is, baked into the core of this ritual, a filter to prevent one from tumbling into the abyss. The extradimensional fabric, the material between worlds, ought to be nigh incalculable in its lethality and emptiness, and the Black and Gray worlds where Chaos might be found are little better.’

You can’t help but curse the so-called Devil, not only for creating the Uncrowned King in the first place, but also for meddling in the Ritual and making it needlessly difficult to go home. Then again, if he developed this as the finalized ritual, it’s possible that he might have an uncompleted draft of the technique somewhere in his personal affects. If you could get your hands on his personal journals, you might be able to gain the key home without having to rebuild the ritual from the ground up.

>Experiment with the Devil’s Ritual
>Practice <Ordinance>
>Develop an art to manually activate your system abilities
>Write-in

>>6160867
>Go looking for the Prince again
If this book came from his soul, he’s our best lead on any personal journals or rough drafts from the same author

>>6160867
>>Practice <Ordinance>

>>6160867
>Practice <Ordinance>
Best to refine our tools to try and hunt down more thorough notes on the Devil's Ritual.

>>6161057
>>6161082
>>6161088

>Practice <Ordinance>

You open your eyes, having gained enough information from the Devil’s Ritual tome snatched from the soulscape of the Prince to formulate a rough gameplan. You’ve decided that the key to making your way back where you belong is to get your hands on an incomplete version of the Ritual, ideally to simply find one without the safety measures, but if that isn’t available, enough of the Devil’s work on the matter to recreate the Ritual from the ground up.

Though it seems like a longshot, you decide to ask your new associates if either of them know where the Devil’s writings might be. The elf shakes her head, saying:

“You’d have to find a ruin somewhere. After the Devil was banished by the Gods, every known piece of his writings were destroyed as a matter of public interest. Under penalty of death up to three generations. Nobody sane would bother holding onto that sort of thing, especially since witchcraft is so dangerous.”

“But that’s impossible,” you rebut with a frown, “The second prince was able to get his mitts on the Ritual, the most dangerous and most important art the guy ever made. I don’t believe he just stumbled onto some random burial site and happened upon something like that.”

“You’re sharp,” the criminal interjects, “Anyone who knows anything knows that the Malghan royal family didn’t destroy everything they confiscated.

The elf’s eyes widen in shock, “N-no, that can’t be right, why would they-”

“I don’t care about the politics.” you interject, “Just tell me where this hidden knowledge is.”

“The King’s Vault.” The Bandit King answers, a casual air to his tone unbefitting of the situation, “Not the one down the hall, the special one underneath the throne room that only the king himself can access.”

You frown, wondering how the prince managed to get his hands on this book if they were all kept in such a high-security location. You shake your head, deciding that there’s no point speculating- you can just ask when he gets back. In the meantime, you need to either control the current king or find a way to put the second prince on the throne- regardless, <Ordinance> is key.

“I need to practice an ability on you,” you tell the elf, “One that rewrites a person’s cognition. It seems like the only way to get into that vault.”

“I understand,” the elf kneels before you, “Do what you will.”

>Attempt something trivial
>Attempt to change her perception of reality
>Attempt to change her beliefs
>Attempt to change her values
>Attempt to fully subjugate her
>Write-in

>>6161723
obviously you don't destroy vital information
>Attempt to change her beliefs
make her believe there was another duo of gods for the sun and the moon

>>6161723
>Attempt to change her values
She's too agreeable, can't raep the willing

>>6161723

> Make her believe we carry on some legacy of her sister's

>>6161723
>Attempt to change her perception of reality
Anything we do will be seen as valiant and heroic, and our speech and mannerisms will be kind and compassionate

gonna change my vote to not have a 4way tie
to this:
>>6161766
>> Make her believe we carry on some legacy of her sister's

>>6161751
>>6161754
>>6161766
>>6161817
>>6163685

>Make her believe we carry on some legacy of her sister's

You place your hand upon her golden locks, the divinity leaking from your fingertips streaming out in a far more controlled, orderly fashion than the conflagration of crimson sparks that preceded the death of the Bandit King. Is it because she's more willing to be manipulated or because you've become more proficient with the technique? Regardless, you feel it far less likely that she'll die in the process.

Your soul processes the task, the totality of her consciousness. You glide through it, effortlessly locating the connection points for your <Ordinance> as silent words echo through her very being.

"You see much of your sister in me," you ordain, "In a sense, helping me is continuing her legacy."

The request is complex, thousands of bits and pieces needing to shift and click back into place; however, in a well-executed application of the <Art>, the soul and brain of the target themselves bears the load of the rearranging, perfectly preserving itself as the ordinance is put in place.

You find yourself about to delete the comprehension of her before a thought occurs- you have an empty library in your soul- is it possible to save her existence in the form of a book? On the one hand, it'd be immensely useful to have encyclopedic knowledge of this world on demand. On the other, if things go badly enough you might fry your brain badly enough to cause a serious problem in the absence of the system's protection.

>Take the risk
>Hold off on it
>Write-in

>>6163745
>Take the risk
YOLO

>>6163745
>>Take the risk
been a while since we rolled recklessly

>>6163745
>Take the risk
And thus begins six threads of believing we're an elven adventurer hunting the bandit king for vengeance.

>>6163746
>>6163752
>>6163785

Hope you all had a merry Christmas! Sorry for the lack of updates these last two days, but I'm sure you all understand.

>Take the risk

You try to change your conceptualization of the infinite vastness of being. There are things that are useful, things that are not, and things that are difficult to parse. You currently have a full <Understanding> of your quarry's ego- this is wholly exorbitant for your purposes. Still, there is much to transcribe: knowledge of the white world, skill with weapons, theology and myths, and most importantly of all, her magic.

You grit your teeth at the strain on your physical form as your brain struggles to process it all- you can’t afford to be as reckless as you usually are since you can't predict how your current body will handle the dissolution of your brain. Forcing your elven friend to keep her eyes shut, you unleash your <Figure> to secure some much needed computing power.

You feel a memory of playing in the woods with your- no, her- sister; you can see the light of the sun pick up an emerald glow as it streams through the delicate flesh of the greenery above, you can hear the babbling of streams and smell the earthy richness of the forest. An unfamiliar joy tingles in your chest, and something indescribable when you tear it out and discard it.

You balk under the weight of it all. Even as you continue to toss larger and larger chunks of her being, the load is nearly unbearable.

>Degradation: 6%

You decide to separate her into three books. One for Magic, one for Skill, and one for Knowledge. You can feel your blood sizzle and dissolve into a puff of caustic smoke as it corrodes and is corroded by the hostile world.

>Degradation: 7%

>You have gained the Chronicles of Auridea (Vol II-IV)!

Your eyes in the Soulscape open, and you confirm the presence of three books bound in plain green leather, a project that (while satisfactory to an extent impressive for a hobbyist) is clearly a work of passion from a non-professional at the craft.

You smirk- you really can compress everything useful about a person and keep it all to yourself. You consider reading one, but you recall that the princeling should be back soon.

>Read a volume (specify)
>Return to the real world
>Write-in

>>6165120
>Hope you all had a merry Christmas!
Thanks, same to you!

>Return to the real world
Need to ask the prince about that vault - we may have to go roll his family at last
Also request sturdier test subjects, we killed another by accident
We're getting the hang of it though

>>6165120
>>Read a volume (Magic)
I want to investigate the magically hidden wall later, so this is a good starter on grasping what they consider magic

>>6165120
>Read a volume (magic)

>>6165145
>>6165162
>>6165727

>Read a volume (magic)

You decide to try and research the point of greatest curiosity for you- this world's Magic, somehow different entirely from what its denizens call Sorcery or Witchcraft. Pulling Vol. III of the Chronicles from the shelf, you begin to flip through it.

The basis of magic is its Formulae, the text reads, complex, inscrutable geometric and runic structures arranged within the confines of a Circle. First Circle spells are the simplest, usually tiny tricks of mana with meager effects and structures even a child could memorize with practice. Each and every subsequent circle increases the output and variety of these First Circle spells exponentially, as additional room for structures and runes allows for one to control form, distance, duration, and more. It seems possible to alter Circles even as the spell is in effect in order to dynamically alter the magic, though this seems like an advanced technique requiring near perfect mastery of a given spell.

You frown as you look at the circles and calculations- the structure of it all is too perfect, too regular; Arts, while mastery and skill are required for matters of execution, are fundamentally based on Impetus. While it is impossible to "cast a spell against one's wishes," it seems like the will and desires of the caster actually matter next to none in the face of the prescriptions of the Formula. You frown- though the same can be said of the System back on your world, something about such a cold, artless way of making magic ticks you off a bit.

>Try learning some Formulae
>Investigate the nature of the magic more thoroughly
>Read a different volume
>Wake up
>Write-in

>>6166340
>>Try learning some Formulae
hands on approach. Maybe there is a force in this universe like the system that guides the magic users

>>6166340
>Wake up

>>6166340
>Try learning some Formulae

The prince staring at our motionless body wondering if/when we'll wake up.

>>6166340
>Wake up
Of all the books, isn't magic the most useless? We heard elsewhere that they were just like extra constrained Arts made by the gods, I'm pretty sure. No matter how you look at it Arts are better.

>>6166340
In the interest of tiebreaking I can switch to Formulae

>>6166468
Could be the understanding required to make our own system.

>>6166468
>>6167044
I was more thinking along the lines of knowing how to counter it better, see through and break their magic, a) for this room, and b) for the treasure vault

>make our own system
I think we should try to make life first, before we give it "a system"
creating life could totally be one of the god requirements.
First tho I'd like to distance ourselves from being "the incarnation of Ate" to being "ourselves", and no longer needing the system

>>6166346
>>6166371
>>6166436
>>6166468

>Try learning some formulae

You decide to learn the simplest wind spell you can find- wind is one of the elf girl’s specialties after all- and use it as a basis for learning magic. You simply replicate the circle by drawing it in your mind’s eye, over and over again until you fully recall it. With such a simple formula, the process only takes a couple of minutes.

You close your eyes, extending your hand and allowing the crimson light to crackle at your fingertips. It flows outward, transmitting your impetus into the desired spell, <Gust>, naturally forming into the circle you memorized and visualized. However, just as you start to believe the spell had worked, the whole thing simply fizzles out into nothing.

You frown- you know when an <Art> has failed, and you executed this one perfectly. The circle formed and persisted which, according to the book, means that your activation was successful. So, that begs the question- what the hell happened?

You decide to meditate on the spell: rituals, no matter how seemingly arcane and arbitrary, are always built and molded around Impetus, around belief in the Art, or breaking down a complicated process into simpler parts. There has to be some sort of logic.

What is the point of the circles, anyway? Why bother with all these complex modifiers when you could just as easily dream the wind stronger or the fire hotter? How is something like this even possible? You feel your brow furrow- what the hell is this magic?

You recall your first programming class and think about errors. Why would flawlessly programmed code fail to run? The first thing you check is..

A bad call. Your <Soulscape> lacks elements referenced in the code of the Formula.

You can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all- the gods of this world didn't just make people, they made software! Magic is this universe’s fucking operating system, a set of programs and code that anyone online can freely call and run. All so that the little humans could throw fire and ice at each other without ever gaining real power.

You collapse to the floor cackling, tears beading at the edges of your eyes as you curl into a hysterical ball. You can't even comprehend the scale of it all. That is divine work. Work that they abandoned on a lark. That might be why humans in this world have so little mana as well, their souls- all souls- are scalped to power this massive arcane program etched into the fabric of this reality. It's different from the Incarnation System you know as well- that's more like an entity that lends power and automatically performs pseudo-<Arts> without any means of customizating the inputs or outputs. This is a different beast, more like a law of reality than a wandering ghost, and one which can be studied, understood, and manipulated by mages. The difference between them and incarnations is stark.

>Try to delve into the operating system
>Read another volume
>Wake up
>Write-in

>>6167197
>>Wake up
>Try to do it in the real world
Maybe we lack a compiler and it doesn't run on our machine

>>6167197
>Wake up

>>6167292
It's more that we're an outsider to this reality, you see it in this line
>Your <Soulscape> lacks elements referenced in the code of the Formula.
We can't do it for the same reason we can't recover divinity here and are being dissolved

>>6167197
>Wake up
There's a strong temptation to hack reality, after all root access could be pretty busted, but oh well.

>>6167328
need to write an interface

>>6167197
>Wake up

>>6167439
Again, I think the greater flexibility of Arts make them the better option. They can do everything magic can and more, they can be used outside this toxic reality, the list goes on and on. There's really no need to learn magic, Arts can counter and break through it already.

>>6167292
>>6167328
>>6167358
>>6167439
>>6167498

>Wake up

You decide that it's time to return to reality, allowing your soulscape to slip by like sand from the top of an hourglass.

~

You stand, locking eyes with the Bandit King as she smiles, gesturing to a dull sword she holds in her dainty hands, unmarred by the calloused and scars befitting a swordsman. Despite the unfamiliar body, the criminal wields his blade naturally, with comfort and expertise befitting a master.

“You know,” you say to the bandit, “it's possible to use divinity in your sword without this aura stuff you guys use.”

His eyes widen, “A <Bladesoul>. How do you know about that? Did you read it from my memories?”

You shake your head, “No. What’s that?”

“Someone who surpasses aura.” He frowns, trying to articulate it, “It’s kinda like an aura Master, but one step beyond it. They don't just use their soul to make stuff happen, it’s like an imposition on reality. They become so dedicated to the pure art of swordsmanship itself that they become one with the sword and one with the world. It's the myth that all martial artists aspire to.”

He shakes his head, a wistfulness unbefitting of a man with his body count on his face, “But that's just a dream. In reality, it isn't possible.”

“Kobayashi Hajime.” You state, lazily sauntering around the room, “The bladesoul or whatever. That’s his name.”

You hear steel clatter against the floor, but your eyes are trained elsewhere. The prince is back, and with only a satchel instead of the promised subjects.

“I got you your instrument, demon, but we have an issue.” He states, running a hand through his silver hair as an unfamiliar anxiety and hostility show openly on his face. You chuckle, plucking what looks like a 7-stringed fiddle and bow from the bag.

“Do tell.”

“My sister or my father- no, it must be sister- has intuited that I have some sort of scheme in play. We cannot afford to waste any more time. They have accelerated the schedule. The hearing is in only a day,” he glares at you, an imperious snarl in his voice, “It’s time for you to hold up your end of the bargain.”

“Don't take that tone with me, princeling.” You command, tongues and teeth sprouting from your arms and neck as a chorus of indignation and ridicule brews beneath your words, “I am not your servant, nor am I your ward. If you try to give me orders again, I’ll kill you where you stand. Is that clear?”

He trembles with a humiliating brew of terror and rage as you loom over him, your body stretched and distended into a parody of human shape. “Of course, I shall help you, prince,” You continue, not sure if you're lying yet, “A deal is a deal.”

“..so, what can we do?”

>Offer to control his sister with <Ordinance>
>Offer to control the king with <Ordinance>
>Offer to use a puppet to exonerate the prince
>Offer to kill his family
>Write-in

>>6167880
>Offer to use a puppet to exonerate the prince
Didn't get the sense that he hates his family and wants them dead, so this should be the most palatable option for him. Least risky too. If it's a no go, offer to control the king.

>>6167880
>Tell him that we need to gauge the strengths of their souls first, then we go after the weaker of the two.
>Until then we need to be more aggressive with our testing
picking random people out of the castle to know when a soul crumbles or the person rather chooses to kill themselves under the strain

>>6167880
>>6167888
+1

happy new year

>>6167888
>>6167889
>>6168249

>Offer to use a puppet to exonerate the prince

“So you said you were detected, no? By your sister?”

“..yes. That’s correct” The prince replies, “She had noticed that one of the completed copies of the Devil’s Grimoire had been stolen from the vault, and placed surveillance on me using resources that she shouldn't have had access to.”

You click your tongue, almost awestruck by the prince’s carelessness, “This is salvageable. All I need is one more test subject.”

“You have a plan?”

“A loose one,” you say, beckoning the prince to listen, “I don't know how familiar your world is with the concept, but where I come from, any good conviction will need to prove motive, means, and opportunity. Of course, we have no intention of having you be the one convicted…”

~

An imposing throne wrought of a silvery metal shimmering with an incandescence so subtle it could be mistaken for mundane sheen loomed over the entirety of the court, the man sat upon it matching, perhaps even exceeding its power and dignity despite his wisened, almost feeble body. There was a dignity to him, an inimitable majesty in his presence that seemed to make his wiry limbs and wrinkled skin fill the heavy golden mantle upon his shoulders. Courtiers and royals alike kneeled before him almost on instinct, the center of it all being the two figures in question– the first princess, the accuser, and the second prince, the supposed witch.

“We shall start with the accused. My son, my blood. Casziago, state your case.” The monarch ordered, the slightest tilt of his sheathed magekilling blade emphasizing the foolishness of any action against him. The prince, perhaps assured of his innocence and perhaps having experienced a terror so great the thought of being cut down seemed trifling in comparison, spoke with alacrity and composure once ordered.

>>6170682

“Your majesty,” he began, “My sister, her attendants, and the court itself have been caught in an insidious deception, the schemes of an as of yet unheard of blight of Sorcerers hiding beneath the underbelly of the powers of this world.”

The princess widened her eyes, ever so slightly allowing her ice-cold composure to melt under the absurdity of the declaration. “Even if we were to believe such a fanciful interpretation of events,” a man in simple but highly decorated military garb retorted, “Royal blood is needed to enter the vault where the stolen item was stored. Put simply, such a fact is irrelevant to the case at hand even if true, unless this is a means to lay the blame at the feet of a relative.”

The prince shook his head, a smug smirk tugging subtly at his lips, “With all due respect, lord Archduke, a door made to only open to a single key may still be picked or, more to the point, breached with a suitably accurate replica.”

“The blood of our line cannot be so easily imitated,” the king brought his blade down onto the floor, the quiet ring of metal against marble silencing the room and shaking the attendants down to their bones, “Your words only confirm your guilt.”

“On the contrary father- no, your majesty,” Casziago bodly proclaimed, “I have the highest standard of evidence,” he spoke to what seemed like his attendant, dressed in the garb of a butler despite his light, feminine figure, “Bring in the prisoner!”

Wordlessly, the butler exited, returning alone with a heavy metal cage propped upon an iron cart, large will-suppressing shackles wrought of the adamantium alloy only ever used to restrain high-circle mages and witches emerging from between the bars and fixed to the sides of the portable cell. The weight of the apparatus was immense and, even with wheels, it was difficult to believe that it could be pulled by someone so lacking in muscle. Far more shocking, however, was the contents of the cage– despite the grit and grime sullying his raglike garments and once lustrous platinum hair and the sinister vermilion light faintly crackling in his sunken blue eyes, the prisoner was undoubtedly the second prince himself.

>>6170684

A cacophony of shouts and gasps permeated the throne room, expressions of shock, disbelief, and horror painting themselves upon the faces of all present with only five exceptions: the prince and his attendant, of course, were perfectly calm. The king and his eldest son, meanwhile, breathed unmistakable sighs of relief, the former’s far more pronounced than the latter. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, the princess trembled with a nigh uncontrollable rage unmistakable to those who have seen it before– the indignation of a person knowing that they're being lied to and gaslit but lacking an ounce of the power needed to prove it. The prince remained composed, but the attendant couldn't restrain the urge to cast his eyes down at the trembling head of the princess, the victorious grin on his face completely unbefitting of a servant of the crown.

“...this revelation is certainly compelling in the cause to prove the possibility of an impostor.” The king admitted, trying not to allow too much of his joy as a father that his son might be innocent after all to leak out, “But no matter how uncommon, we must first see if his blood can open the vault. Sir Valerian, if you would.”

“At your command, my liege.” The stalwart, raven haired man at the ruler’s side proceeded as ordered, heavy armor clanking as he stepped down from the pedestal of the throne and approached the prisoner. He thrust the mighty halberd in his hands into the cell, its tip barely grazing the cheek of the prisoner. Dark red blood seeped onto the tip of the spike crowning the weapon, lightly coating its point like ink on a quill before he retracted it, lightly flicking a speck of the exsanguination onto the spotless marble floor. A circle of mana sprung to life around it, brilliant white light exploding from the ground as the blood burned away; though the final entry condition– a spoken code known only to a select few royals–was not being spoken, it was evident that the blood was true.

The princess slammed her fist down onto the table, her opposite thumb clenched so forcefully in her teeth that her own blood threatened to join the prisoner’s on the floor as she desperately attempted to calculate how such a feat could even be possible. Her lips parted for a second as if to speak, but shut tightly again as she silently rejected whatever she was about to propose.

“I must give my apologies to you, my son, both on my behalf and on your sister's.” The king, to the shock of all in attendance, bowed his head so deeply that his crown threatened to topple onto the floor, “Despite the circumstances, it is unforgivable for a father to suspect his son of such a terrible crime. Merely to think of what could have happened had you failed to exonerate yourself is a pain that buries itself deep in my heart.”

“It is of no object, your majesty,” The prince replied, “Anyone could have been fooled by such insidious witchcraft.”

>>6170685

>>6170685

Though his facade was essentially impeccable, the princess could sense the taunting superiority in the heart of her enemy. She felt her fingernail crack slightly under the weight of her jaws as she continued to desperately recall any evidence or knowledge in her possession to reject such a perfectly presented lie.

~

You steel yourself, coolly assessing the current situation and considering your available options; your plan seems to have gone perfectly, but you've far from neutralized the threat. It's obvious that the princess is onto the scam, and, regardless of how cleverly you wrap it up and frame it on an imaginary devil cult, there's no way to deter her forever. Plus, there's the matter of the degradation- the longer you wait, the more your soul will dissolve into this world's poison.

Your mind swims with possibilities. What should you do now?

>Make a break for the vault
>Play it cool for now
>Write-in

>>6170689
>>Play it cool for now
the degretation only seems to happen when we interact too closely with souls
and apparently the prince already has a completed copies of the Devil’s Grimoire
we will take it from him.

>>6170689
>Play it cool
We know that the princess is still mad but the prince might not
Either way we just did him a huge solid so he ought to be more helpful
Plus we just verified we can break into the vault whenever we want

>>6170689
>Play it cool for now
> Hatch a plan with the prince to go on a journey to hunt down this devil cult, all as an excuse to get him out of his sister's cross hairs, and you closer to Devil Manual rough drafts

>>6170761
>>6170944
>>6170951

>Play it cool for now

The door of the sealed interrogation room swings shut, stone and steel shifting supernaturally into place, obscuring this room from the outside. You shift your attention to the Bandit King, his body transfigured from the maid’s to be as combat-ready as possible without adding new matter. “Can you confirm that we haven’t any interlopers, Odotheor?”

He nods, a gruff masculine voice leaking out of his androgynous, almost beautiful face, “S’empty.”

“Very well.” You smirk, taking a wrought iron key from beneath the formal ascot of the prince’s ascot and using it to unlock the genuine article from his suppressment shackles. You dispel your continuing <Ordinance>, no longer needing to read his soul in order to perfectly imitate his actions. He rouses, groaning from the aches and mistreatment you subjected his body to in order to successfully execute the illusion.

“Your tactics are most unpleasant.” He grumbles, forgetting himself for a moment as he shambles out of the opened cage.

You shrug, “You’re the one who insisted that a cheap imitation couldn’t fool the vault door.”

He grumbles, crackling blue mana forming a <Formula> at his fingertips. Shimmering cerulean water forms at the crown of its head, dying itself dark with grime and filth as it washes down each and every inch of his body, seeping through his rags and out from under the tips of his toes. You smirk, stripping your puppet’s body (currently a facsimile of the Prince himself) and prompting the true Casziago to do the same. He complies, and, after switching, takes an undue amount of satisfaction in smearing your body double in filth.

“Of course, a deal is a deal. I expect to receive the Grimoire in its entirety as compensation. Of course, I’ll also keep the remaining blood I took for reference.”

The prince frowns, adjusting his cufflinks as you shackle yourself in the cuffs. As you had determined while setting up this little charade, your soul is far too massive for these to have any significant effect even on a living corpse manipulated remotely. You let out a sigh- despite knowing you could easily burst out, the sensation of the shackles and chains around your joints is quite unpleasant.

“Your brother will be here shortly,” you remind him, “You’d better clear out while you can, unless you want to be around after he activates his <Scales>.”

>>6171516

The <Luminous Scales> are a <Blessing>, special abilities outside of the usual confines of magic given at birth to a chosen few. Some use their perpetuation as evidence that the gods still watch over the people of the White World, though cynics are quick to point out that it would be as simple for them to have the universe confer these gifts onto those who meet specific requirements as it was for them to produce the construct of magic itself. The conditions of acquiring such abilities are unknown, but it is seen as a sacred trust to be selected by the gods even in absentia.

The <Scales> are quite similar in effect to the truth-divining authorities some incarnations had back on earth. You have the <Brace of Ampelus>, but you aren’t entirely sure whether it will function here. Regardless, you have no intention of telling any lies with the expectation that they be believed, at least without gaining more information.

A look of anxiety still evident on Casziago’s face, he departs, leaving you alone in the dark.

~

A light cracks through the solid wall as the first prince approaches, and with his arrival a disquieting warmth at the base of your chest. Even in the dark, his features nigh indiscernible as the light streams in from behind his back, he seems almost radiant, his eyes piercing through the darkness and leering uncomfortably beyond your skin. You recognize that the scales are active, but ultimately that their gaze is entirely surface level.

You wondered why Casziago was so confident that his brother would never use the <Scales> in public, but now that you’re experiencing it, the reason is evident: had he been able to gaze inside you, it would feel violating, as if you were being looked at completely nude. To a man as himself, especially to his own kin, such acts would be completely out of the question. You chuckle- you suppose his use of it now belies the depths of his current contempt.

As he enters, magic candles illuminate the room, showing both yourself and him as they are, his gaze twisted into unfamiliar disgust as he sees you move and breathe in his brother’s skin.

“Speak, sorcerer,” Kieldrich commands, “I know those shackles are meaningless to you.”

“Hoh, is that so?” You respond, whistling in lieu of clapping your restrained hands, “You really are quite impressive.”

“Your flattery is meaningless. You are to tell me what your purpose here is.”

>Follow the plan and get your puppet eliminated
>Try to persuade the prince to help you escape this reality
>Enlighten him of the truths of the world
>Write-in

>"I wanted to optain the book for myself."
we could act as would we have taken the prince's form and exonerated him because we felt it for him and leave without having caused much damage.
>Act with blue and orange morality.

>>6171518
Alright we know this guy had the biggest dick willpower to the point that he alone maintained his sense of self when eaten. I don’t think it would be too bad to try
>Try to persuade the prince to help you escape this reality
We can tell him the truth - we’re reasonably certain that upon dying we’ll wipe out this whole kingdom with the release of toxic divinity. Surely under those circumstances they’d spare no expense in helping us get home, as their survival depends on it.

>>6171518
>>6171660
+1
>>6171644
+2?

dang, lost my entire write-in
basically I don't want to break our deal and incriminate the younger prince.
I want to introduce ourselves as "the songstress Ate"

>>6171644
>>6171660
>>6171971

“My purpose here?” you snicker, iron bindings creaking and straining as you freely move your arms, “My purpose here is to get out of here.”

His eyes shift- you can see uncertainty in his eyes.

“Your <Scales> can’t see me, can they?” you more state than ask, a taunting tilt to your tone, “Not even like a monster or an animal, even they have truths and lies in their own way. I’d bet I look more like an inanimate object to you. Or a hole in reality itself.”

“...what are you?” He asks, firm resolve masking the terror you’re certain rests in the depths of his heart.

“A songstress!” You reply with a chuckle, “Though I can assume that isn’t what you meant.”

“I’m not here to play your games, witch.”

You smile, pulling the pseudo-fiddle and bow from your empty gut and giving it a few strums, adjusting its tuning to be more in line with the earth standard. “I suppose not. I’m a lot of things, but the most important one to you and your entire reality is that I’m an outsider. A foreign entity that doesn’t belong in this plane of reality.”

His brow furrows in frustration and confusion, “What does that mean?”

A sigh escapes your lifts- for all his faults, the second prince is a lot quicker on the uptake. “Imagine all of reality is on a plate. Not just this country, or this planet, or even the entire White World, but every world, gray and black and everything else, all on an inconceivably large but finite disc.”

He seems to struggle with the concept, but you continue anyway, “Then, imagine another plate, veeeery similar to the first but slightly, almost imperceptibly different. Then imagine another, slightly different from both. Then another, and another, and another, all the way up and all the way down forever. Infinite plates, infinite Kieldrichs, and infinite Casziagos.”

>>6172038

“That’s impossible.” He growls, gloved fist clenched on the table, a ghastly expression on his face as his inability to discern truth from lies incenses his conflicted mind.

“You’re right.” You nod, playing a simple tune as you speak, music echoing through the cold stone walls of the cell and resonating through the metal of the bars like tuning-forks, “Suppose one universe sent a single coin to another, then received a coin from a donor. Then suppose that donor received a coin from another, fourth universe, then that from a fifth, etcetera, etcetera. In the end of the infinite transfer, every single universe would have the same amount of coins as they started with, except the original recipient which would now have one extra. You could do this infinite times for infinite resources- most impactfully, this includes what you call Mana. This cannot abide; omnipotence doesn’t come so cheap.”

“So what’s to stop them then? You say you come from another reality, after all.”

You give a somber nod, “Because anything, anything at all, that comes from one plane becomes poison to every other, and vice versa. Just by being here, I’m dying and killing your world all at once, and that’s with me doing everything I can to keep my power contained.”

“..and if you stop?”

“If I stop, whether through intention or death, my essence will flood this world, corroding everything in its path until my entire existence is annihilated. In the absolute best case scenario, your entire country will fall.”

“And in the worst case?”

“Your entire reality will collapse in on itself.”

“..how am I supposed to believe you? You’re a sorcerer. You framed my brother, you broke the taboos, you-”

“I come from a world with no gods.” You interrupt, “Except for a hostile invader that threatens to devour my entire reality. In my duel with that monster, I was punted across reality to die, and that’s how I ended up here. I use what you call <Sorcery> because it’s the only way to fight back. The only way to survive.”

His gaze falters; you can tell, based on what he’s read of your words and body language that he believes (correctly) that you are being honest. Still, even considering your plight, he probably still believes you to be intrinsically evil at best and an unredeemable monster at worst merely for the crime of touching <Arts>.

“IF I believe you,” he starts, “what do you need to leave?”

“I need the Devil’s personal effects. Not the finished grimoire, but the preliminary set. The Ritual as it stands disables interplanar travel and disallows the caster to exit through the portals it creates. I need a version without such safeguards.”

>>6172039

His eyes swim, clearly a lot is on his mind. “I shall consider it. Stay put, demon, lest we hunt your head for real.”

With a swish of his cloak, he turns and leaves, the stone walls moving for him as he leaves you in pitch blackness once again.

>Learn more of the <Ritual> in the soulscape until your next visitor arrives
>Attempt to enter the vault on your own with your main body
>Speak to someone with your main body (specify)
>Write-in

>>6172040
>Speak to someone with your main body (specify)
Check in on Casziago real quick, ask what his plans are now that he's exonerated, then
>Learn more of the <Ritual> in the soulscape until your next visitor arrives
Let's give Kieldrich a bit to get us the initial draft before we try ourselves

>>6172040
>Learn more of the <Ritual> in the soulscape until your next visitor arrives

>>6172092
This is good too.

>>6172092
+1

>>6172092
>>6172121
>>6172927

>Speak to someone with your main body (Casziago)

Your eyes open on your main body– it’s a bit tricky to manipulate two bodies simultaneously while also suppressing your divinity, so you think it best to stick to one thing at a time.

“Is the double dead?” the prince asks the moment you open your eyes. You pause to feel the area around you, finding both the Tome and the vial of Casziago’s blood on your lap.

“Nope,” you reply, “Still kicking.”

He clicks his tongue, recognizing that you’ve clearly altered the plan at your whim, running a hand through his now clean locks, anxiety evident on his face, “How are we going to fix this?”

“I have it handled,” you deflect, “The real question here is what your next plans are. In case you forgot, if you can’t help me get home, you’re almost certainly going to die.”

“...It could take months, maybe even years to secure the throne, even now that my innocence has been proven. The only way forward is to have everyone else in line either in my pocket or out of the way.”

You smirk, fiddling with your hair as you watch the emotions clash behind the young man’s eyes, “I suppose it was always going to come down to that for you. That being said, you’re in a difficult position now, no?”

“...Are you threatening me?”

“Just stating facts. I have options now, and if someone else in your family presents me with a better deal, I’ll have no choice but to take it. You know how it is, life and death and all.”

He grits his teeth, “State your terms.”

>Demand a deadline
>Demand an outing
>Demand magic texts
>Write-in

>>6173293
>Demand a deadline
If we don't have that rough draft in the next 3 days we're going in the vault ourselves to get it, and he's going to help us

>>6173293
>Everything
He's going to give us everything we demand. In return we're going to help him become king, or at least help him on the path, even if we leave before it's realized.

>>6173293
>>6173423
+1
I don't really want to continue working with the weasel, ngl

>>6173423
>>6173612
>>6174151

>Demand a deadline

You smirk, holding up three fingers. The prince scowls, "Three weeks? Even given my new position, such a matter is-"

"Days."

His eyes widen, "What?"

"You have three days to get me what I need."

"That's absolutely absurd! I-"

"Listen," you spit, torso and legs distending and cracking as new bones, joints, vertebrae, and ligaments emerge and snap into place, your body looming over the trembling royal as a quiet chorus emerges from the depths of your hollow body, an ominous aria underpinning your words, "I don't care whether you become king or not. I don't care if your reputation survives, and, in case you forgot, neither should you. You lack that luxury now. In case you forgot, if my concentration wavers for even a moment, if I unravel, your entire reality might be forfeit."

"Still, it's impossible to enter the vault without the Golden Sword, and it never leaves the hands of the King. I only managed to steal the Tome while father was ill, but he's made a full recovery now! How am I supposed to-"

"I don't care." You interrupt again, "You will either find me a way home, or I'm gonna get what I need from someone else. Ah, speaking of which, I have a guest!" You laugh, sensing a massive (by the standards of this world) presence entering the cell in which your puppet is trapped, "Don't do anything stupid now, princeling."

With a final snicker, your eyes close again.

~

"Your majesty," you say, opening eyes modeled perfectly after the man you were just talking to, "I've been expecting you. After all, your brother seems to lack the intellect to make decisions without his most brilliant advisor."

"Your flattery means nothing to me, demon." The princess spits, disheveled silver hair pouring over her frantic face, painted in makeup smeared from ticks of discomposure, "I've come to offer you a deal."

END OF THREAD 9

I'm looking forward to the next thread of eldritch horror isekai

>>6174678
Thanks for running!

Damn that sister must really hate her brother to be willing to make a deal with us
Another candidate to get us that draft at least
Lmao at this rate we’ll have the whole royal family going after it