Aric blinked as the notification flashed before his eyes, the text shimmering with golden light. It hung in the air, translucent and flickering, almost hesitant to disappear. His fingers flexed, the sensation of devouring millions of souls still fresh on his skin, like a faint, lingering ember. "They're... all gone?" he muttered, voice barely a whisper.
A giggle, soft, playful, almost musical, broke the silence, "Not gone... Free." Aric's head snapped up, eyes narrowing as the world seemed to shimmer. Shadows coalesced, swirling in elegant arcs until they pooled into the shape of a luxurious, gothic chaise. Draped in velvet and edged with intricate carvings, the antique furniture hovered ever so slightly above the bog floor.
"My, my... What a show you put on, my little flame," purred a familiar voice. The Benefactor phased into place, lounged atop the chaise, legs elegantly crossed, her fingers idly tracing patterns on the armrest. Her crimson eyes sparkled with amusement, her lips curled into a teasing grin.
"Now you show your face?" Aric said flatly, unamused at her prodding. "Could've used your guidance earlier, before your so-called 'Salvation' nearly tore my soul to pieces."
The Benefactor arched a brow, leaning forward as if inspecting him for cracks. "Oh? And yet you wielded it and won. Even now, I can feel the echoes of its power imprinted on your soul," she mused, voice dripping with condescension. "You saw the warning did you not? Even still, you jumped right into it... mortal impatience, I suppose." She sighed dramatically, brushing nonexistent dust from her sleeve.
"Just don't blame the blade, little flame. If you need to point the finger somewhere, blame your own limitations. After all, you're still... well, human." She smiled slyly.
Aric's jaw tightened, his eyes rolled. "If by limitations you mean getting torn apart from the inside out, then yeah, I'd call that a pretty damn reasonable limit." Aric crossed his arms, turning to look back at the fallen serpents soul-drained husk, still fizzling away. "Limit or not, I won't touch that thing again." His voice was ironclad, but his Benefactor merely chuckled, swinging her legs off the chaise and floating inches above the bog mud with ethereal grace.
"Whine all you want, sweet Aric, but don't lie to me," she cooed, drifting closer, floating into his gaze. Her eyes glinted with mischief as she raised a delicate hand, index finger extending in an accusatory point. "It was intoxicating, wasn't it?"
Aric said nothing, but his silence was all the confirmation she needed. She smirked, eyes half-lidded with satisfaction. "You may not want to use it again... but your soul does." she whispered, leaning in close, before suddenly bursting into ash, only to reappear behind Aric, surprising him as she rested her head on his shoulder, whispering into his ear. "However, this little body of yours just isn't ready. To wield Paradise Lost... you'll need to shed your weakness, little flame."
Aric swallowed hard, shaking her off and stepping back. "Just who the hell are you? And what is that thing?" he demanded, voice sharp.
The Benefactor's smile widened, but she merely floated back to her chaise, lounging once more with careless elegance. "If you want to wield it properly... you're going to have to level up." She raised her hand, and with a flick of her wrist, the notification in front of Aric expanded, shimmering into a broader screen, Aric found himself focused on the button labeled [ALLOCATE POINTS].
He stared at it, jaw clenched. "Level up..." he murmured. He felt drawn to the screen in a way he hadn't felt by any other aspect of the system. It called to him, beckoning for him to interact with it. Without further hesitation, he reached out and clicked the glowing button. The screen flashed, shifting to a web of translucent panels, each one listing his stats:
Verve (VRV): 134 [+][-]
Strength (STR): 37 [+][-]
Mind (MND): 25
Dexterity (DEX): 45
Occult (OCL): 1
Conviction (CONV): 0
Below, in shimmering golden letters, the screen displayed:
Forlorn Souls Devoured: 5,000,000 - Attribute Points Gained: +20
Immortal Soul Devoured: 1 - Attribute Points Gained: +50
Attribute Points: 70
Aric's eyebrows creased in confusion. "Twenty points... for five million souls? And fifty for just one?" His eyes flickered confusion melting into anger. "Are mortal souls worth so little to the gods!?"
The Benefactor sighed, waving a hand, dismissing his outrage. "Relax, it's not so elitist, dearest treasure..." From her hand came a tiny speck of golden essence that floated, wisping around her hand like a leaf in the wind. "Mortals don't usually hold much divine essence within them. That's what makes them mortal." She said, watching the speck float about.
"Immortal souls, however..." Her eye sparked, as her other hand shone bright, coalescing a ball of pure golden light. The sphere floated, orbiting her palm like the sun. "They're pure gold. Divine essence in its most raw form."
Aric nodded slowly. "So... it's not about worth. It's about divine essence." He paused before continuing. "That means the more gods, immortals, and demons I slay, the more powerful I'll become?"
"Precisely," she purred. "You're smarter than you look."
Aric ignored the jab, focusing back on the screen. His fingers hovered over the stats. He clicked each one, and shimmering descriptions flared up beside them, breaking down what each attribute represented.
Verve (VRV): Verve determines the HP stat, it represents physical toughness, the ability to withstand the physical effects of poison, venom, and other physical affiliations.
Strength (STR): Strength determines one's ability to exert force with raw, non-magically augmented, power. This also determines one's athletic ability.
Mind (MND): Mind determines the MP stat. It represents a person's perception, and their mental fortitude.
Dexterity (DEX): Dexterity is a direct measure of a user's hand eye coordination, skill, and precision.
Occult (OCL): Occult is a measurement of one's abilities to utilize mana. It represents the user's ability to cast powerful spells, and resist the effects of magic.
Conviction (CONV): Conviction is an esoteric stat that concerns matters of the divine, unholy, and immortal. This stat cannot be increased via level-ups.
He read them silently, processing the new information. After a few moments of quiet deliberation, he began to allocate:
+10 to Dexterity
+10 to Strength
+30 to Occult
+10 to Mind
+10 to Verve
The Benefactor watched him with a raised brow. "Interesting choices," she mused. "Care to explain?"
"I'll meet the attribute requirements, and force Paradise Lost to submit to me." Aric replied firmly. "But until then, I'll need to raise the stats that'll keep me alive."
The Benefactor smirked, "I thought you didn't want to touch that blade ever again?" she leaned in.
"Like it or not, I'll need it to kill the tribunal." He started, glancing down at the brand on his wrist. "Besides, if I go insane, That probably wouldn't be too good for you now would it?" Aric's gaze turned to his Benefactor, as she found herself in the spotlight. "So you'll do your best to make sure that doesnt happen, right, benefactor?" He smirked grimly, seizing on her surprise.
"How very... practical of you." She leaned back, crossing her legs. "I suppose I should help you every now and then."
Satisfied, his eyes locked back onto the screen as it flickered with new notifications:
[Congratulations! You have gained a title for slaying the legendary immortal Níðhöggr:]
[Title Gained: Maw Breaker]
[Rewards]
[New Spell: Slither]
[Permanent Bonus: +15% DMG on all Daggers.]
]Item Received: Immortal Lucre (Níðhöggr)]
Aric smirked. "Interesting..."
"Oh, you haven't even seen the good stuff yet," his Benefactor smiled.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Aric asked, eyeing her suspiciously.
His Benefactor merely pointed at the flashing tab that read: [Inventory]
"Go on," she teased. "Open it."
Aric hesitated for only a moment before tapping the icon. The screen shifted, and his eyes went wide. Within the new screen, dozens of empty boxes stretched out in neat, orderly rows, hollow and waiting. But Aric's gaze was drawn instantly to the first and only filled box. He clicked it, expanding the object.
[Item: Immortal Lucre (Níðhöggr)]
[He sought to devour... but was devoured instead.]
"Well, well." his Benefactor mused, lips curling with satisfaction. "It seems you've found your first divine memento..."
"Care to give it a whirl?"