It was painfully clear, Dullorak spoke in a way no one could imdiately understand. It reminded Atlas of Lyrassa, with her constant nature-spirit jargon... only worse. With Dullorak, it felt nearly impossible to pull any actual aning from his words.
And yet, he kept talking. Sweeping gestures, dramatic pauses, even glances toward the audience as though he were basking in their awe. Instead of awe, though, he earned nothing but groans and complaints.
[Na: Dullorak]
[Level: 112]
[Strength: 145 | Agility: 138 | Intelligence: 548 | Constitution: 234 | Animus: 390]
[Job: Magic User]
"Level one hundred and twelve?" Atlas muttered.
The higher his own level climbed, the more absurdly powerful his summons seed to beco. This one... this one was leagues ahead of him. And the stats confird it, his Intelligence stat was staggering, far beyond anything Atlas had seen so far.
But Animus instead of Stamina?
Could it be because he’s an Undead type? Maybe he restores his stamina in a different way.
And then the job title caught his eye. Magic User.
Atlas exhaled slowly. Maybe this was the answer to his lingering problem, the missing piece he’d been worrying over yesterday. Soone who could actually train him to refine his control of mana, maybe even help him unlock a stronger area-of-effect spell.
But then his gaze lifted to Dullorak again. To the way he spoke, the way he carried himself, all pomp and nonsense. Atlas felt a flicker of doubt gnawing at him.
Why do I feel less and less optimistic about this?
Still, there was only one way to find out. He pushed the doubt aside and focused on what mattered most now, Dullorak’s talents. That was where the truth of this bizarre, overly dramatic man would be revealed.
[Crown of Many Voices (S) - Hollow Crown (S) - Royal Convergence (S) - Night Court Elegance (A) - Unstable Charm (A) - Head Swap Habit (B) - Crown Channeling (SSS)]
And... wow.
Was this the first ti Atlas had ever seen a talent rated SSS? Yes, it was. Until now, the highest he’d encountered were SS talents: his own, Morganna’s, Serenith’s, even Karian’s. But SSS? That was new territory entirely.
He leaned forward, eyes flicking across the glowing list. Ti to check them one by one, because these talents looked... unusual.
[Crown of Many Voices: Grants the ability to channel different elents by drawing upon stored heads, effectively wielding multiple elental affinities at once.]
[Hollow Crown: An oppressive aura of sovereignty that empowers summoned hollows and suppresses enemy morale.]
[Royal Convergence: Can rge several lesser hollows into a greater construct temporarily for devastating strikes.]
Atlas exhaled sharply.
So... his suspicions were right after all. Dullorak wasn’t just eccentric, he was sothing else entirely. An undead type, perhaps? His very na gave it away, didn’t it? Dullorak... Hollow Crown... it practically scread of the Dullahan legends.
And summoning hollows on top of it? That sounded dangerously close to necromancy.
Was this man an undead knight masquerading in human form? A Dullahan who commanded hollows the way a necromancer commanded corpses?
[Night Court Elegance: Battle movents appear graceful and hypnotic, distracting opponents mid-fight.]
[Unstable Charm: Charisma spikes unpredictably; sotis becos overwhelmingly alluring, other tis awkwardly intense.]
[Head Swap Habit: Frequently pulls out stored heads and switches them while talking, breaking any sense of normal conversation.]
The next three talents felt a little underwhelming, offering nothing particularly useful at first glance. But that wasn’t surprising. Every fallen Lord he had summoned so far carried at least a few talents that seed almost pointless.
But then ca the SSS talent.
[Crown Channeling: Uses claid heads as conduits, allowing to cast different spell types.]
Atlas’s eyes widened. So... Dullorak could use the heads of those he had slain as channels, summon hollows, and even wield fragnts of their abilities?
That was dangerously overpowered.
Still, he had to admit, it was satisfying. For all of Dullorak’s bizarre theatrics, the truth was undeniable. At long last, a true Magic User had appeared among them.
Even as the crowd mocked him, Dullorak kept speaking on stage, his voice lofty, filled with self-importance.
"I am the Thousand Faces," he declared. "Known across realms for—"
"Shut up, Dullorak! You’re a headless man, you don’t even have a face!"
"Yeah, those heads are just from the people you killed, aren’t they?"
"Hahaha! Hey, tell us. What’s your real gender? Maybe you’re just an old man pretending!"
Laughter rippled through the crowd, until a shrill voice suddenly split the air.
"SHUT UP AND HAND OVER YOUR SOULS TO ! HAHAHAHA!"
Gasps broke out as a severed head with long black hair and the withered features of an old crone floated into their midst.
"HAHAHAHA!" it screeched in a piercing voice. "LOOK AT YOUR FACES. SO FULL OF FEAR!"
The seated guests recoiled in terror, stumbling back from their places.
Then, from the opposite side, another head appeared, a young blonde girl, smiling with a disturbingly playful charm. "Oh, how exciting! Won’t you play jump rope with ?"
Cries of disgust and shock erupted.
"What the hell?!"
"Gods above, that’s vile!"
"Keep it away from !"
anwhile, Dullorak’s body stood headless on stage, shaking with laughter, clutching his stomach as though enjoying a private joke. All around him, more and more heads materialized until nearly ten floated in the air, circling like grotesque spirits.
One of them, scaled and draconic, turned its burning gaze on the crowd.
"You dare mock the Hollow Crown?" it thundered. "Now face judgnt, as flas cleanse your pitiful souls!"
Its jaws yawned wide, and a torrent of fire roared out, sweeping across the area.
Screams erupted as those caught in the blaze stumbled back, smoke curling from their clothes. Yet the dragonkin head only laughed, exhaling another wild burst of fla high into the sky, reveling in its own destruction.
From the side, Karian suddenly shot forward, seizing the dragonkin head in one hand and holding it up to eye level.
"HEY, YOU! Don’t just grab soone’s head like that!" the dragonkin snarled, scales flaring as it thrashed in his grip.
At once, the other heads began to drift closer, voices overlapping.
"Please, kind dragon warrior..." whimpered the blonde girl’s head, her eyes wide and pleading.
"Spare , lad... let an old man go in peace..." croaked another head, that of a frail elder, coughing between every word.
Karian ignored them, narrowing his eyes at the dragonkin. "Tell . If I throw you far enough, will you just fly back here?"
The dragonkin’s expression flickered into panic. Before it could answer, Karian swung his arm and hurled the head with brutal force. It shot through the air like a cannonball, vanishing beyond the horizon and straight off the island.
"GOD DAMN YOU!" shrieked the crone’s severed head, her long black hair whipping as she howled. "HOW DARE YOU. YOU WRETCHED HUMAN!"
But Karian only laughed, brushing his hands together as though discarding a nuisance.
What a... bizarre night. Utter chaos, yet strangely entertaining for many who had witnessed it.
Dullorak had proven himself capable of wielding entirely different spells through the heads he possessed. Though no one could guess just how many he had collected by now.
The feast eventually ended. Everyone dispersed in a mix of moods, so grumbling in pain from their burns, others muttering in disgust, still shaken by the grotesque faces Dullorak had paraded before them.
Atlas stepped down from the stage and patted Dullorak on the shoulder, now restored to his normal head.
"Take a rest. Tomorrow, we’ll talk properly," Atlas said.
The man turned to him, and suddenly, his head shifted again.
Atlas froze as a new face ford: a pale woman with flowing crimson hair, lips painted blood-red, her expression darkly alluring.
"It will be my pleasure to work alongside everyone here," the head purred, voice low and sensual.
Atlas shivered, repulsed by the fact that beneath this mask was still a man. "Is that... a vampire?" he muttered.
Before Dullorak could reply, sothing whipped across the air. A lash of energy struck the crimson-haired head and slamd it into the ground with brutal force.
Morganna strode past without breaking stride. "Never use that head in my presence again," she said flatly, before walking away.
The crimson-haired head groaned where it lay on the ground. "Ah... this one hurts so much... her grip was far too strong. Please... soone, help ..."
The voice carried a sensual lilt, almost like a sultry plea. But no one paid it any mind. Everyone had already gone, leaving only the headless man standing there with his scattered collection.
"Don’t leave here," the vampire’s head cried out again. "Please... lift up... I can be of such use to you..."
Then, another figure appeared, Karian. Without hesitation, he swung his boot and sent the vampire head flying through the air once more, tumbling off into the distance.
"You dumbass, stop being such a freak," Karian barked with a laugh, shaking his head as he strode away.
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