Elysium's Multiverse

Chapter 44

Riven slowly opened his eyes after the much-needed nap. The blue mana potion Athela had taken from Jalel’s bag was being gently poured over his lips to slide down his throat. His head was propped up against that same bag, and she was watching him wide-eyed like a child on Christmas while remaining completely silent.

The headache quickly cleared as he accepted the rest of the potion, nodding to her in appreciation. “Thanks.”

“Not a problem! Just glad you’re okay!” The spider raised both of her front legs and chuckled with that usual chittering noise of hers, squinting and looking rather pleased with herself.

They were still in the alley, with mist dampening their bloodstained clothes and the body of a harpy not far off on the narrow path, though Athela had made sure to create an intricate pattern of webbing overhead to block any potential flyers from diving down. Riven was rather impressed by it. Not only for the protection, but for the shade it cast on them as well.

Jalel was gone, only a puddle of blood where he’d been before. Otherwise the damage wrought upon the surrounding area was evident by the torn-up stone alley and scattered dead harpies.

“I’m glad you’re okay!” Athela whispered again, following up with another chittering laugh. Her legs trembled slightly, and she nodded to herself and pushed her head up against Riven in an action of affection that Riven would have thought to be very uncharacteristic of spiders. “We’re okay now. It’s all okay…”

Riven’s body remained a little stiff, and his rib cage ached from where he’d met the harpy in a head-on collision, but he’d be fine.

The sounds of crunching, tearing, and chomping reached Riven’s ears—causing him to furrow his brow and slowly turn his head to get a better look behind him. When he saw the huge flaming demon chowing down on pieces of harpy, he smirked and pushed himself into a sitting position. “Athela, have you met Azmoth yet?”

The arachnid proudly turned her head and chittered over her shoulder at the brute. “Yes! We talked while you were sleeping. He’s a very nice young man!”

Riven had to suppress a laugh at that one and kept a straight face. “Nice young man? Really now… Wait, Azmoth talked to you?”

“Of course!”

“He doesn’t talk to me. He just grunts.”

“It’s because he knows I’m royalty.”

“Because you’re a princess?”

“Mmm-hmm. Mortals like you are too beneath him to speak to.”

Riven rolled his eyes, but the Hellscape Brutalisk overheard them and turned their way with a swivel of his head. Azmoth relinquished his flames; he currently had a mouth full of harpy guts, but the hunched-over demon gave a slight nod to Riven before resuming his feasting—clawed hands digging into the corpse of one of the harpies to rip out a bloody liver.

Riven didn’t buy Athela’s story one bit. “He really doesn’t seem like much of a talker.”

“He is, though!”

“Prove it.”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Because!”

Riven just shook his head, not wanting to bother with her shenanigans any longer, and gave her some pets before getting up. “Ready to finish the quest? Assuming that there aren’t any more harpies around…”

Athela looked back into the mists and nodded. “There are definitely more…I’ve seen them flying around, but they’re all juveniles and below level 5. None of them have been coming near us ever since I told them I’d cut them if they came.”

“You told them you’d cut them?”

“I also threatened their mamas. THEY FEAR MEEE!” Athela wiggled her front legs around in exaggerated fashion.

“I see.” Riven glanced over at Azmoth, raising an eyebrow, and hiked a thumb the demon’s way. “Are you sure it isn’t because he’s here?”

The arachnid folded her front legs with an arrogant humph. “Nope. It was definitely me waving my legs around threateningly screaming into the mists that I’d cut them if they decided to try again.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Not all monsters are created equal, Riven!”

The arachnid swatted her large thorax and started another ridiculous dance, but the comment gave Riven pause. He studied Azmoth for a time, with his obvious assets for killing in the forms of fire, metallic plates, hulking muscles, and four clawed arms…and he slowly nodded. Her assessment was dead-on. He wasn’t absolutely sure of how everything worked here in Elysium, but if numerous harpies were avoiding one level 2 demon despite outnumbering and outleveling him…this screamed to him that levels likely didn’t mean everything.

Hell, Azmoth’s stat percentage bonuses and stat rewards per level up alone were enough to testify to that. It made Riven wonder why a leveling system was even in place, because levels could be incredibly skewed across the board just on what he’d seen thus far. Was there a reason or rhyme to this?

He turned back to the dancing spider and pushed his hands into his pockets. “Athela, did you get to look at this bag at all?”

She stopped dancing and glared up at him. “You were using it as a pillow. I was only able to look at part of it without waking you up.”

He nodded in acknowledgment. “All right. It’s pretty large…but we can sort through it later, and I can take turns with Azmoth carrying it. Let’s go finish this stupid quest and get out of here. I don’t ever want to see this place again.”

He picked up the large bag Jalel had insisted on bringing, grunting slightly at how heavy it was, and began to follow Athela out.

Athela skipped over to Azmoth and poked him on one of his plated, muscular legs. “Hey, Azmoth! Time to go!”

Azmoth finished ripping off a harpy thigh, tore into it with his jaws, and swallowed the fresh, messy meat before grinning back at them. Blood dripped down his face, and the rippling muscles of the demon bulged underneath the heavy obsidian plates of his body as Azmoth rose off the ground and burst into flames with a nod of his head and a guttural growl.

The deep, bestial noise the demon made put Riven on edge. The thing was huge, intimidating, and far beyond what he would have ever thought possible in terms of acquiring it so early in this new world. Or probably ever, actually.

With a command for Azmoth to take the lead, Athela and Riven followed behind at a short distance—warily glancing around the dimly lit area as shadows silently moved above them in the mist. Once more they even caught sight of a harpy’s wing overhead through the red mist, accompanied by a high-pitched screech, but it never made a move on them.

Feeling relatively safer after having added a tank to their party, Riven was finally able to relax. “Athela, we need to get indoors somewhere and set up a temporary base… We don’t know what’s in this bag, and we need to figure out if any of it can be useful.”

“Agreed, comrade Riven!” Athela replied enthusiastically with a skip in her step.

Riven snorted with amusement. “You’re ridiculous.”

A couple more steps into the mist over the smooth cobblestone blocks, and he saw the first signs of their destination. Riven’s eyes widened at the size of the statue, and he really couldn’t believe that he hadn’t seen it before even with the thick mist in between.

First was the giant battle-axe. It was granite, was dozens of yards across, and was planted firmly in the ground—blades down, penetrating from a shadow above. As they progressed farther through the mist, the rest of the statue shortly appeared.

It was modeled after a confident-looking man with a neatly trimmed beard, pointed ears, and intricate, curved armor. His long hair was carved to look like it was majestically swaying out to his left as he looked out into the distance on his right. He held the shaft of his axe in both hands, resting his gauntleted hands on the weapon, and his armor had a symbol of a sun plastered across the breastplate. It was even what Riven would describe as awe-inspiring and was definitely out of place considering everything else around here had literally gone to hell.

It stood nearly five stories high, was well carved, and despite the moss was relatively well preserved compared to everything else in the city. But what caught Riven’s attention most was the small altar at the bottom of the statue in between the warrior-elf’s armored feet. The rectangular altar stood about three feet high and had two gleaming crystals hovering in the air, shimmering in and out of existence repetitively while the baseball-sized objects seemed to call out to him.

“Do you see those?!” Athela exclaimed excitedly while pointing—jabbing one foot toward the shimmering crystals ahead of them. “Are those the prizes?!”

Riven cocked an eyebrow and glanced at a harpy that’d perched far up, along the statue’s outstretched arms between the body and the axe shaft, shrugging as he did. “I’d guess you’re right… Let’s get them so we can leave.”

“Indeed!” Athela exclaimed, rapidly poking Riven in the shin and skipping forward to follow the other demonic familiar toward the elevated stone altar. “Can’t wait!”

Riven chuckled at the humming noises Athela made and quickly pursued her, coming up beside her at the altar a minute later and observing the shimmering crystals in closer detail. Each of them was ethereal, with both of them being labeled as Quest Crystals.

The crystals shattered upon deliverance of the notification, each of them dissolving into dust to reveal two new items. One was a cloak, and the other was a mask. There was also a new bag of twenty-five bronze coins, which he placed in his backpack before inspecting the other prizes.

The cloak looked rather heavy; it was made from a thick brown cloth and was lined with fur along the outer rim. It had a hood that came up along the top, had two medium-length sleeves, and was otherwise rather plain. Grasping it from where it floated in the air and trying it on, Riven found the cloak was actually very comfortable and rather soft. The sleeves came down to his elbows and kept the cloak in place, while the hem reached his calves. He turned around, bowing as Athela started clapping like a fanatic.

“Stunning! Just stunning!” Athela cooed while her two front legs went crazy slapping at each other. “Bravo! Bravo!”

“Shucks,” Riven said with a wink and a laugh while Azmoth looked from one to the other at a loss.

He turned back to the mask, which was obviously the better item of the set, given it had a percentage value to it, and took it from its floating position as well. It also had been titled as a vampiric item, and he had to admit to himself that he was a little disappointed that he couldn’t utilize the entirety of the bonuses because he was a human…instead of a vampire…?

Or was that entirely accurate? Riven scratched his chin. That one was up for debate after the little incident where fangs exploded from his mouth in the blood pit. He’d tried not to think about it since then, but it had definitely been a little creepy, and he didn’t know what to make of it. Regardless, it hadn’t happened since, so he would cross that bridge later.

But it was also the first time he’d ever seen a set piece item… How was he supposed to go about finding other items in this set, exactly? There wasn’t any instruction manual or guide, so he was at a complete loss as to how to even begin searching for the other pieces.

Unlike the cloak, this mask was somewhat impressive. Not amazing, as was indicated by the combat level requirement of 5, but definitely a good thing to add to his arsenal. Probably great for his level, but he’d definitely outgrow it. The mask was meant to cover just his chin, mouth, and nose—leaving his eyes open—and was black and red. The majority of the metal was thin, a sleek black with padding on the inside where it would be secured to his face, but crimson markings wove intricate runes of Unholy pentagrams, modified crucifixes, obscure sigils, and other designs into the surface that glowed faintly and had little holes for him to breathe through. It was polished, obviously enchanted with smooth surfaces that felt warm to the touch, and as his fingers grasped the mask, the dull glow of crimson runes began to smolder.

Bringing the mask up to his face, it sucked down against his skin when he was within a centimeter of his mouth and the padded inside quickly molded to the shape of his nose, mouth, and jaw. The back of it extended to his ears, where it abruptly stopped, and it had no problem staying there without any straps to keep it up. Breathing or talking through it caused tiny amounts of red mist to erupt from the mask, and it was rather sinister-looking as he looked down at his reflection in a pool of blood nearby.

On top of that, Athela definitely approved and came over to inspect it thoroughly by jumping up onto his chest and shoving her face within an inch of his own.

He’d really need to talk to her about personal bubbles, because it was apparent she didn’t know about them at all.

He took the sack of coins and added it to his own backpack, giving the larger bag Jalel’s old party had collected to Azmoth to carry and getting up to continue their trek. He had no idea where he was going, and neither did his minions…but it was getting dark, and he didn’t want to be caught out here in the open when night fell.