Priam
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Chapter 424: A Bite of the Juggernaut
🕑 Added 2025-10-19 11:35:47 +0000 UTCPS: Priam Character Sheet
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Eleha gripped the balcony railing so tightly her knuckles whitened. Without it, her hands would have shaken. Shameful for a Tier 3, though not as shameful as waking every night screaming from nightmares where she faced Dishnu again. In those dreams, the Champion always won, buried her alive, and used her body as an aether battery to grow his plants.
The mockery of the other hunters had long since turned to disdain, then irritation when she disturbed their sleep. They couldn’t understand. No one could, unless they had felt the roots of a demonic flower crawl through their veins, burrow into their organs, and drink their blood and energy.
Feeling her breath hitch, Eleha forced her lungs open and tried to redirect her thoughts. On the eve of the Aelbe exodus, her personal traumas mattered little.
“Dear little niece.”
The huntress turned and bowed before Felix, one of the clan’s three Transcendents. His lack of combat ability didn’t diminish the respect he commanded. His charisma was so high he could order a Tier 0 to kill themselves, and they would have no choice but to obey. Shame Priam’s attributes are too high for that.
“Grand-uncle. You wanted to see me.”
“Indeed.” Felix stepped closer, his expression somber as he watched the long line of tribespeople packing their belongings. “I want you to find someone. Rose, a teenage girl from Oasis. She should be inside the Demiurge’s inner world.”
Eleha’s eyes widened. “Nothing escapes a Tier 5’s senses within their own world—”
“Wrong. And besides, I doubt he’ll intervene. You see that Tal Quercus?”
It would have been hard not to see it. The tree was so colossal that its shadow engulfed the manor’s entire courtyard.
“The tomb of a royal bloodline member. Priam brought it here to trap us, and we can’t strike back without offending the elves. But using a prince’s corpse to corner us is itself an insult to Hekthorn. And now Priam’s using it as a transport vessel to evacuate the weak.”
Felix turned to her, voice low and sharp.
“I need Rose as a hostage.”
Eleha’s hands trembled again. Three Tier 4s against three Champions. Why would her grand-uncle think they needed a hostage?
A calloused hand settled gently on her shoulder.
“Léo is weakening,” Felix admitted. “The radioactive poison eats at him, and Griffe can do little to help. The Shadow has vanished, but the Juggernaut, the General, the Guardian, and possibly the Tyrant, remain. Things are shifting among the Gaeserts as well… and Sna is prowling.”
“The hyenas that once cowered seem to find courage when they smell blood,” Eleha spat.
“The law of the jungle,” sighed Felix, locking eyes with her. “I’m counting on you.”
“If Priam or Kazuki see me leave…”
There was a tremor in her voice, one that shamed her. She might be willing to die for her clan, but she refused to throw her last life away in vain.
“Disguise yourself, put on makeup, and wear this amulet.” Her uncle handed her a pendant she recognized as an artifact designed to mask the weight of one’s soul. It normally required a meta-perception milestone to gauge another’s Soul Tier, but she would underestimate the Champions no more. “Blend in with the others, and everything will be fine. For the clan.”
“For the clan.”
*
Thirty minutes later, the refugee column was leaving the manor. The silence was heavy, but Eleha understood why no one felt like talking. Her people had lived their whole lives in the wild biomes of the Wandering Islands. Abandoning that nomadic way for a sedentary life in an elven city felt like defeat. The Necromoon’s threat made the decision necessary, but not easier to swallow.
A pack of rations on her back, Eleha trudged forward. When the person ahead of her passed through a breach in the dimensional barrier, she glimpsed an elf waiting just beyond.
Thyvael, apprentice to the High Marshal.
Seeing her, the elf raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Eleha stifled a sigh of relief. There really was a rift between Priam and the Demiurge.
“Follow the others,” Thyvael instructed. “The mist is thick, so don’t stray from the path.”
Eleha nodded silently and stepped through the breach. At once, a damp chill clung to her, and the huntress shuddered. It felt as though the master of this fog was brushing his fingers along her skin. The mist was so dense it blocked even her heightened perception.
Aware she was being watched, Eleha forced herself to lower her gaze, focusing on one step after another in a monotonous rhythm that numbed her mind. The oppressive silence didn’t help.
“I wonder what an elven city looks like,” muttered the clansman walking beside her. A tanner.
Eleha knew she should have stayed quiet, but the absence of sound was unnerving.
“No idea. Safe, I hope. If the Empire falls to the necro hordes…”
“I doubt that’ll happen.”
What did a tanner know about it? Eleha bit back the retort. Dishnu had taught her restraint.
“You know something?”
“The Seven won’t allow an entire region to fall. Not when we’re on the brink of war with another universe.”
“With two others,” Eleha corrected automatically, then froze.
Even children knew the Seven would never forgive the Faith God’s betrayal. That single slip revealed more inconsistencies.
The silhouette ahead of her had been repeating the same movements for too long. Beside her, the tanner was walking just outside her Domain. Moreover, his steps flowed with the grace of [Movement Virtuoso], a signature skill of Aelbe hunters. No craftsman could unlock it.
“Really? Which ones—”
Eleha’s claws flashed as she lunged at the impostor without warning. Spectral scales shimmered along her target’s arm, slowing her swipe. Instead of slicing through the limb, her razor-sharp nails anchored deep. Refusing to let her foe vanish into the fog, she sank her fangs into his shoulder. Her teeth, sharp enough to rend steel, struggled to pierce the muscles.
At such a close range, the mist no longer hid her opponent’s identity. His appearance was unchanged from their first encounter. As a mouthful of blood spilled down her throat, Eleha saw Priam’s clouded eyes and froze. She changed her mind: the Champion had been tempered by new, harrowing experiences.
“You really shouldn’t have done that.”
Before Eleha could question the threat, dizziness swept through her. Something was devouring her from within. My stomach… Is his blood—?
She tried to unclench her jaws, but the Champion’s kinetic skill clamped her like a vice. Then, two fingers pinched her nose shut. Deprived of air, Eleha gasped through her mouth, and another surge of blood flooded in.
“My resentful nature made me rehearse our reunion many times… but it’s nowhere near as cathartic as I imagined. This vengeance tastes bitter.” Priam frowned. “Still, I’ll take it. For Kazuki, a friend you nearly killed because you couldn’t stand a Tier 0 looking you in the eyes. End of monologue: blood is fire.”
Eleha’s mother once told her that few things hurt more than giving birth. Her daughter screamed as she delivered a star.
*
Priam released the corpse from its kinetic prison as Pyro’s flames died down. Grimacing, he plucked the four canines still buried in his shoulder and tossed them onto the heap of ash and bone at his feet. All that remained of Eleha. Even her amulet hadn’t survived the blaze. The trinket had crumbled into a fine black dust that tickled his nostrils.
“Tier 3 or not, a speedster trapped in close quarters with a tank is a bad matchup,” Priam muttered, turning back toward the line of the Aelbe refugees. The column was barely a hundred meters away as Eleha had sensed his trap before he could lure her far enough from the civilians. That proximity had convinced him to accept two minor wounds in exchange for a quick, clean kill.
Things could have turned ugly if the huntress had chosen to hit and run—or simply run. [Heroic Identification] estimated she was three times faster than he was. But she’d underestimated me.
Eyes sharp, Priam resumed scanning each emigrant with his fate sight. He still struggled to parse the meaning behind what he saw, but one truth held: the stronger the individual, the more solid the image of their fate appeared. Through that lens, the Tier 3s stood out among the refugees. Then, finding spies was only a matter of inspecting the image itself, as an artisan’s fate was rarely as violent as that of a warrior.
The disdainful panther that inhabited Eleha’s heart had raised his suspicion, especially when his meta-perception pegged her soul at Tier 2, a contradiction that screamed deception.
Still, rather than risk killing an innocent, Priam had invoked one of the Merits of [The Five Ages of Man - Hero].
Galahad blesses your eyes; once per week, you may see the truth.
His Aura had poured into his eyes, transforming his sight into that of a hero. Very little escaped such a sharp gaze. The amulet’s veil had lifted, revealing the impostor, and Priam had quietly joined the procession. The rest was history.
Twenty minutes later, Thyvael approached, moving easily through the mist.
“The last of the Aelbes have entered my master’s world.”
“Good. Thank you for taking them in.”
“You didn’t leave us much choice,” the elf replied, frowning. “I still don’t understand your logic. Trading a Demiurge’s favor for the lives of your enemies seems… foolish.”
“I’m getting tired of justifying myself,” sighed Priam. “Am I a hypocrite buying redemption after destroying a clan, or an idealist refusing to kill innocents? The truth’s probably somewhere in between.” He shrugged. “Before you go, do you know who my Tal Quercus was, originally?”
“You mean, the elf it grew from? No. Our Empress has no harem, but after a hundred thousand years of rule, her descendants are numerous.”
“I figured. Still, I have a few clues that might help. Someone told me my tree grew over the bodies of its two fathers. Ring any bells?”
Thyvael arched an eyebrow. “Surely you know a homosexual pairing can’t produce offspring. At least, not with elven physiology. Whoever told you that is an idiot.”
“Considering it came from a pureblood dragon who also happens to be a Monarch,” Priam said evenly, “I wouldn’t call them that.”
He nearly burst out laughing as all color drained from the elf’s face.
*
The door to Léo’s chamber creaked open, releasing a cloud of foul air. Felix forced himself not to grimace at the pungent mix of medicinal herbs and metallic tang. Griffe’s mixtures could ease their leader’s suffering, but not cure him.
“Eleha is dead,” Felix announced as he stepped inside.
“The amulet?” asked Griffe, rinsing her hands. The water in the basin ran crimson.
“Burned. He must’ve inhaled the fumes.”
“Perfect. Let him taste his own poison.”
Felix’s lips thinned. Handling radioactive materials was a serious crime. Not forbidden by the Seven or the System, but by just about everyone else.
A rasping voice rose from the shadows hiding the bed. “The clan owes her, and her honor’s intact. Did she learn anything useful?”
“Nothing, except that the Champions seem to know very little about the war that’s coming. Ironic, since they'll be the first scouts.”
“If they survive today,” Claw growled. “Still, you’re right. Wouldn’t surprise me if they’re thrown onto Mageia the moment the second Reunion ends.”
Felix didn’t take the bait. As a descendant of Aelbe, he knew better than anyone that the Champions would soon have to lead an invasion. It was the only way to gather enough resources to sustain their faction, their civilization, and their meteoric growth.
The low hum of the dimensional barrier cut through his thoughts. It was time to weigh their fates against the Champions’.
“Let’s go—” A fit of coughing wracked Léo as he rose, his body slick with a film of sweat. “Griffe,” he rasped, “give me your best drug.”
“Léo…”
“If I’m going to die,” he said, eyes burning with feverish pride, “let my pyre burn high.”
The Transcendent did not intend to go alone.
*
Status:
PHYSICAL:
Strength 1 259
Constitution 2 313
Agility 1 659
Vitality 2 233
Perception 988
MENTAL:
Vivacity (D) 666
Dexterity 988
Memory 1 229
Willpower 1 310
Charisma 1 117
META:
Meta-affinity (O) 1 474
Meta-focus 906
Meta-endurance 1 697
Meta-perception 929
Meta-chance 1 621
Meta-authority 1044
Potential: 42 444
Tier 0
[Tribulation]: Five Tribulations pending.
Next thresholds: 12 attributes > 1 200 / 3 attributes > 1 800 / 1 attribute > 2 400
*
Young Eleha
Comments
Jason Hardman
As soon as I saw him breathing in the fumes from the amulet I was thinking poison. They clearly don't know he's resistant though. It will be a nice surprise for them.
Andrew
Thank you!
Bladehawk256
Giving Priam even more ideal prerequisites? Quite bold! Please let one of them be snarky about the caloric density of radioactive matter and how he's grown even fatter or something lmao
Derze
Dude…let’s gooo
