Chapter 86: 086– Efrideet's Gift 1
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One of the aides of Efrideet Capriska entered the room, it was usually well lit with beautiful purple drapes hanging across the four-poster bed.
His master was usually very lively and always planning, she never took a break, it was the Capriska way, 'We can rest when we are all dead,' are the words she always told him.
In the past month, the room had lost all its luster, the atmosphere seemed to tangible wilt all around her, creating a pit of gloomy depression that was reminiscent of death.
The smell, oh that foul stench was the first thing he tasted in his throat, he did his best not to raise his hand to block his nose, but the stench of rotting flesh coming from his master made him involuntarily gag.
"Your highness, word has come in the empress's child lives, however he is blind," he began with caution, he knew not of what his master had done.
He was merely following her orders, to keep her posted on the situation of the empress's child as he always had.
He was, however, no fool, the timing of the prince candidate's near-death experience and his master's illness was no mere coincidence, as he thought to that point his eyes drifted.
His eye soon fell on the room hidden within his master's chambers, he knew well what lay within, a treasure that, the once 7 civilizations fought bloody wars across the stars to obtain.
He quickly brought his eyes back to his master who looked like the filth found on the streets of a fringed world, even beggars on lower-worlds were cleaner.
He couldn't hide the slight repulsion in his eyes, the only thing that made him stay in this room that not even a beggar would enter was his undying respect and adoration for his master genius.
Efrideet glanced up with narrowed eyes, she had long heard of the rumor about the child being alive, but she refused to believe it, she had cut, no severed his string, it was impossible for any creature to survive that but the pictures and recordings could not lie.
She looked at the image of Lirian with hatred, "How, HOW, HOW!?" she tried to scream but her body lacked the strength to scream a single note.
"Get out of my chambers," she tried to shout, and the aide wisely backed away, he was glad to leave the stench was truly repulsive, he cast one last glance at his master the blue markings unique to the Yasaratch race on her body were constantly leaking a black mucus that smelled worse than death itself.
Efrideet looked up feebly, how was this fair, she had been left in this condition with her body barely even responding to her basic commands, but he only lost his sight.
She looked to the great weave of fate that had been denying her every caress, "How dare you deny me, I am the master of fate, you must obey my will," she choked out through gritted teeth.
But the weave looked at her with indifference, it hung right before her very eyes so close that she could taste its power if only she could only reach a little further but it remained on the edge of temptation just slightly beyond her reach.
She stretched out her hands and tried to pull on it once more, but she was met with a teasing resistance as if fate deemed her unworthy to go any further.
"Cough, cough, cough," she heaved out gunk's of black filth from her throat and collapsed in her bed, she began to cry in despair but more filth began to pour out of her every orifice slowly drenching her entire face in filth that even sewers would reject.
---
The sound of heavy breathing could be heard in the boiling air of the combat training room as the student ran through the obstacle courses, with each completion they came out with a dozen new bruises or a few fractured bones.
"Crunch," the sound of a bone-breaking was heard and everyone heard the cries coming from one of the students in the warrior's course as a few medics ran to sort out the student's injury, Lirian sat on a wooden platform quietly meditating.
Alastor was watching Lirian from afar, after the incident, he was practically banished from the Jane family, but surprisingly he was turned into a permanent teacher in the school.
He had no complaints after what he did he was surprised to still be alive, in truth even if the empress had said she chose to overlook what he did, it wouldn't have surprised him if he was executed in secret.
The truly surprising thing was that she made him a permanent teacher, it felt awkward for him as he watched Lirian he could hardly believe some of the things he did that day.
He'd agree that he disliked Lirian, but it was just that dislike, what he did was no different than an adult bullying a newborn child and it left him disappointed in himself, the last time he did something so stupid he was a rash cultivator with a strong ego due to his many accomplishments.
Those days had long since passed, he had become a squadron commander of the Jane families first fleet and due to his meritorious work, he retired when he got the news that he would be selected for the next ascension group.
Every five hundred years a new batch of half-step immortals would be sent up to the immortal realm to complete their transition, all that he needed to do was focus on cultivating and everything else would take care of itself.
But being the good samaritan that he was he took up the opportunity to give some guidance to the new generation.
That was the biggest mistake of his life, he had practically lost everything he built up for himself over the millennia and he still couldn't understand how it happened.
It had been driving him crazy, he couldn't understand what had taken a hold of him from the moment he saw Lirian and as time went on, he felt an anger he couldn't describe take control until finally couldn't it anymore and attacked.
He looked at Lirian with regret and pity, he remembered feeling that savage sword form that could cleave the world in two, if he had been even a tenth as talented when he was Lirian's age he felt that he would be thousand times the saint he was today.
"I don't remember us being close, so stop staring at me like a creep," Lirian shouted at him suddenly, he looked at him in surprise and sighed, what a loss of talent, he thought, to be so perceptive even without his eyes.
He started to walk towards Lirian as he did he felt the energy of Anya lock onto him, warning him to be careful one wrong move and he knew that he'd be dead.
He shivered in dread as he thought of when Anya attacked him, he had been helpless under her strikes and those red currents, were something else, he never heard of a saint using power like that it was suffocating and even managed to suppress his saint healing ability.
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One of the aides of Efrideet Capriska entered the room, it was usually well lit with beautiful purple drapes hanging across the four-poster bed.
His master was usually very lively and always planning, she never took a break, it was the Capriska way, 'We can rest when we are all dead,' are the words she always told him.
In the past month, the room had lost all its luster, the atmosphere seemed to tangible wilt all around her, creating a pit of gloomy depression that was reminiscent of death.
The smell, oh that foul stench was the first thing he tasted in his throat, he did his best not to raise his hand to block his nose, but the stench of rotting flesh coming from his master made him involuntarily gag.
"Your highness, word has come in the empress's child lives, however he is blind," he began with caution, he knew not of what his master had done.
He was merely following her orders, to keep her posted on the situation of the empress's child as he always had.
He was, however, no fool, the timing of the prince candidate's near-death experience and his master's illness was no mere coincidence, as he thought to that point his eyes drifted.
His eye soon fell on the room hidden within his master's chambers, he knew well what lay within, a treasure that, the once 7 civilizations fought bloody wars across the stars to obtain.
He quickly brought his eyes back to his master who looked like the filth found on the streets of a fringed world, even beggars on lower-worlds were cleaner.
He couldn't hide the slight repulsion in his eyes, the only thing that made him stay in this room that not even a beggar would enter was his undying respect and adoration for his master genius.
Efrideet glanced up with narrowed eyes, she had long heard of the rumor about the child being alive, but she refused to believe it, she had cut, no severed his string, it was impossible for any creature to survive that but the pictures and recordings could not lie.
She looked at the image of Lirian with hatred, "How, HOW, HOW!?" she tried to scream but her body lacked the strength to scream a single note.
"Get out of my chambers," she tried to shout, and the aide wisely backed away, he was glad to leave the stench was truly repulsive, he cast one last glance at his master the blue markings unique to the Yasaratch race on her body were constantly leaking a black mucus that smelled worse than death itself.
Efrideet looked up feebly, how was this fair, she had been left in this condition with her body barely even responding to her basic commands, but he only lost his sight.
She looked to the great weave of fate that had been denying her every caress, "How dare you deny me, I am the master of fate, you must obey my will," she choked out through gritted teeth.
But the weave looked at her with indifference, it hung right before her very eyes so close that she could taste its power if only she could only reach a little further but it remained on the edge of temptation just slightly beyond her reach.
She stretched out her hands and tried to pull on it once more, but she was met with a teasing resistance as if fate deemed her unworthy to go any further.
"Cough, cough, cough," she heaved out gunk's of black filth from her throat and collapsed in her bed, she began to cry in despair but more filth began to pour out of her every orifice slowly drenching her entire face in filth that even sewers would reject.
---
The sound of heavy breathing could be heard in the boiling air of the combat training room as the student ran through the obstacle courses, with each completion they came out with a dozen new bruises or a few fractured bones.
"Crunch," the sound of a bone-breaking was heard and everyone heard the cries coming from one of the students in the warrior's course as a few medics ran to sort out the student's injury, Lirian sat on a wooden platform quietly meditating.
Alastor was watching Lirian from afar, after the incident, he was practically banished from the Jane family, but surprisingly he was turned into a permanent teacher in the school.
He had no complaints after what he did he was surprised to still be alive, in truth even if the empress had said she chose to overlook what he did, it wouldn't have surprised him if he was executed in secret.
The truly surprising thing was that she made him a permanent teacher, it felt awkward for him as he watched Lirian he could hardly believe some of the things he did that day.
He'd agree that he disliked Lirian, but it was just that dislike, what he did was no different than an adult bullying a newborn child and it left him disappointed in himself, the last time he did something so stupid he was a rash cultivator with a strong ego due to his many accomplishments.
Those days had long since passed, he had become a squadron commander of the Jane families first fleet and due to his meritorious work, he retired when he got the news that he would be selected for the next ascension group.
Every five hundred years a new batch of half-step immortals would be sent up to the immortal realm to complete their transition, all that he needed to do was focus on cultivating and everything else would take care of itself.
But being the good samaritan that he was he took up the opportunity to give some guidance to the new generation.
That was the biggest mistake of his life, he had practically lost everything he built up for himself over the millennia and he still couldn't understand how it happened.
It had been driving him crazy, he couldn't understand what had taken a hold of him from the moment he saw Lirian and as time went on, he felt an anger he couldn't describe take control until finally couldn't it anymore and attacked.
He looked at Lirian with regret and pity, he remembered feeling that savage sword form that could cleave the world in two, if he had been even a tenth as talented when he was Lirian's age he felt that he would be thousand times the saint he was today.
"I don't remember us being close, so stop staring at me like a creep," Lirian shouted at him suddenly, he looked at him in surprise and sighed, what a loss of talent, he thought, to be so perceptive even without his eyes.
He started to walk towards Lirian as he did he felt the energy of Anya lock onto him, warning him to be careful one wrong move and he knew that he'd be dead.
He shivered in dread as he thought of when Anya attacked him, he had been helpless under her strikes and those red currents, were something else, he never heard of a saint using power like that it was suffocating and even managed to suppress his saint healing ability.
One of the aides of Efrideet Capriska entered the room, it was usually well lit with beautiful purple drapes hanging across the four-poster bed. His master was usually very lively and always planning, she never took a break, it was the Capriska way, 'We can rest when we are all dead,' are the words she always told him. In the past month, the room had lost all its luster, the atmosphere seemed to tangible wilt all around her, creating a pit of gloomy depression that was reminiscent of death. The smell, oh that foul stench was the first thing he tasted in his throat, he did his best not to raise his hand to block his nose, but the stench of rotting flesh coming from his master made him involuntarily gag. "Your highness, word has come in the empress's child lives, however he is blind," he began with caution, he knew not of what his master had done. He was merely following her orders, to keep her posted on the situation of the empress's child as he always had. He was, however, no fool, the timing of the prince candidate's near-death experience and his master's illness was no mere coincidence, as he thought to that point his eyes drifted. His eye soon fell on the room hidden within his master's chambers, he knew well what lay within, a treasure that, the once 7 civilizations fought bloody wars across the stars to obtain. He quickly brought his eyes back to his master who looked like the filth found on the streets of a fringed world, even beggars on lower-worlds were cleaner. He couldn't hide the slight repulsion in his eyes, the only thing that made him stay in this room that not even a beggar would enter was his undying respect and adoration for his master genius. Efrideet glanced up with narrowed eyes, she had long heard of the rumor about the child being alive, but she refused to believe it, she had cut, no severed his string, it was impossible for any creature to survive that but the pictures and recordings could not lie. She looked at the image of Lirian with hatred, "How, HOW, HOW!?" she tried to scream but her body lacked the strength to scream a single note. "Get out of my chambers," she tried to shout, and the aide wisely backed away, he was glad to leave the stench was truly repulsive, he cast one last glance at his master the blue markings unique to the Yasaratch race on her body were constantly leaking a black mucus that smelled worse than death itself. Efrideet looked up feebly, how was this fair, she had been left in this condition with her body barely even responding to her basic commands, but he only lost his sight. She looked to the great weave of fate that had been denying her every caress, "How dare you deny me, I am the master of fate, you must obey my will," she choked out through gritted teeth. But the weave looked at her with indifference, it hung right before her very eyes so close that she could taste its power if only she could only reach a little further but it remained on the edge of temptation just slightly beyond her reach. She stretched out her hands and tried to pull on it once more, but she was met with a teasing resistance as if fate deemed her unworthy to go any further. "Cough, cough, cough," she heaved out gunk's of black filth from her throat and collapsed in her bed, she began to cry in despair but more filth began to pour out of her every orifice slowly drenching her entire face in filth that even sewers would reject. --- The sound of heavy breathing could be heard in the boiling air of the combat training room as the student ran through the obstacle courses, with each completion they came out with a dozen new bruises or a few fractured bones. "Crunch," the sound of a bone-breaking was heard and everyone heard the cries coming from one of the students in the warrior's course as a few medics ran to sort out the student's injury, Lirian sat on a wooden platform quietly meditating. Alastor was watching Lirian from afar, after the incident, he was practically banished from the Jane family, but surprisingly he was turned into a permanent teacher in the school. He had no complaints after what he did he was surprised to still be alive, in truth even if the empress had said she chose to overlook what he did, it wouldn't have surprised him if he was executed in secret. The truly surprising thing was that she made him a permanent teacher, it felt awkward for him as he watched Lirian he could hardly believe some of the things he did that day. He'd agree that he disliked Lirian, but it was just that dislike, what he did was no different than an adult bullying a newborn child and it left him disappointed in himself, the last time he did something so stupid he was a rash cultivator with a strong ego due to his many accomplishments. Those days had long since passed, he had become a squadron commander of the Jane families first fleet and due to his meritorious work, he retired when he got the news that he would be selected for the next ascension group. Every five hundred years a new batch of half-step immortals would be sent up to the immortal realm to complete their transition, all that he needed to do was focus on cultivating and everything else would take care of itself. But being the good samaritan that he was he took up the opportunity to give some guidance to the new generation. That was the biggest mistake of his life, he had practically lost everything he built up for himself over the millennia and he still couldn't understand how it happened. It had been driving him crazy, he couldn't understand what had taken a hold of him from the moment he saw Lirian and as time went on, he felt an anger he couldn't describe take control until finally couldn't it anymore and attacked. He looked at Lirian with regret and pity, he remembered feeling that savage sword form that could cleave the world in two, if he had been even a tenth as talented when he was Lirian's age he felt that he would be thousand times the saint he was today. "I don't remember us being close, so stop staring at me like a creep," Lirian shouted at him suddenly, he looked at him in surprise and sighed, what a loss of talent, he thought, to be so perceptive even without his eyes. He started to walk towards Lirian as he did he felt the energy of Anya lock onto him, warning him to be careful one wrong move and he knew that he'd be dead. He shivered in dread as he thought of when Anya attacked him, he had been helpless under her strikes and those red currents, were something else, he never heard of a saint using power like that it was suffocating and even managed to suppress his saint healing ability.
