Chapter 590: Serpent Ascendant
The pit was impossibly deep. Down and down it went, for miles and miles, so far that it seemed like that if they dropped any further, then Leon and Jormun would fall right out of the underside of the plane and into the Void.
For Jormun, this was one of the most exhilarating and terrifying moments of his life. The culmination of everything he’d worked for over the past fifty years… to finally achieve the power he’d so coveted, and to face a future without that obligation to the Serpent hanging over his head…
When he started that conversation with Leon, he hadn’t lied when he told the younger man that he wanted to talk to honor how well Leon had fought against him—Jormun had never anticipated having none of his followers remaining when he finally ascended to divinity—but it wasn’t the only reason he stopped to talk. When faced with the completion of his goals, he found that he’d needed some minutes to work up the nerve to take that last step, to finally plunge into that darkness and give himself over to the Serpent completely.
He wasn’t nearly as devoted to the Serpent as he’d made it seem whenever he spoke with his crew, or with Leon, or anyone else. He wasn’t blind to the risks involved. He was the one running around the world undoing the seals holding the Serpent in place, but the Serpent still held far more power in their relationship, and the pirate couldn’t help but fear that now, at the very end of his journey, the Serpent might renege on their contract, killing him now that he was no longer useful. That fear only grew the further he and Leon fell into that abyssal pit.
They fell for a long time, occasionally slamming and scraping against the stone walls. The sounds of battle faded away, as did the meager light at the top of the pit, until all that surrounded them was the dark.
At some point during the fall, he realized that Leon had vanished from beside him, and for that Jormun had felt some amount of jealousy—it seemed the Serpent wanted the boy, first—but eventually the dark claimed him, too. The last thing that went through his mind before he felt an eldritch power wrap itself around his mind and force him into unconsciousness was the fear that he might never wake again…
—
Fire and tremors. The ground shattering beneath his feet. The sounds of battle, and the screaming of everyone he’d ever known being killed by Legion soldiers not far away. His own desperate, silent pleas for anyone to help him survive and live through this calamity.
Finally, at the end, the image of a great serpent, miles long, with a single curved horn protruding from its forehead, breaking through everything else, until it was all he could see. It fixed him in its merciless gaze, its emotions completely unreadable upon its reptilian face, but as the dream faded and Jormun slowly came back to consciousness, he was left with the impression of gratitude, amusement, and fatherly pride.
The first thing the pirate did upon awakening was to project his magic senses. He was no longer falling, but instead found himself lying face-up upon nearly perfectly-smooth black volcanic stone. He could see nothing else, for wherever he was had been completely shrouded in darkness. He could perceive the floor for about twenty feet, and then everything faded away into the abyss.
He had no idea how long it had been since he’d descended into the pit with Leon, nor how long he’d been unconscious. The younger man was nowhere to be seen, but given where he was, Jormun could only guess that he had been drawn by the Serpent into some pocket space. What happened to Leon, he couldn’t even fathom a guess.
Without much warning, the quiet sound of slithering began to build up in the back of his mind, so slowly and quietly that he couldn’t say when it started. A moment after he became aware of it, he heard the familiar hissing in his ear from the Serpent.
[You… doubted me, did you not…?]
Jormun sighed, but he was done lying—not to mention he didn’t think he could fool the god that had saved him so long ago, whose presence within his mind had been a near constant for almost his entire life.
“I did,” the pirate admitted with a smile, knowing that no matter what, what was done was done. “It wasn’t intentional. Just fear.”
The Serpent hissed incomprehensibly for a second or two, then whispered, [An understandable reaction for one in your position… But I fulfill my promises…]
Jormun’s smile widened, and he began to sit up. “Then…?”
[Prepare yourself,] the Serpent hissed. [The blood of your line has laid dormant for a very long while, and to awaken it will be no small task… But you have spilled so much blood for me that I am replete with power, more than enough to fulfill my obligations. Fear not, young human, for I always make my promises in good faith, without thought to twist them for sadistic purposes…]
As the Serpent spoke, Jormun could feel himself calming down, even though the slight hint of suspicion and fear never left the back of his mind. However, as he sat up a little straight, the total darkness that surrounded him began to fall away like receding fog, and he found that he sat upon what seemed to be an endless plane of flat stone within a black void.
When the Serpent stopped speaking, power suddenly filled this space, not brightening it in a physical sense, but nearly blinding Jormun’s magic senses with its brilliance. The ground cracked and broke apart, but it quickly became clear that this was purposeful and benevolent; Jormun saw the cracks and tears in the stone forming clearly-defined runic patterns, massive in scope to match the tremendous power that was carving them.
Jormun recognized few of the runes. He was never much of an enchanter, but given that most writing systems were based at least partially upon the modern runes, he could usually recognize at least some of the runes used by enchanters. These runes, however, were clearly much older and more ornate, and they hummed with power and caused his head to spin if he looked at them for too long.
These strange, otherworldly runes, once carved, were then connected to each other with great streams of white light that arced through the air and formed great flowing patterns for dozens of feet above Jormun; within those streams of light Jormun could see millions of more recognizable modern runes made of light hovering and flowing within.
These interconnected runic patterns were immense, almost mind-boggling so, and not just for their scale but for the speed with which they were created, too. And he stood right in the very center of this titanic scheme, the locus upon which all the power of this space turned.
One-by-one, the rune-filled streams of light began to fill the old runes with power, causing them to light up in sequence.
[Prepare yourself, human…] the Serpent whispered into his mind. [With this, your power is awakened, and our bond has been completed. This, I think, will be the last we ever speak to each other…]
The hissing and slithering in his mind faded, and for a moment, Jormun knew true solitude, something he hadn’t experienced since he was but a young boy. It unnerved him more than he would ever admit how apparent it was now that it was gone how omnipresent the sound of slithering had been, but what unnerved him more was that he didn’t feel any different. The runes glowed, and he could feel the power within the space whirling about him like a cyclone, but he always assumed that he would feel stronger when his power awakened.
He felt exactly the same; just as powerful, just as human…
His skin began to itch, and he absent-mindedly scratched first his forearm, then his thigh, and then his neck before he realized that something was different.
That itch quickly became a searing pain, as if his skin was melting off even though he could see that it wasn’t.
‘Just a side-effect of my Inherited Bloodline awakening…’ he thought to himself as he fought to remain calm and not to start scratching until he ripped his skin. ‘Nothing to be concerned about!’
His will didn’t last that long, and as his skin burned, he began to madly scratch in a vain attempt to bring himself some relief. However, after a few seconds more, his arms suddenly snapped to his sides as he fell to the ground. He could feel his body shaking as the power around him suddenly began to pour in, filling his every cell with light and darkness.
He still had some control over himself, though, and he used every ounce of willpower he possessed to summon the greatest treasures that he’d acquired over his years spent raiding the south. His bronze hammer, stolen from a vault in the great southern city of Argos. His onyx bracelet set with six black crystals, all now dull and lightless with his krakens dead. A book he’d pillaged from a Sky Devil ship as it ferried Titanstone along the coast of their remote island, the cover sealed with magics he had never been able to unravel, keeping the knowledge stored within its pages a perpetual mystery.
Whatever was going on within his body, Jormun did not want to lose these three greatest of his treasures. If his soul realm shattered under the colossal weight of the power that was changing him, everything within it would be lost, and while he cared not for the rest of his loot, these three items were irreplaceable.
But even as those items left his soul realm and fell to the ground before him, his eyes were glazing over and becoming unfocused as his conscious mind was inundated with pain and new sensations and instincts.
His body began to grow in size, his skin and clothing ripping and tearing as his body grew too big for both, while through the tears in his skin could be seen scales that glittered in the abyss like dark emeralds. His internal organs shifted and while most of them grew, some of them withered and shrank, dissolving into waste as new organs grew in their place. His bones cracked, twisted, fused, and grew into new shapes and configurations, and the only reason Jormun didn’t roar in pain from this was because he was already roaring in pain from everything else.
His arms and legs twisted upon themselves as his body bent and painfully transformed. Soon enough, his skin was growing around them as the flesh and bone of those limbs were consumed by the rest of his body, leaving him looking like a long dark mass of scaly green flesh.
Jormun was unable to see this, however, as his eyes dissolved in their sockets and his mind was too shattered by pain to project his magic senses. From his forehead erupted a spike of ivory, glowing white in the darkness, and as it grew, it began to curve backward into a wicked horn. In his empty eye sockets, new reptilian eyes formed from the shapeless gel and blood that his human eyes had melted into. At the same time, his human teeth fell out, while several rows of sharp serpentine fangs speared their way out of his gums to replace them.
His body grew and transformed, while his mind shut down from the pain. He barely even felt it after a while as his body continued to grow and change shape into something more snake-like, while his newly-awakened blood filled his mind with alien instincts and genetic memory.
And his transformation hardly seemed like it would end anytime soon.
—
The battle was over. The Legion had won, at least as far as anyone could tell. The pirates had been defeated; their fleet lay in ruins, and the broken remains of the eighth island had largely been secured. There was only one last push remaining, and the marines were already massing on the slopes of the caldera for that final push.
However, there was still an undercurrent of anxiety among the Legion. The storm had yet to abate, and if anything, seemed to only grow more intense, soon reaching hurricane conditions. This would’ve been bad enough on its own, but Leon Raime had gone missing. He’d been easily detectable by practically the entire fleet as he flew around on his pure white griffin, firing off flares and lightning bolts. His presence alone guiding the fleet through the channels had been a tremendous comfort to everyone, but that comfort had turned to dread with his mysterious disappearance, and the subsequent appearance of a demon and some unidentified winged humanoid whose power was essentially immeasurable by the fleet.
No one was more disturbed than Maia, Anzu, and the rest of Leon’s retinue.
After being sent away by Leon, Anzu had circled around the caldera a few times, the worry he had for his human near-all-consuming. However, when the griffin saw Leon fall, he knew that he had to do something. He couldn’t act directly, for the demon and the winged thing were still battling over the island, but he knew who might be able to help.
He’d flown back to Sigebert’s flagship. There, he found Leon’s mate, Maia, staring at the walls of the crater with a look of such worry in her eyes that the griffin just instinctively knew that his worry was hers as well. He ignored everyone else, even as they shouted in surprise as his sudden landing upon the deck, and ran to Maia. The river nymph didn’t miss a beat, quickly jumping onto his back and glaring a challenge at anyone who protested.
Once she was secured into his harness, Anzu took off with great force, the wind and rain of the storm having barely any effect on him with the worry he had for his human pushing him onward.
On his back, Maia continued to stare at the crater, unable to see what was happening there even with her magic senses. It was like everything within had suddenly become warded against magic senses as soon as that pirate conjured the winged humanoid. Once Anzu climbed high enough, however, Maia was able to physically see down into the caldera, and took in the sight of the obliterated structure at the center of the island in the lake, as well as the conspicuous lack of Leon or Jormun.
Wordlessly, she urged Anzu onward, though the griffin needed no urging. With her power, his confidence had been greatly bolstered, and not even the demon and the angel continuing to battle high up in the clouds would deter him from getting closer. They were going to find Leon and bring him home, no matter what.
As Anzu sped forward, cutting through the wind and rain with prodigious speed, Maia tried again and again to connect with Leon through their soul realms. She’d been doing this ever since he went silent following the destruction of the pirate’s primary ship.
However, she received no response. She didn’t think he was dead, but she wasn’t sure what she’d feel if he were. She couldn’t sense him, and as a result, she felt like a piece of her was missing.
Unfortunately, she’d been unable to leave Sigebert’s flagship before Anzu returned. The seas here felt wrong, and that feeling was only growing more intense as the storm raged on. Even with all of her power, she couldn’t overcome the fear that these waters gave her, nor the idea that if she were to dive in and become one with the water here, she’d be lost forever.
But now, with Anzu’s help, the two landed upon the island about an hour after Jormun’s ship was annihilated.
Maia quickly slid off Anzu’s back and surveyed the area. All around her, she could see the evidence of Leon and Jormun’s battle, as well as that of the beings fighting above her. Most alarming of everything, from the rubble and the broken ground and the evidence of intense magics, was Leon’s blade lying in the dirt, the ground all around it scorched black by lightning.
However, she wasn’t given enough time to even run over to the blade before a truly massive explosion above had her springing back and channeling her magic power, ready to defend both herself and Anzu, who’d tucked in wings and tail and crouched low to the ground in fear.
A moment later, the angel came falling out of the storm clouds, its wings ragged and burnt black, its white robes nearly completely incinerated, leaving its body charred. Following after it was the fire demon, glowing like a meteor as it slammed into the angel once more, accelerating its fall.
The angel hit the island with all the weight of its massive frame, shaking the ground beneath Maia and Anzu’s feet. The demon landed a second after it did, with cat-like grace. It spared the dead angel only one look before wordlessly turning in Maia’s direction.
The rain around Maia began to coalesce into a gigantic water dragon. She could sense that this demon had roughly eighth-tier power, so they should about evenly matched. If it wanted to fight her, then she’d respond with all the power she had at her disposal.
But she didn’t want to kill it just yet. It was here when Leon vanished, it must know what was going on. It even had a slight tinge to its aura that reminded her of Leon, though why it did she didn’t dare guess.
The demon took a few steps toward her and strangely relaxed its aura. For just a moment, it gave Maia an oddly familiar feeling, as if she’d encountered this demon somewhere before…
Before she could figure out what this feeling was, however, or even say a single word to the fiery being, the ground began to shake in earnest, and as if to herald the rising of something terrible, lightning began to fall upon the walls of the crater like rain. The demon reassumed its fighting posture as it turned toward the rubble of the boxy structure, and taking her cue from it, Maia also turned toward the rubble. At the very least, it seemed like the demon wasn’t particularly hostile to her, but a titanic aura was rising from those broken rocks, one that was laced with enough killing intent to make her dizzy.
Whatever was coming was no friend to her, and it was powerful.
Suddenly, the rubble practically exploded as something immense forced its way out with extreme force. Maia easily kept the flung chunks of stone from hitting her or Anzu, while the demon did likewise for himself. However, both were struck dumb by the enormity of the thing before them.
From a huge hole that the rubble had somehow covered had sprouted a long serpentine body, already easily more than two hundred feet long—and that was just what had already erupted from the ground, there was still far more body down there. Its smooth serpentine head was gigantic, bigger even than some Legion war galleys. Despite this, its head seemed oddly small compared to the rest of its enormous body.
Its scales were dark green, with black lines and bright yellow spots breaking up the monotony in even patterns. From its brow sprouted a massive horn that curved backward and that glowed with tremendous magical power—enough to put more than enough fear into Maia that her hands began to shake.
The sclera of its eyes were a duller yellow compared to its spots, while its pupils were the deepest midnight black. It roared in primal rage as it burst out into the storm, the wind whipping around it and covering it in rain. Its mouth was filled with altogether far too many massive teeth, each more than twice the size of the average young adult, while its aura towered over that of Maia and the demon.
Maia sprang back to Anzu, recognizing that this thing was not friendly, not with the sheer quantity of killing intent pouring from its form. But before she could reach the griffin, the titanic snake’s body came crashing down not too far away. The demon had to leap out of the way as the snake crushed the body of the angel beneath its enormity.
The snake then slowly turned its eyes in the direction of Maia and the demon, the twin orbs glittering with malice and hatred, its fangs bared, its long forked tongue rapidly darting out to taste the air.
Without hesitation, Maia sent her water dragon forward to buy some time—her watery construct was large by her standards, but was still utterly dwarfed by this serpent—while the demon conjured a great orange fireball in its hand and hurled it at the serpent.
With but a flash of its eyes
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