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Chapter 241: Hatching & Foot Fetishism
Chapter 241: Hatching & Foot Fetishism
Chapter 241: Hatching & Foot Fetishism
Priam pulled aside the pavilion curtain and stepped inside. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of a dozen tables scattered around the Auction Altar. Each display case held no more than two or three items, all under glass domes. Compared to the overflowing market Ymir had shown during Priam’s first visit, things had certainly changed.
“Lord Azura, it’s always a pleasure to welcome you to my humble establishment.”
Priam smiled at the sound of Ymir's melodious voice as he approached with his graceful stride. The merchant clasped his hands in a ritual greeting, and Priam responded with a genuine smile.
“Merchant Ymir, the pleasure is mutual. I see you’ve redecorated?”
The elf smiled faintly, glancing behind him. “My mercantile instincts tell me that the tribes you’ve made deals with will soon arrive to trade.”
“Really?”
“Indeed. Rather than offering a familiar bazaar, I thought it would be interesting to break the mold. I asked Miss Rose to help renovate the place, and she introduced me to minimalism.”
Priam grimaced at the sight of the twenty or so items in the vast space. “I’ve never been a fan of that movement. When everything is neutral and bare, you lose the soul of the place.”
“When there are too many items on display, the buyer is paralyzed by the sheer number of options,” Ymir smiled. “With fewer choices, I can guide my potential clients to the items that suit them, increasing both my sales and the allure of this place. That’s what matters.”
“On that, we agree.” Thanks to Oasis’s commission on Auctions, Priam’s fortune was tied to the merchant's. “I was wondering if you could take me to Esmée?”“The princess awaits you,” Ymir smiled, leading Priam to the back of the pavilion. He pulled a bell and slid open a door. Priam’s mouth fell open in surprise. Last time, the door had led to a garden with an impressive variety of plants. Today, it opened to a small room. Esmée, seated at a desk, stood and curtsied upon seeing him.
“Duke Priam, I’ve been expecting you. Please, come in.”
Her charming smile contrasted with the formality of her words, and Priam found himself smiling back.
“Princess Esmée.”
“I’ll leave you two,” Ymir announced, exiting and closing the door behind him.
“Do you like the apartment?” Priam asked, looking around. The furniture belonged to Ymir’s collection, but Esmée had certainly chosen it herself, revealing much about her personality. The decor was minimal, and aside from a few plants, a desk, and a bed, the only notable feature was a thick, plush rug.
“Yes, thank you so much!” Esmée exclaimed, burying her bare feet in the carpet. “This rug is incredibly soft…”
Priam had to suppress a smile at his rival's childlike expression. He wiggled his toes in the fibers and had to admit she was right.
“It’s definitely softer than the grass outside.” With the three new artisans, Oasis had no more free cabins, and the interior of Log-a-rhythm wasn't suitable for the Moon Wyrm's mutation. When Ymir had offered to rent his guest room, Priam had immediately accepted. “Honestly, the rent is not expensive.”
At least, not for a Tier 0 capable of wiping out entire hordes of undead.
“Ymir is too shrewd to overcharge his Lord,” Esmée smiled. “Though I don’t understand why you refuse to let me pay for it myself.”
“And miss the chance to make you my debtor? No way,” Priam joked before explaining. “You’re my guest, so it’s my duty to house you; that’s how I was raised. By the way, do you have everything you need? I don’t see a bathroom.”
Esmée pointed to the sliding door through which Priam had entered. “I just have to think of the bathroom before opening the door, and the pavilion connects me there.”
“Really?!”
Priam’s curious mind made his hand move before he even thought. The door began to open before Esmée’s hand blocked it.
“I didn’t have time to tidy up,” the young woman blushed.
Out of the corner of his eye, Priam saw a small room with a wooden floor and a sink with a single bar of soap. Nearby, a clothes rack was drying some clothes and underwear. He closed the door, pretending he hadn't seen anything.
“Sorry, I acted without thinking.”
Esmée lowered her head, and Priam noticed the tips of her ears were red.
“Jasmine told me the egg is about to hatch?” Priam asked, trying to change the subject.
“Huh? Oh, yes, it’s already starting to stir. I had to play music to calm it.”
Priam raised an eyebrow as Esmée reopened the door. The bathroom had vanished, replaced by a small room with dark wooden walls. The gentle music of an invisible wind instrument created a serene atmosphere.
Priam’s gaze ignored the ambiance, focusing on the egg in the center of the room. Levitating about a meter off the ground, seven white spheres orbited around it like a miniature planetary system. This was possible thanks to an incredibly complex ritual covering the available space; tens of thousands of runes, most smaller than a grain of rice, formed the system’s matrix.
Assisted by his add-on and [Ideal Aether Perception], Priam tried to understand what was happening. Each rune was linked to ten others, exchanging, transferring, encoding, and modifying aether at high speed. His add-on was proficient at solving two-body problems but incapable of simulating the behavior of thousands of interacting runes. After a few seconds, Priam had to admit that while he had made monumental strides in understanding the aether alphabet, Esmée’s creation was beyond his capabilities.
“What exactly is the purpose of this ritual?” Priam disliked admitting his ignorance but hated staying ignorant even more.
“It’s a statistical manipulation ritual,” Esmée explained in a professional tone. “These seven spheres each come from famous Moons and are infused with certain Concepts related to the Moon Concept. The genes, aetheric code, and soul of a creature have a non-zero chance of mutating when they come into contact with a Concept. I manipulate these chances to force positive mutations.”
“So my Moon Wyrm will have properties from these Moons?”
Esmée shook her head. “Even with this ritual, which I’m very proud of, I can’t do that. What I can do is increase the egg’s affinity with Concepts superior to the Moon Concept—breaking the power ceiling your Moon Wyrm can aspire to. You seem disappointed?” the princess observed.
“I…” Priam grimaced. “I didn’t mean to sound rude, but it just seems like a very complicated ritual for a few affinity points.”
It was evident that the effort behind the ritual had been titanic, but the announced results didn’t impress him.
“You say that as if it’s easy, but boosting a soul’s natural affinity with a Concept is a nightmare without a Token or Merit. It requires an epiphany, a Concept Baptism, or the consumption of legendary resources.”
“There are other methods,” Priam pointed out. He had personally used at least three others, and Esmée’s ritual was a fourth.
“They are very rare, otherwise the Sun Shop wouldn’t sell Tier 0 Concept Baptisms for a quarter of a million points. Those Concepts are Tier 5s, unattainable for us Tier 0s, and there are seven of them.”
Priam nodded before freezing. If the Sun Shop used the numerical progression it employed in its price calculations, a Tier 4 Concept Baptism could only be bought by a Tier 3 user and cost ten million Sun points. Multiplied by seven…
“Wow! It’s that expensive to unlock a Wyrm’s potential?!”
Esmée seemed pleased that he finally appreciated the significance of her ritual. “An adult Moon Wyrm dominates Tier 4. However, it suffers from the same weakness as all naturally powerful creatures: it’s difficult for it to rise above its station.”
“I thought draconic creatures didn’t have that kind of problem?”
“Natural ones, maybe, but this one is a creation of the System, so it doesn’t get the full benefit of its draconic bloodline. Aydan asked Father for information, and from what he found, my brother’s Sun Wyrm is limited by its base Concept. The Soul Tier cannot exceed the Tier of the Concept it embodies or the stage of its Supremacy.”
“If I understand correctly, since its atavistic progression is a dead end, you have to mutate its core Concept to give it a future? As my Moon Wyrm will be limited by the Tier of the Moon Concept.”
“That’s what Empyrean scientists think. However, its core Concept hasn’t mutated; it’s still Moon. What I’ve done is point out several paths to Tier 5 Concepts. At adulthood, it will have a chance to evolve, but it’s not a certainty. You may have to further enhance its affinities—and that will cost much more than today because changing an adult’s destiny is more complicated than changing a child’s.”
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
Priam watched the egg spin, illuminated by the vibrant runes. “Makes sense. In any case, thank you for what you’ve done.”
“I always uphold my end of the bargain,” Esmée smiled. “You should step forward; the song is ending.”
Priam entered the room as the music softened. The runes around him dissipated into aether, which re-entered the princess's body.
Priam approached the egg and placed his hand on it. As if waiting for this moment, the shell cracked, and the top exploded, revealing a curious head. Two heterochromatic eyes, one white and the other black, fixed on Priam before the creature fully emerged.
A fusion of serpent, worm, and dragon, the creature was no more than twenty centimeters long. Powerful muscles lay beneath scales the same color as its eyes. Some scales changed color in real time, as if the wyrm hadn’t yet decided what it wanted to look like. It floated slowly towards Priam.
“Hello there,” the young man smiled, extending his hand gently. When his fingers touched the wyrm, it froze before coiling around his wrist like a monochrome bracelet. Priam felt his connection with his Holy Guardian strengthen. This bond was different from the one he shared with Log-a-rhythm. Less natural, it seemed artificial. Perhaps because this creature isn’t quite natural…
[Identification]
[Moon Wyrm (Mutated) - Tier 0 - Holy Guardian IV (T0)] - The Space Terror. Like the different phases of the Moon, this descendant of the Dragons is capable of changing its hunting methods. As elusive as the New Moon, as powerful as the Full Moon, it knows how to adapt to slay its prey.
This one is a clone created by the System to protect a Noble's territory. Its growth depends on its bloodline, opportunities, and the ritual binding it to its territory. Immune to the Necromoon curse, it is also resistant to the Necro Concept. Its artificial nature and connection to the System exempt it from Tribulation.
Evolution condition to Tier 1:
- Six months of growth (divided by four thanks to Holy Guardian IV, equaling 90 days)
Consuming draconic essence or a compatible Concept fragment accelerates its evolution. Number of available resurrections: 4
Natural affinity:
(Moon): 90% (50% (base) + 40%)
(?): ?%
Maximum potential: Marquess (Prince)
“She’s beautiful,” Esmée murmured behind him.
Priam nodded absently, gazing at his wyrm. He had a decision to make.
Each Gate of the Heavenly Dragon required a trophy, and this Moon Wyrm was a draconic creature aligned with the Moon Concept. In theory, its power was perfectly suited to [Revelation Resilience]. Yet, he hesitated to sacrifice a creature that looked at him with innocent eyes.
“…You’ll defend Oasis in my absence, won’t you?” Priam smiled, gently scratching the tiny wyrm’s head.
The creature chirped, making both rivals smile. Priam’s heart softened. My path to the Zenith will be bloody, but killing innocents who rely on me… That’s not me. Besides, it wouldn’t really be a trophy, would it?
Esmée's POV
“You want my help to locate the Terrors of Valaryth?”
Sitting at the edge of the couch, Esmée watched her rival play with his new pet. He didn’t seem bothered by sharing the sofa with her. If her brother had seen them like this, he’d have surely called her a tramp. Or maybe not; he is too afraid of Priam to open his mouth.
“Please,” Priam replied, looking at her. His wyrm, feeling neglected, chirped to grab his attention. The young man smiled before continuing, “The ocean is too vast for me to waste time finding them.”
“You possess a draconic bloodline different from theirs; they’ll come to you,” Esmée pointed out.
“Some Terrors are too powerful for me. I want to be the hunter, not the prey.”
Esmée filed that information away. It had been a while since she’d divined Priam’s exact status, but she knew he was one of the most adaptable rivals and the second hardest to kill. If he wasn’t deterred by a Tier 3 necro legionnaire but preferred to avoid these Terrors...
“Are they that dangerous?”
“Hard to say without a real fight, but my instincts tell me they’re the most dangerous opponents I’ve ever faced. Almost,” his brows furrowed before he shook his head, dispelling a thought. “In any case, they’re extremely powerful and possess a very pure draconic bloodline.”
“Trapped for millennia in a ruined world, unable to Tier up, they push the limits of what’s possible at Tier 1,” Esmée understood.
“Which makes them perfect trophies,” Priam added with a grin. “But only if I can find them.”
Esmée tucked a strand of white-gold hair behind her ear. “I’m willing to help…” As she said it, her royal training kicked in. “But what do I get in return?”
The question barely left her mouth before she regretted it. What an idiot! He’s going to think I see our relationship as purely transactional.
“My gratitude?” Priam winked.
Esmée felt butterflies in her stomach. “Okay.”
Priam seemed surprised before returning a genuine smile. The wyrm took advantage of the silence to start exploring the couch. Esmée extended her hand and was surprised when the creature approached to sniff her with its forked tongue. It must have found her scent pleasing because it began to slither up her arm, tickling her in the process.
“She likes you,” Priam observed.
“I like her too. She’s cool to the touch; it’s refreshing,” the princess marveled, stroking the wyrm.
A comfortable silence settled before Priam broke it. “You know, if you need help, you can ask me.”
“...I could use help with my Tribulations,” she admitted after a few seconds of hesitation.
Her rival shot her a surprised look. “I don’t think I can interfere with the System yet.”
“That’s not what I’m asking,” Esmée reassured him. “My way of fighting is more that of a strategist or general than a soldier: I use the world to fight my Tribulations for me. The trouble is, Elysium is dangerous.”
“You want to trigger them in Valaryth instead of Elysium,” Priam realized. “No problem. Is that all?”
“If a dangerous variable appears, I would like your help to fend it off. I’ll have my hands full with my Tribulations without worrying about the Terrors.”
Of course, Esmée planned to take precautions, but she knew better than anyone that fate could be fickle.
“I don’t really mind, but is that allowed by the System?”
“It’s my way of fighting, so yes. During my first Tribulation, I turned my enemies into shields by placing them between me and the danger,” Esmée revealed, scratching the wyrm to their mutual delight.
“Your first... You’ve only passed one Tribulation so far?” Esmée nodded. “But then, how many are you triggering this time?”
“Like you, five.”
As a reward for her first Tribulation, Esmée had simply chosen to delay her other Tribulations by a month. She would face them soon, but even the most powerful would be only her sixth Tribulation. Compared to Priam, who was up to nine, she was relatively confident.
Priam scrutinized her before smiling. “It’s a good plan but why not go up to six?”
Esmée observed her rival's teasing eyes.
“You’re only joking half joking, aren’t you?”
“If I were in your shoes, I think I’d try it,” Priam admitted. The prospect of a title higher than mythical would have made him greedy.
“I don't have any shoes,” Esmée pointed out, wiggling her toes. She had taken them off to enjoy the softness of the carpet.
“That's the first thing I noticed.” Priam grimaced at his own words. “Wait, that's not what I meant!”
Status:
PHYSICAL:
Strength 707
Constitution 1 105
Agility 773
Vitality 1 040
Perception 766
MENTAL:
Vivacity (D) 570
Dexterity 656
Memory 842
Willpower 1 163
Charisma 692
META:
Meta-affinity 799
Meta-focus 409
Meta-endurance 617
Meta-perception 339
Meta-chance 274
Meta-authority 216
Potential: 13 607
Tier 0
Sun points: 1 480 545 (+1 639)
[He Who Eludes Death] charge: PRIMED
[Tribulation]: Five Tribulations pending.
Future Tribulations delayed until:
Time: 153 days 15 hours 12 minutes 30 seconds.
Next thresholds: 12 attributes > 600 / 6 attributes > 900 / 1 attribute > 1 200