Priam
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Chapter 446: Meet the Peanut Gallery
🕑 Added 2025-12-23 11:50:32 +0000 UTCMore coming asap
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*
Beneath a moon smothered by clouds, a forest of dead trees sheltered hungry ghouls and ghosts in search of the unfortunate souls they could terrorize. Today, none of them would be fed.
With one exception. Blueberry had no intention of leaving on an empty stomach.
The bear frowned as he sensed the tainted air. Ever since he had learned that taste was linked to smell, he had paid particular attention to that sense. To the point that he had decided to take a yearly shower.
The sound of a crack made him turn. In her miniature form, Sphinx had stepped on a twig.
“Sorry,” she said sheepishly.
Blueberry shrugged and resumed walking. His paw came down on a fallen tree trunk and snapped it clean in two. The noise could have woken the dead.
Which was exactly what happened.
After a few minutes of massacring undead with claws—his fangs being reserved for rare steak—the two companions continued on their way, chatting.
“What has two legs at noon and only one in the evening?” Sphinx asked.
“A mermaid?”
“No! Kazuki after losing his leg to Leo.”
Blueberry grimaced. “Damn.”
“Another one: what has two legs at noon and four in the evening?”
“A tired bear.”
“Bzzt! The right answer was: a happy spouse. Jasmine taught me that one.”
“Alright, enough riddles,” Blueberry growled.
A few minutes later, Sphinx froze.
“I feel something like a vibrating string. It’s very close,” the child warned.
Using Sphinx’s karmic powers to locate their next meal was a stroke of genius if Blueberry could say so himself.
A hundred meters later, they reached an artificial clearing, in the sense that it was a crater caused by a projectile hitting the ground at high speed. The projectile being a body.
Blueberry stepped closer to sniff it, then let out a relieved sigh.
“Praise the System, he’s dead.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if he were alive?” Sphinx asked.
“Fresher,” Blueberry admitted. “But this saves us the trouble of killing him ourselves.” He inspected the corpse. “Pointy ears, disappointing fur, and opposable thumbs… An elf. Male, judging by the shriveled appendage.”
It was hard being compared to a giant bear.
“Oh.” Sphinx lay down on the ground.
“Problem?”
“Priam told me not to eat humanoids. That’s cannibalism.”
“Only if you’re a biped,” Blueberry reassured her. Seeing that the child still hesitated, he pointed at the corpse. “Alright, I’m going to show you something, but you absolutely must not tell anyone.”
“A secret?!”
“Yep. What’s a humanoid?”
She frowned. “A living being with two legs, two arms, and a head?”
“Exactly.” In four swipes of his claws, Blueberry turned the corpse into a torso. “Now, what has a head and a body, but no limbs?”
Sphinx only needed a few seconds. “A worm!”
“And are we allowed to eat worms?”
“Yes!”
Blueberry nodded, proud of his friend. “Alright. Go prepare the fire. I’ll handle the cooking.”
*
The phantom burst like a soap bubble. Erased by the System as if it were a bad dream. For all its power, the ghost had only been Tier 0.
Standing back up in the now-silent arena, Priam realized he was once again wearing his boxer shorts and shook his head. The underwear had vanished when he transformed into Pyro’s avatar, but it hadn’t gone far. Credit where credit was due, 2die4 was a quality brand.
Dusting sand off his ass, the Champion headed for the exit, then froze. To his right, a long table had just appeared. Far from IKEA-style, the banquet altar was monarchic, all marble and gilt, with important-looking people seated against high-backed chairs. Presiding over the assembly, a being darker than a black hole beckoned him closer. Speak of the devil…
Priam sighed and complied.
“Try to hide your joy at seeing me,” the Administrator smirked.
“Permission to be honest?”
“Permission granted.”
“You’re that friend who rings my doorbell at ten p.m. to drag me out partying when I’m already under the covers.”
Back when his legs hadn’t carried him faster than a V8 engine, Priam had been a serious homebody.
“At least I’m your friend!” Thaal winked. “Don’t worry, I won’t keep you long. Your body may have been healed by Keltan’h, but your mind needs rest.”
“Several hours of adrenaline infusion have wrung his brain dry,” added a floating squid. Despite resembling Cthulhu, their voice was as gentle as a child’s. The contrast unsettled Priam.
“And you are?” the Champion asked.
“Seuz—”
“A member of the 2die4 creative panel,” Thaal cut in. “Like everyone present today. We’ve gathered to discuss the potential introduction of another face for the brand.”
Priam rubbed his temples. “Dude, I have [Polyglot], and I still have no idea what you’re talking about. What are you on about?”
“Your partner. Everyone loves a dark horse story, but people love it even more when there’s romance in the air. I can already see the sales boost from a couple shoots!” Thaal pointed at Priam. “So, when you finally stop relying on your left hand, you’ll have to choose between Jasmine and Esmée. Want my opinion?”
“Not really.”
“Take both!” someone laughed. Feet on the table, he rocked back in his chair like a middle schooler. One glance was enough for Priam to detect a draconic bloodline.
“I advise against making a choice,” Seuz interjected. Marketing analytics indicate that positioning every female as a prospective exclusive partner yields the highest level of consumer engagement.”
“That’s a dick move,” Thaal pointed out with a sigh. “Fine. If that’s what it takes to boost sales, you can keep jerking off.”
Priam stared at the Tier 8 for several seconds before sighing. “Fuck. I thought you were messing with me, but you’re selling boxers for real, right?”
“Anything to pass the time,” the Primordial smiled.
“I guess immortality needs hobbies. Is the brand doing well?”
Seuz waved their tentacles, making a sheet from the System appear. A non-combattant perk. “2die4 has experienced a ten thousand percent growth in the last month alone. To kickstart the brand, the Primordial Gambler even rented a thousand stars so your image could be projected into that many stellar systems.”
Priam growled. “People see my face when they look at their sun? You’re shitting me.”
“Not at all.” A streak of yellow rippled through the squid’s blue skin. Amusement. “Why do you think you’re the highest-paid spokesperson in the Sector?”
“I’m not paid,” Priam grunted.
Thaal coughed and gestured for a colossus to stand. “You’re paid in exposure.”
“Can I eat that?” the Champion shot back.
“No, but it’s the groundwork for Tier 6—”
Priam stopped listening when he saw the giant offer him his chair. Direct sunlight reflected off the metallic skin of a very familiar face.
Wang Lin raised an eyebrow at Priam’s surprise. The Juggernaut hesitated for a fraction of a second, then tapped his heart, thumb folded. A Mercenary salute, from junior to veteran. He hadn’t forgotten the Tier 5 tutoring during his dreamlike Tribulations.
“Thanks for the seat.”
“…The show you gave us more than earns it,” replied the half-titan, half-phoenix, his tone heavy with subtext.
Priam nodded his thanks and sat.
“A panel of visibility experts, my ass.” Speaking this crudely to a Primordial was most often an exotic way to die, but something in Thaal’s voice and body language kept Priam from being on guard. Worse, he was both aware of it and powerless to stop it. “I thought the Colosseum respected my privacy.”
“Oops. Busted.” The Administrator pulled a tie from under the table and put it on. “As a representative of the System, I assure you that you will not be wronged.” A sheet appeared in his hand. “I’m reading here a precedent for amicable resolution in cases like this: increasing the value of your rewards.” He flipped it over. The sheet was blank. “Let’s see… Increasing the purity of a high bloodline by three to four percent should do the trick.”
A hand slammed onto the table. The moon trembled. Not the table.
“It would seem I displeased the Primordial,” said a bird wreathed in fiery plumage. Priam did not need to feel the ichor boiling in his veins to identify her race.
“You think I planned everything from the start?” Thaal smiled. “Not even close. I’m just playing the hand Fate deals me.”
“Then I can only lament my bad luck…”
For some reason, the Primordial licked his lips.
“As if someone had forced you to violate an NDA you signed fifteen minutes earlier,” laughed the polygamy enthusiast from before.
Priam watched the provocateur grab an amber bottle. With shoulders too broad for most doorways, the draconoid held a faun under one arm, her fingers tracing the inked skin of his bare chest. Each of his minuscule scales was vividly colored, forming a mosaic that depicted a strangely familiar helix. A kind of Janet spiral. Shit, those aren’t tattoos, but chemical elements.
The stranger bore an enhanced periodic table running from his neck down to his hips. Priam counted at least fifty atoms unknown to humanity for they were too unstable, too ephemeral. A link to his Myth? His Concept? His Body Tempering?
“Take a holo, it’ll last longer,” growled the drake as he finished his bottle.
Priam grimaced. “Sorry. You just seem familiar.”
“Ah!” The drake burst out laughing. “I’m fairly well known.”
Sweeping the table with his gaze, Priam took stock of the guests. All were remarkable, but aside from Thaal, four stood out in particular. Beyond the draconoid, there was the squid who traded in suns, the cold phoenix, and a gnome dusted in a fine white powder. Judging by her dilated pupils, Priam was only half sure it was flour.
If even Wang Lin, local Mercenary leader and Tier 5, looked unimpressive beside these august figures, the Champion could make an educated guess as to their identities.
“You’re one of the Immortals of the Hope Sector.” Recognizing the familiar features, Priam added, “From Aarthash’s family.”
“Bingo! His father, Hastenash Riusling,” introduced the Tier 7, popping open another bottle with a claw. “What did you think of my favorite son?”
He’s an idiot. And frankly pathetic for dedicating his life to killing a phantom only to fail at the end.
That’s what Priam wanted to say. Faced with a Tier 7 father, he opted for diplomacy.
“He was strong. Stronger than me.” For now. “But too arrogant.”
“When you’re truly powerful, that’s not arrogance, it’s pride,” Hastenash pointed out between gulps. “A sin stoked by his blood. Don’t judge him too harshly. You might be worse than him once the purity of your draconic bloodline reaches his level. The dragon’s curse spares no one. Myself included.”
As Priam well knew. For every gift it bestowed, the draconic bloodline exacted its price by exacerbating its bearer’s flaws. Since the wyvern heart graft, the Champion had been forced to acknowledge how difficult it had become to spend his resources, preferring instead to hoard them. During the tournament, his anger toward the tribes had taken an irrational turn. Recently, he had even struggled to fend off Jasmine’s advances…
“Judging by your face, you know exactly what I’m talking about,” grunted the drake, raising his drink. “It only gets worse. Trust me.”
“I acknowledge the facts… but I doubt the cause.” Priam shook his head. “Why would the first dragons curse their descendants?”
“Why is your skin so soft?” the drunk shot back between swigs. “That’s just nature.”
“Except I do everything I can to change it. I find it hard to believe a Tier 10 couldn’t fix that.”
Priam didn’t know how bloodlines were created, but if Hydra had reached the Zenith, he found it hard to believe the progenitor of a Supreme One would fall short.
“I suffered, so you’ll suffer too,” quoted the drake before emptying his bottle. “Petty, sure, but we’re talking about beasts who ate their siblings to grow stronger and engraved that trait into their bloodline. You know what it’s like to eat your family, kid?” he smirked, scanning the room for more booze. “I do.”
Priam refused to be intimidated. “Or maybe no one ever asked you to eat your family, and it was simply a tribulation,” he said, grabbing a nearby bottle. He waited to see desire flare in the drake’s eyes before handing it over. “A sort of mind tempering.”
The drake narrowed his eyes, then succumbed to his sin. Gluttony? No, envy.
“You’re an optimist, aren’t you? Life’s going to kick you in the balls piñata-style until you change your mind.” Hastenash looked at the bottle in his hand, then hurled it behind him. The glass shattered against the sand, which absorbed every drop of liquid. He could fight some sins better than others. “You got proof for what you’re claiming? Because on my end, I can tell you that even Tier 9s haven't overcome this plague. Just look at the story of the lustful idiot who thought it would be smart to cuckold the first Primordial Ace. A month later, the Myth of the Dragonslayer echoed across the multiverse.” The ambient aether froze for a moment to honor the Zenith Title. “The dragon curse is absolute.”
“And yet, I’ve met a true dragon who—”
Thaal coughed. “Yeah, let’s not talk about her. Them. I’m too old to die.”
Vertex, They Who Cannot Be Named.
*
Hastenash - Immortal - envious drake
Comments
Samuel Sever
tftc
Zaim İpek
My guess is that Vertex is definitely not from Sector Hope, or else the tier-0 colloseum records would have been beaten. I wonder how they ended up hiding in Valaryth?
Mad Undead
I assume the only reason thaal a t8 chose to avoid the topic of vertex a t1 it's because of her father, aka the Dragon slayer
