Chapter 101 - The Crystal Tyrant (Part 1) (Patreon)

This is objectively the best plan.

A vine wraps around a distant crystal tree and yanks me forward.

Unfortunately, I am unable to utilize my full speed at present.

I promised, after all.

Still, even while holding back, my Dexterity is nothing to scoff at. The crystal forest blurs around me as I cross the distance in only a few seconds, branches and crystalline leaves exploding past in a kaleidoscope of color.

The ogre glances toward me.

Then promptly dismisses my existence.

Apparently, it has decided that pulverizing the party into a fine red paste is the higher priority operation.

I click my tongue.

At my speed, I could probably cripple it immediately. A quick strike to the ankle while it is distracted, followed by several dozen highly educational sword wounds, and the problem would solve itself.

But where is the artistry in that?

I just unlocked the Gravity Manipulation DLC thanks to Sylrae.

Combat application testing is required.

I land lightly atop a crystal branch and mark the creature with Predator's Claim.

That gets its attention.

The ogre immediately whirls around in my direction, all four arms tightening around its improvised clubs as its red crystal eyes lock onto me.

Good.

It understands that I am important.

As it should.

My tail swishes in dignified superiority, the fur finally settling back down now that I have escaped the immediate vicinity of the moths.

I glance toward the distant battle.

Far enough away.

Excellent.

I raise both arms.

Extremely dramatically.

Four vines unfurl behind me like kaleidoscopic wings.

Technically, they are emerging from my shoulders and thighs.

This information is irrelevant.

The ogre does not need to know how the special effects department operates. It merely needs to appreciate the final product.

Several luminous dahlias bloom along the vines, framing my silhouette in pale celestial light.

I take a moment to evaluate the scene.

The flowers. The wings. The glowing forest. The giant crystal monster.

Yes.

This is an acceptable amount of aura farming.

Holding the pose, I release Life Suppression in its entirety.

The effect is immediate.

Wind dies. Crystal branches cease their chiming. The constant rustling that had filled the forest since entering the cavern simply... stops.

The pressure rolls outward in all directions, crushing the air beneath it.

Silence follows.

Not true silence.

The distant battle still exists somewhere in the distance.

Crystal still cracks occasionally beneath the ogre's weight.

Yet compared to the endless noise of the forest, the difference is profound.

The entire world feels as though it has paused to watch.

I nod solemnly.

There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that reality itself is currently saving a replay of this scene for future viewing.

Possibly multiple copies.

One should always maintain backups of important historical events.

Obviously.

The ogre is…

Mostly unaffected.

Probably.

Crystal monsters don't exactly have muscles that can tense or lungs that can seize beneath my pressure, making it somewhat difficult to determine whether Life Suppression is actually accomplishing anything beyond looking incredibly cool.

I shrug slightly and continue the cutscene.

Astra Nocturne settles into my grasp. Slowly, deliberately, and with the appropriate amount of dramatic flair, I level the void-black blade directly at the ogre.

My tail swishes again. My ears remain perked.

Perfect.

Ten out of ten on the aura farming.

An entirely reasonable score for a genius of my caliber.

The ogre makes the first move.

One moment it is standing still.

The next it is a ten-meter-tall freight train that has developed deeply personal opinions regarding my continued existence.

Crystal branches explode as it barrels forward. One of its clubs swings out, less weapon and more a telephone-pole-sized geological event moving at alarming speed.

Alright.

First test.

I leap backward from the branch just in case this doesn't work.

Getting hit by that would be rather unpleasant.

Astral Energy floods into my hands.

Far more than when I moved the pebble.

Every last bit of it is converted into gravity-aspected energy.

Deep indigo light blooms around my fingers, midnight-blue distortions twisting through the glow. Tiny points of starlight flicker into existence and vanish just as quickly, pulsing in a rhythm that feels strangely familiar.

The effect is completely different from Starfire's living kaleidoscope or Starlight's celestial silver radiance. It looks less like magic and more like somebody punched a small hole through reality and forgot to close it.

I grasp the current.

Then twist.

The flow between myself and the incoming club rotates.

Up becomes down.

Not everywhere.

Just within a narrow channel stretching between us.

The effect is immediate.

Crystal splinters rise instead of fall. Loose debris abruptly changes direction. Branches shift upward as though the world briefly forgot which way gravity is supposed to work.

Caught inside the altered current, the ogre's club drifts several feet higher than intended.

The strike passes harmlessly through a point roughly five meters above where I had been standing.

Good.

It appears dodging was not strictly necessary.

On the other hand, approximately eight percent of my stamina just vanished.

My ears twitch.

Concerning.

The club slams through the crystal tree instead, reducing it to debris.

I land lightly on another branch and study the altered region as the ogre recovers.

Interesting.

The distortion remains visible.

Not obvious.

Subtle, but definitely present.

Midnight-blue ripples linger throughout the redirected current, faint enough that most people would never notice them. Tiny stars appear and disappear inside the distortion, while reflections in nearby crystal surfaces bend ever so slightly wrong.

The effect reminds me of a poorly edited movie scene where somebody forgot to finish rendering one corner of the frame.

Eight out of ten.

Very cinematic.

Potentially a weakness.

Tragic.

More importantly, I now understand the cost.

Increasing gravity on a target is easy. Changing the direction of gravity at range requires physically twisting the entire current between myself and the target.

Effective, but also absurdly expensive.

Which means this particular application belongs firmly in the category of "situationally unreasonable."

A category that, admittedly, contains a large percentage of my combat style.

Next test.

I extend my free hand.

Starlight condenses into an exceptionally kaleidoscopic bowling ball.

Blades are distinctly suboptimal against living crystal. Large blunt objects, on the other hand, possess a long and distinguished academic history of solving structural integrity problems.

Astra Nocturne slips back into my soul, temporarily dismissed in the interest of proper bowling form.

Standards must be maintained.

I settle into my stance.

One hand cradles the construct while the other twists the gravity current once more, midnight-blue light spilling from my fingertips as I rotate the flow sideways. The invisible river stretches outward from me, forming a narrow channel aimed directly at the crystal ogre.

Said ogre has only just finished processing the revolutionary discovery that I am, in fact, still alive.

Honestly, this is the inevitable consequence of refusing to invest properly in Dexterity and Perception.

The world eventually begins happening faster than one's thoughts.

Rather like attempting to spectate professional swordsmanship through a particularly unmotivated slideshow presentation.

I release the bowling ball.

It enters the gravity current immediately.

At first, it simply follows the channel.

Then the current begins doing something rather wonderful.

The flow isn't merely redirecting the construct.

It's accelerating it.

The Astral Energy I continuously feed into the current doesn't simply maintain the altered direction—it reinforces the flow itself. Like a river carving deeper into its own bed, the stronger current drags the construct faster and faster as it travels.

Compounding momentum.

…

How delightfully unreasonable.

By the time the bowling ball reaches the ogre, it is moving at roughly twice the speed it possessed when it left my hand.

That would explain Sylrae's stronger shots.

The bullet isn't leaving the rifle particularly quickly, it becomes quick.

My construct slams squarely into one of the crystal clubs.

The impact detonates through the weapon, shattering it cleanly at the base before the bowling ball itself explodes into glittering starlight.

The ogre pauses.

It slowly looks down at the considerably shorter club still clutched in one hand.

Then back at me.

My tail swishes.

Test two successful.

Additional discovery: improvised tree branches apparently possess considerably less Vitality than the extremely angry crystal person wielding them.

Highly convenient.

The ogre raises one leg.

Ah.

That is almost certainly a poor sign.

I launch myself backward, the crystal branch beneath my feet detonating into splinters from the force of the jump.

Blue mana floods around the descending leg.

The color catches my attention immediately.

Suspiciously similar to Bulwark.

Hm.

Force.

That would explain why Marek's shield keeps pretending Newton was merely offering suggestions.

My vines abandon their entirely aesthetic role as decorative wings and snap toward two distant crystal trees instead. They tighten in unison, slingshotting me through the narrow gap between them just as the ogre's foot crashes into the ground.

The forest explodes.

A circular wall of Force-aspected mana erupts outward, uprooting crystal trees as though the entire cavern has abruptly decided landscaping was a mistake. Trunks burst apart into glittering shrapnel, thousands of razor-edged fragments riding the expanding shockwave.

One particularly unfortunate Chime Serpent, still frozen in place beneath the weight of Life Suppression, discovers that remaining perfectly still is occasionally an evolutionary dead end.

It ceases to exist.

My ears perk.

A truly impressive amount of projectiles are currently traveling toward my face.

Time for test three.

Which, ideally, works.

Because otherwise I will be forced to solve this problem with Starfire.

That would technically keep my promise to Avelyn. It would also be boring, as well as potentially reduce several hectares of forest to the concept of becoming crystal lava.

I land on a nearby branch.

Then I flood both hands with Gravity.

Midnight-blue light spills across my fingers as I reach into the current itself.

Not one stream.

All of it.

The entire river between myself and the incoming storm.

I clap my hands together.

The current tears apart.

Half the flow peels left. Half peels right.

The smooth downward river becomes two violent torrents rushing away from one another, leaving a narrow corridor of relative calm directly in front of me.

The stamina cost is…

…

Aggressively rude.

Still, the effect is everything I hoped for.

The wave of crystal enters the divided current and immediately fans outward, every shard treating sideways as the new downhill. Tens of thousands of glittering fragments rush past me in two brilliant streams before crashing into the forest beyond.

Not a single one enters the corridor.

My tail gives an increasingly self-satisfied swish.

Excellent.

Projectile-based bullet hell now possesses a practical countermeasure.

Expensive. Wildly impractical for prolonged use. But functional.

That alone makes it catastrophically useful.

I glance toward the ogre.

Then toward my own feet.

My tail swishes harder.

Time for test four. The important one.

Obviously.

After all, I cannot imagine a gravitational current particularly cares what enters it.

A club. A projectile. One particularly unfortunate squirrel.

Or perhaps…

A Foxkin.

The hypothesis seems sound.

My ears stand upright as I reach inward, taking hold of my own gravity instead of the world's around me.

Carefully.

Very carefully.

Reversing gravity on oneself strikes me as the sort of experiment that produces either a breakthrough or an obituary.

The current slowly twists.

Down becomes up.

The sensation is... odd.

Not the stomach-dropping feeling of a fall, nor the weightlessness of reduced gravity. My body simply reaches the unanimous conclusion that the sky has always been beneath my feet.

I drift upward several meters.

My tail swishes.

Flight has been unlocked.

Kind of.

The eighty percent limit remains firmly in place. Even if I devote the entirety of my manipulation toward lifting myself, I can only accelerate upward at roughly one gravity.

Perfectly respectable by the standards of physics.

Laughably slow by mine.

Still, speed was never the real objective. The current accelerates everything traveling through it.

There is no particular reason I cannot become one of those things.

I settle lightly back onto the branch.

Astra Nocturne slides into my hand.

Time to stop conducting science in theory and begin conducting science at extremely irresponsible velocities.

I crouch.

Crystal splinters erupt beneath my boots as I launch.

Gravity floods one hand, midnight-blue light spilling between my fingers as I form a narrow current stretching toward the ogre.

The effect is immediate.

The current catches me like a river grabbing driftwood.

My speed begins climbing almost instantly.

Not explosively.

Steadily.

Every moment I remain within the current, its pull compounds.

My tail flicks, turning the uncontrolled acceleration into an elegant spin.

A sapphire reverberation races along Astra Nocturne.

"Horizon Slash."

The blade shears cleanly through another crystal club before the ogre has time to finish raising it.

Excellent.

I continue sailing straight through the gap between its four arms.

Less excellent.

Momentum, it turns out, possesses remarkably little respect for the fact that I am finished attacking.

The nearest crystal tree approaches with the enthusiasm of an especially determined ibis discovering that someone forgot to lock the neighborhood dumpster.

I twist the current behind me.

Gravity abruptly begins flowing opposite my direction of travel.

The deceleration hits immediately.

My stomach voices several extremely persuasive objections while the rest of me continues existing in approximately one piece.

No damage.

Good.

Promise to Avelyn maintained.

Mostly.

The braking force alone is nowhere near enough, however.

My thigh vines spear into the ground below me, gouging deep furrows through crystal as they help bleed away the remaining momentum. The combined resistance finally drags me down to something approaching survivable.

Interesting.

The current accelerates beautifully.

Stopping is significantly more difficult.

A problem.

Fortunately, problems are merely future techniques wearing disguises.

I redirect the current one final time.

Sideways becomes down.

My boots settle gently against the trunk of a nearby crystal tree.

Perfectly stable.

My hair hangs neatly toward my feet. My skirt follows. Even my tail obediently settles according to my personal definition of gravity rather than the cavern's.

…

Wall-running has officially become a solved problem. Ceiling-running appears alarmingly close behind.

I seem to be breaking reality in a series of increasingly questionable ways today.

I approve.

My tail swishes lazily as I watch the ogre, Astra Nocturne trailing loosely at my side. A faint grin tugs at the corner of my lips, just enough for the tips of my fangs to become visible.

Then the ogre surprises me.

It growls.

The sound rolls through the crystal forest like distant thunder, vibrating through trunks and branches despite the distinct absence of lungs. Whatever mechanism is producing the noise has absolutely no business existing inside a creature made entirely of crystal.

An engineering marvel.

Probably.

Then it lets both remaining clubs fall to the ground.

I blink.

That is probably important.

The ogre slowly crosses all four arms over its chest.

A heartbeat later, it roars.

The cavern trembles.

Crystal branches rattle violently despite the weight of Life Suppression, and loose fragments skitter across the ground beneath the sheer force of the sound.

My ears flatten instinctively.

I nod in appreciation.

Seven out of ten roar.

Respectable volume.

Strong presence.

Points deducted because the dragon still possesses exclusive ownership of the "my skeleton briefly considered evacuating my body" category.

Red light begins leaking from the ogre's eyes.

Not outward.

Downward.

The crimson spreads through translucent crystal like ink diffusing through water, veins of scarlet racing beneath the surface until the entire body glows with a deep blood-red radiance.

…

Highly aesthetic.

Also highly suspicious.

Naturally, I remain exactly where I am, lightly tapping one foot against the side of the tree.

Interrupting transformation sequences is against my personal moral code.

Besides, there is educational value in allowing the demonstration to conclude.

The crimson eventually settles.

A pale blue aura blooms around the ogre a moment later, dense Force mana radiating from every inch of its body. The pressure alone fractures the ground beneath its feet, pulverizing crystal into a widening ring until only two narrow pillars remain supporting its stance.

Interesting.

Very dramatic.

The ogre slowly uncrosses its arms.

Then…

It exhales.

…

I elect not to investigate how a crystal lifeform accomplished that particular feat.

Some mysteries actively contribute to one's continued peace of mind.

There is, however, one aspect of this encounter I feel obligated to critique.

Why go into its second phase now?

I genuinely fail to understand the design philosophy.

All I have accomplished thus far is removing two improvised tree branch clubs.

The ogre itself has sustained approximately zero meaningful damage.

That is the mechanical equivalent of entering a boss arena, politely throwing a pebble at the boss, and immediately triggering the phase where the soundtrack develops Latin chanting.

My tail flicks in mild irritation.

Three out of ten phase transition.

The presentation was excellent. The timing demonstrated a complete disregard for established encounter design.

The ogre pulls back two of its fists.

Blue Force mana rapidly condenses around them.

Despite the fact that I am currently perched nearly a hundred meters away.

My eyes widen.

That is almost certainly a poor sign.

I immediately sprint along the length of the crystal tree, Astral Veilstep chaining beneath my feet in rapid succession. The world blurs as I race toward the upper branches, each step flowing seamlessly into the next until I reach the very top.

My gravity shifts. The current rotates upward.

I launch myself into the sky.

The redirected current catches me immediately, carrying my momentum higher and higher instead of allowing it to bleed away beneath the world's gravity.

…

Oh.

That is wonderfully exploitable.

With my personal gravity reversed, nothing is actually trying to pull me back toward the cavern floor anymore.

I simply continue climbing.

Air resistance will eventually win the argument, of course.

Fortunately, that sounds like tomorrow's problem. Today belongs to science.

The ogre throws its punch.

Both fists swing forward with enough force to distort the surrounding air, and a colossal wave of Force mana erupts from the impact. The attack tears across the forest in a widening fan, consuming everything unfortunate enough to exist within its path.

The crystal tree I occupied moments ago simply... disappears. The ones behind it fare little better.

The wave continues for nearly two hundred meters before finally dissipating, leaving behind a broad wedge of absolute devastation where a crystal forest used to exist.

…

Getting hit by that would have been mildly inconvenient.

I rotate my current once more.

Momentum gently bleeds away as my definition of "down" shifts beneath me, allowing me to settle into a perfectly stationary hover.

Upside down.

Naturally.

I fold one leg over the other and rest my chin against my fist.

Mostly because this angle is objectively superior for dramatic contemplation.

Below me, I study the destruction.

That attack…

It was roughly comparable to the dragon's breath.

My ears twitch.

That conclusion immediately raises several problems.

Boss monsters do possess significantly higher stat totals than ordinary monsters according to Marek.

This ogre is also mutated.

It possesses an additional Tier.

It exceeds the dragon's level by roughly twenty.

Even accounting for all of that…

A True Dragon is still a True Dragon.

I find it difficult to believe a level seventy roaming boss should casually produce destruction on the same scale, particularly when this attack required only a fraction of the dragon's charging time.

Which leaves two plausible explanations.

Either this specific ogre has somehow become capable of competing with one of the world's apex predators…

A category that, naturally, also includes myself.

...Or that transformation sequence was actually the activation of some variety of buffing skill.

The latter feels considerably more probable.

Powerful temporary buffs generally possess drawbacks.

Mana exhaustion, physical strain, limited duration.

Potentially all three.

My tail swishes thoughtfully.

I shall proceed under the assumption that reality has not suddenly decided to make mutated crystal ogres the dominant lifeform on the planet.

Either way, the solution to this problem is obvious.

Proceed with a reasonable amount of violence, a regrettable lack of caution, and complete disregard for the surrounding ecosystem.

I magnify my gravity, shooting toward the cavern floor before reversing the current as I approach. My momentum bleeds away smoothly, allowing me to settle onto the crystal ground without so much as a sound. 

The ogre turns to face me.

Good.

There are still several experiments remaining.

And this fight is starting to get fun.

I lower Astra Nocturne until its tip points directly toward the crystal ground.

My ears stand upright.

My tail swishes once.

"Again."