Romulus stared at the quest text for a long, angry moment.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” He demanded as he waved it away and threw his hands up. “First Hyperion, and now this? Come on!”

  “I do recall telling you your path would be hard,” the Revenant-King said drily.

  “Yes. Thank you. I remember,” Romulus bit out, scowling at the calm ghost before him. “Do you have any advice?”

  “You cannot win a direct confrontation as you are, but you likely don’t need to. Hyperion will want to thoroughly destroy you, but his historical fear of the Dark Lady will serve to give you time to prepare.”

  The former Autarch stepped forward and gestured languidly at the massive, empty throne room before continuing.

  “This Necropolis is more than just a gothic fortress. I built it atop a massive leyline convergence in case I ever needed a bit of extra strength to fend off the Pantheon. Thanks to the amount of Dark Mana suffusing the Necropolis, the leylines and their natural Mana Nexus have been converted into Dark Mana entirely over the centuries.”

  “Meaning what, exactly?” Romulus asked with legitimate curiosity and mild impatience.

  “You have enough power to commence a Dark Consecration across this entire territory, and offer the people within the chance to join you in the Dark Lady’s Faith, or die as sacrifices to Her glory. You also have enough power to raise thousands of the dead. For example, the bride that the so-called ‘Duke’ so desperately wants the Liber Nox to resurrect.”

  “...that’s what he’s after?” Romulus asked with surprise, and a glance down at the platinum-bound tome. “Really?”

  “I was the Crowned Power of Death, Romulus,” the specter said with emphasis that was lost on Romulus himself. “I know the desires of the citizens here, especially when it ties into Loss.”

  “Well, while that may be true, I don’t think he’s looking for a maggot-riddled skelebride,” Romulus said flatly.

  “True, but what is to say you must bring him such? Furthermore, his obsession—his Avarice—could be a very useful tool. You are the Dark Autarch now, Romulus. Sin is a weapon.”

  “You want me to try to use his desires against him?”

  “All mortals are susceptible to temptation, Romulus. As the Autarch of Darkness, you are temptation incarnate. Pride, Wrath, Envy, Avarice, Gluttony, Sloth, and Lust… the sins of all mortal peoples are yours to command and wield.”

  The fallen Revenant-King had assumed an almost scholarly parade rest as he spoke.

  “In time, you will learn to sense which Sin holds dominion over a soul, and use that to your advantage. If you find the pressure point, you can press until the target concedes or breaks. Whichever comes first.”

  “Okay. That’s cool,” Romulus admitted. “But it also doesn’t help me immediately, uh…” he frowned. “What is your name?”

  “Mortarius,” the specter replied with a wry smile. “My parents were rather lacking in subtlety, and I was born among the high echelons of the Deathsworn.”

  “You don’t say,” Romulus muttered, weighing his options and running through different possibilities in his mind. “The Sins are a good point of advantage, but I don’t even know how to use them yet. I need to know every option before that, anyway,” he said while reaching up and removing the helmet with a sigh of relief. “How do I access the mana reserves?”

  “The Throne is the Focus,” Mortarius answered immediately and with a vague gesture of his hand once again. “You need to attune to it and use it as the channel to access the nexus beneath the Necropolis.”

  “Why do I feel like this is more complicated than you’re making it sound?” Romulus asked as he leaned back, idly rubbing his hands along the stone armrests nervously.

  “You either do or do not,” Mortarius said calmly. “I’m already dead, so this is on you.”

  “Helpful,” Romulus grunted.

  “Less whining, more attuning. You’re the Revenant-King now, Romulus. Not me. I will be content to serve as your mentor and guide, if you so desire, until you no longer need me for such—that was the duty I agreed to, when the Dark Lady informed me my time as that ignoble degeneration was coming to an end.”

  “Yeah, hold on, I wanted to ask about that,” Romulus said while refocusing on Mortarius. “You told me you chose Sanguine, so why did you look like an amalgamation between Wraith and Lichborne?”

  “The answer is not complex,” Mortarius responded without offense. “My power eroded after the battles I fought against the Pantheon following the Dark Lady’s imprisonment. I expended vast swathes of my strength as a Power to systematically aid Her Lesser Powers in escaping the Pantheon, and to spirit away and hide conclaves of Her Faithful.”

  Mortarius peered at him, and then looked back out at the throne room as if in memory.

  “By the end, I had pushed myself to such an extent that only the Divinarch of the Dark could reconstitute my energies, and She was trapped beyond my reach. As a result, I retreated here and concentrated all of my remaining strength in this city. My Dominion was all that sustained me and maintained my corporeal existence. My Soul remained anchored to Silence, but I lacked the power to sustain my Sanguine gifts, and there was, at the time, nobody to offer blood tribute. Thus, I recontituted myself into a hybrid of Wight and Lich, to avoid the pitfalls of the Thirst that plagues the Sanguine.”

  “So you turned yourself into that thing so you could see your task through?”

  “I did,” Mortarius said mildly. “I was one of the strongest Autarchs in history. I owed the Dark Lady that much, after she had elevated me so high.”

  “You’ve mentioned ‘Crowned Power’ a few times now,” Romulus pointed out. “What exactly is that?”

  Mortarius glanced at him and then snapped his fingers.

  “Your Codex has been activated and updated. Read it at your leisure.”

  “My Codex?”

  “A repository of learned information accessible via the System,” Mortarius explained with a shake of the head. “These are things children learn in Eternus. I had assumed you Travelers would have been given the same education.”

  “My arrival here was kind of abnormal,” Romulus grumbled.

  “Mm. Fair enough,” Mortarius replied while turning to face him. “However, you need to focus on attuning to that Throne. You may read the Codex while you do, but you must prioritize attunement. It will take you a full day and night to complete.”

  “Sure…” Romulus said while glancing down at the throne, “...but, one question?”

  “Yes, Romulus?”

  “How do I attune to it? You never answered me before.”

  Mortarius stared at him for a second, and then smiled mirthlessly. “I keep presuming your knowledge. My apologies for that,” the specter said and pointed at the throne. “Focus your Hemoforce into the Throne until you feel the Link with the Nexus. From there, it will establish a feedback loop that cycles the mana through your Core and into the Nexus. You will be attuned once enough of your Essence has bled into the Link.”

  Romulus released a steadying breath as Mortarius spoke, slipping into the breathing exercises he’d learned to calm his childhood anxiety. The weight of everything was hitting him all at once.

  “Thanks,” he said between breaths, realizing how much the specter was actually helping. “I mean it. Thanks.”

  Mortarius eyed him speculatively, then inclined his head before turning away again.

  Romulus looked away from his predecessor at the same time, his focus drifting to the Throne beneath him.

  “Okay, you pile of stones…” he muttered to himself “...let’s get properly acquainted.”

  Romulus focused on breathing as he gripped the throne's armrests, eyes closed, and heartbeat pounding against his ribs. Part of him felt guilty, given what he intended to do with the power. The devastation he planned to unleash was… immense. Very likely, there would be a large number of people who would accede to the call for submission. After all, Blackstone and its surrounds were all they had ever known.

  Others, he knew, would not be so willing.

  His thoughts drifted to Isolde, and he felt a twinge of regret.

  “Snap out of it,” he muttered to himself in irritation, curling his fingers more tightly around the armrests as he worked to divest himself of the distracting thoughts. His focus was forcibly narrowed and honed in on trying to sense the connection to the power lurking on the other end of the throne’s network. He could detect a sense of… something as he worked, a lingering possibility or feeling that tickled his awareness.

  He dove in on that feeling, probing around with senses he barely understood as he searched for some sort of click or rightness. Mortarius had been frustratingly vague on what it was he was actually supposed to do. Still, Romulus had already assumed it would be some sort of resonance action after the ‘Link’ was found. It always was in the stories. He needed to connect his Essence with that of the throne, and the Nexus beyond it.

  The feeling of something brushed along his consciousness, and then slipped away.

  Romulus snapped his eyes open and turned to Mortarius with an aggrieved sigh.

  “You need to give me a hint here, man. Lay some ghost wisdom on me. What exactly am I meant to be doing?”

  “Attunement,” the specter responded simply.

  “Okay, yes, but how? I don’t even know how to use my Hemoforce properly!”

  Mortarius blinked at that, and his ghostly eyebrows shot upward. “Is that a jest?”

  “Fuck you, Mortarius. I barely learned how to use Dark Mana before I lost my mana! Help me!”

  The ancient King sighed in turn.

  “Dark Lady give me patience…” he muttered as he moved closer. “Okay, heed me well, Romulus. All mana is a form of energy. In its pure state, this energy is not dissimilar to an electric current, and we can feel it in our bodies in the same way, sourced from our Core. For some, it is a simple matter of willing it to work, but for others, it is not so easy. I have a feeling you fall into the latter category, or else you would have likely already unconsciously activated your sorcery—especially after unlocking the power yourself earlier.”

  “I thought my mana pool vanished when I became Sanguine?” Romulus questioned.

  “No, it did not vanish; it was transmuted into your blood. Your blood is mana, to some degree. The functional difference is that you use your Hemoforce, your life force, to fuel your spells now. The technical difference is that your mana channels and veins were merged. Mana now flows unimpeded through your body. That’s the source of your gifts as a Sanguine Revenant,” Mortarius said, lifting a hand to tilt it side-to-side in a ‘so-so’ gesture. “Well, that, and the Dark Lady’s ichor.”

  “Her what?”

  “Ichor, Romulus. The Blood of a Divinarch,” Mortarius said with a frown. “Nevermind. The point is that you should actually find it easier to access your Hemoforce now, compared to when it was distinct. You just need to focus on that subtle tingle in your blood. The mana within you is aligned to the Dark, now, more or less irrevocably. That is good and bad. It is good because it means I can tell you exactly what to look for, and it is bad for a plethora of reasons I’ll elucidate upon later,” Mortarius said with a tone that vacillated between scholarly and bored.

  “You know, the whole ‘woe is me for being stuck with this bumpkin’ act is pretty fucking irritating, Mortarius.”

  “Anger will help considerably when it comes to Dark Mana and its sub-types,” Mortarius said in an unruffled voice. “In fact, I want you to latch onto that feeling of anger and channel it. You must harness it, wield your Hemoforce, and stoke your Core once more to draw power from it directly. Later, you will learn to use cold rage, but being hot around the collar works fine at your level. I want you to really dive into it until you feel something resonate inside yourself. Once you do, grab onto it and hold. Hold tight.”

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  Romulus stared at the ghost in silence for a moment, and then grumbled and closed his eyes to do as the former Autarch bade. There was no need for him to listen to Mortarius, but despite his casually arrogant attitude, it wasn’t like the dead man was spouting bullshit. There was wisdom within his predecessor, even if he was somewhat insufferable.

  He almost wondered if Mortarius was being a prick to help him get angry.

  “Okay…” Romulus said as he focused and prepared himself, “...and then what do I do once I grab hold?”

  “Then you push every bit of that power into the throne, toward the Nexus, and hope to Lilith that it works.”

  “Alright,” Romulus accepted before closing his eyes again and focusing on his emotions, namely the frustration and anger he felt at the situation..

  Anger, anger… he recited mentally as he worked, his hands tight against the throne. That dumb bitch Ada… this situation… Hyperion’s stupid face…

  He felt his lips moving silently as he worked, but ignored what he might look like, digging deeper and deeper into his well of anger and resentment as he searched for a spark. Expectations… family… my parents…

  The single image he had of his father appeared in his mind, followed by the feeling of abandonment.

  Romulus’ anger flared white-hot.

  In that moment of incandescent fury, he found it.

  Like a match put to pitch, the Dark Mana now raging in his veins erupted into an unseen inferno, and the power lurking within him roared to life. Romulus shuddered in his throne when it did, and the familiar surge of electric power emanating from his Core filled him as before. This time, though, the effect was more visceral—for it resonated within his very blood. It felt like a river of fire, like an avalanche of ice, like he was being caressed and stabbed all at once. He tasted copper, and he realised that one of his fangs had punctured his bottom lip.

  Fangs. He had fangs.

  The thought snapped Romulus back to awareness, and he found himself slouched in the throne, panting for air and shaking. “I did it,” he breathed as he looked toward Motarius. “I wielded my Hemoforce and found my Core.”

  “Nice work,” Mortarius said with a genuine nod of approval. “You are a fast learner, if nothing else.”

  “Thanks,” Romulus said with mild surprise, then glanced down at the throne. “So now I just…?”

  “Yes, channel it into the throne and wait for the connection.”

  Romulus eyed Mortarius speculatively, but did not argue and instead put the specter’s words into action. He focused his mind on the throne beneath him and reached toward his power, every iota of it savaging his blood in energizing potency, and willed it toward the seat—and whatever lay beneath it. His health, now massively inflated, dropped immediately at the stated rate of 50 HPS. What was strange was that he didn’t feel like he was losing health, more like he was… faintly diminishing.

  At the same time, he felt an alien hunger stirring in his abdomen.

  “This… this feels strange…” he muttered while tightening his grip on the armrests.

  “Hemoforce is not like standard mana,” Mortarius explained with keen and ready insight. “The way it drains is not an impairment of your physical state, but a diffusion of your energy. Your blood is no longer blood the way it is for other mortals. Now, it is pure energy—and can be restored just like energy.”

  “By feeding,” Romulus guessed distractedly.

  “By feeding,” Mortarius agreed quietly. “And that is a lesson you will learn. For now, focus on your task. The sooner you attune, the better off we will be. You will need to Hunt, and you cannot do that until you have a proper safety net.”

  Romulus grunted at his companion’s words and leaned back into the throne. Within that seat, he felt something faintly resonating with him—something reaching up through the base of the dais and through the platinum veins of the chair to connect with him. The moment it did, he felt something snap into place, and the exponential drain on his Hemoforce abruptly stabilized.

  “Woah, I just felt—”

  “Well done,” Mortarius cut in with a rare smile. “Very well done. Your power must be potent for you to snap to the Link that easily.”

  “Wait, really?” Romulus asked in surprise. “That’s it?”

  “No, you must remain like that for about twenty-four hours, like I said. I advise you to check your Codex, review the changes to your Eidos, and then try to find some sleep. The power symbiosis will take care of you now.”

  “I won’t drain myself out?” Romulus asked warily.

  “No, it’s a feedback loop, as I already explained,” Mortarius said while peering at him thoughtfully. “You will regenerate most of what you’ve lost, though it’ll still leave you ravenous.”

  As if to support Mortarius’ words, a System screen appeared a moment later.

  Romulus read over the alert and then nodded and swiped it away.

  “Okay, I think I’m going to untether for a little while,” he said to Mortarius, who nodded calmly.

  “I suspected as much when I saw the alert,” the ghost said with a glance over him. “While you wear the armor, I will be able to pilot your body for short periods if you should be attacked, so do not fret for your safety. Do whatever it is you Travelers do. I will see you when you return.”

  “Thanks, Mortarius.”

  The former Autarch hesitated and then waved a hand.

  “Think nothing of it. I know I may seem somewhat reticent, but I assure you, your success is my desire. You are the only one, now, that can avenge the dishonor perpetrated against the Dark Lady and Her people—my people. I will safeguard your Eidos until your return, Romulus.”

  Romulus smiled at the other man and gave him a thumbs-up.

  “Rivers of blood, and all that.”

  “Indeed,” Mortarius said wryly, then turned away to assume a sentinel posture.

  Romulus shook his head in amusement and then muttered “Log Off” under his breath.

  While he wanted to read the Codex, he also needed to take a break and check on Kate. A quick step away from the game, some food to follow, and some check-ins with his best friend—and then he could resume his adventure in Eternus. A System screen appeared before him, and when it did, a disorienting ripple rolled through his body. A sense of disconnection flitted through his mind, and suddenly, he found himself seeing double. He parted his lips to say something, and then he felt a snap as if something inside his mind had been snipped.

  Romulus felt his body spasm, his vision lost focus, and the world went dark.

  Romulus Concept Art, Chapter 20

  VALUES

  ATTRIBUTES

  EIDOS MODIFIERS

  Romulus Character Sheet, End of Chapter 20