Feeling like I had to interfere in this one, since Kuzunoha appeared to be quite overwheld within the spire of the Theotech Vault's psychic influence.
Even for who was only observing from the outside of the Vault's wall, it was still too much. Not to ntion, I should be the higher equivalent of demigod.
Either that, or my psychic sensitivity was on the higher side.
Regardless, I tried to converge my existential perception into a concentrated perceptive extension, piercing through the countless layers of psychic defensive asures.
"This might be a little bit tough, ahahah."
Obviously, the psychic interference within the spire was unlike anything I had encountered before.
It pressed against my extended perception like the weight of an ocean, layers upon layers of hostile energy and shifting signatures woven so tightly they ford a labyrinth of their own. Every step of my existential probe forward was t with resistance, like pushing through a viscous, living void.
But I pressed on.
The floors themselves seed sentient, rearranging with intentional decision, their shifting patterns carrying a deliberate purpose that went beyond re defense chanisms.
It wasn't just so automated Theotech algorithm. There was intelligence here, a mind, and I was determined to reach it. If this mind was the architect of the labyrinth, understanding it—or better, subduing it—might turn the spire's greatest weapon into our tool.
I don't want to lose my 90% of my bastion within this Theotech Vault.
As my perceptive extension pierced deeper into the labyrinthine network, the resistance beca more pronounced. Psychic barriers layered with intricate glyphic protections flared before , each one appeared to be a masterpiece of alien design. Either that, they were incomprehensibly advanced and divine that my demigod self couldn't even attempt to learn.
The barriers weren't static too—they shifted, adapted, and retaliated. Bolts of concentrated psychic energy lashed out, aid at disorienting and destabilizing my focus, but I pushed past them, threading through gaps in their structure, unweaving their patterns one by one.
Each barrier I breached brought closer to the source. The hostile signatures beca sharper, their energy oppressively trying to bring down a peg.
"Ahaha, I guess we're really trying to invade a ho that is a little too high for our current level."
If my perception weren't tethered to a higher existential height, I might have been consud entirely. The Vault's defense chanisms were designed to annihilate intruders at every level—physical, cognitive, and spiritual, it was terrifying to a great extent.
And then, amidst the journey of my perceptive extension, I saw her.
Shimring in an aura of golden light and runic essence, she stood at what appeared to be the nexus of the spire's psychic network.
The figure was undeniably humanoid, yet every aspect of her form radiated a profound otherness. Waist length golden hair, and beautiful in nature. She was tall—two ters, at least—with a commanding presence that seed to bend the very fabric of the psychic realm around her.
But she wasn't entirely human in nature.
She possessed a long, prehensile tail adorned with a booster-like organ at its end, black and textured like volcanic rock but pulsing with veins of brilliant blue energy that surged and ebbed in rhythmic intervals. On her back, sprouted otherworldly wings—two massive appendages of the sa textured material that was unlike anything I had ever seen.
Each wing bore an arm-like structure with its palm housing a circular cavity that pulsed with concentrated energy, glowing brighter with every motion. They shifted and flexed with chanical montum, as their motion accompanied by faint, resonant hums that echoed through the psychic space.
Suppressing those monstrous visage, she wore an exotic Theotech garnt that defied any conventional notion of clothing. The material shimred like liquid crystal, its design both high-tech and ceremonial, flowing with embedded glyphs and shifting patterns that seed to tell a story I couldn't decipher.
Continue reading stories on empire
For a mont, I attempted to pry further, to uncover the history of this entity as I had done countless tis with mortals and even Calamity Objects.
But there was nothing. No threads to unravel, no mories to piece together—just an impenetrable void where her past should have been.
It was as if her existence was locked away, untouchable by even my elevated perception. The purpose of her being, too, remained obscured, her role in the Vault a mystery.
"Cur semper dormit mors,morientes cupiditate odii excitantur?"
She noticed .
The mont our presences intersected, her head tilted slightly, her glowing azure eyes narrowing with recognition—or perhaps disdain.
The psychic realm around her rippled, and I felt her awareness press back against my probe, her mind lashing out like a coiled predator.
I didn't retreat.
If she wanted a confrontation, I would oblige.
This should be enough to keep the interference of the spire floors from going haywire and hard for the expedition team.
"Greeting, madam."
Summoning my own spiritual representation, I willed my essence into this alien psychic realm. The process was seamless, as my higher understanding of manifestation allowed to project an extension of my spiritual form with precision.
In an instant, my spiritual projection appeared before her, clad in the sa apparel I had chosen to represent myself.
The Theotech entity didn't hesitate to address my unruly entrance.
She moved with the motion of a jet fighter, her tail's booster igniting in a burst of blue energy that propelled her forward, and her wings acted as a stabilizer flared as she pivoted mid-flight, her arm-like appendages snapping forward to release twin bolts of golden energy aid directly at .
The bolts tore through the psychic space, their sheer force distorting the realm itself.
I twisted out of the way, my spiritual form darting to the side with fluid precision. The bolts grazed past , their residual energy rippling across my projection, still lingering like a latching poison that would slowly kill a soul if I didn't cleanse it imdiately.
Likewise, her movents were relentless, each attack seamlessly flowing into the next as she closed the distance between us.
I needed a weapon.
Reaching into the essence of my projection, I forged a spiritual Prismforge—a crystalline construct born from my mastery of All-Tampering Divine Dexteiry and spiritual manifestation.
It was quite difficult since this should be the first ti I've done this, but the weapon shimred into existence, its multi-faceted surface catching the golden light of the psychic realm.
Afterward, the clash was instantaneous.
Her wing-mounted appendages struck first, their energy-filled cavities acting as thrusters that drove them toward with devastating force.
I t the attack head-on, my Prismforge transford into a chainsaw, intercepting the strike in a burst of light and energy.
In that mont alone, the collision sent shockwaves rippling through the psychic realm, the impact resonating like a bell tolling in the void.
"Quid mortales volunt morte ludunt? Exspecta, mortalis non es, sed divina non admodum."
Wait, I just realized. Did I really catch this entity speaking in latin??
Imdiately after, she pivoted, her tail lashing out with impossible speed.
The booster at its end ignited, propelling the tail like a whip, the blue energy trailing behind it forming an arc of destructive power.
I countered, my Prismforge shifting into a shield-like form that absorbed the blow, the force of the impact pushing back but failing to break my stance.
"Ahaha, you're one heck of a powerhouse."
Her whole movent pattern was a dance of precision and destruction, each motion calculated and efficient like that of a supercomputer trying to painstakingly obliterate an impurity.
And just like that of a computed command, her attacks were relentless, like a being who don't know fatigue and exertion.
But unfortunately for her, I was no re prey. My spiritual form eventually adapted to her rhythm, my Prismforge shifting seamlessly between offensive and defensive forms.
A spear to thrust, a blade to parry, a shield to block—each transformation was instantaneous, guided by my All-Tampering Divine Dexterity that was enough to parry and counter all of the attacks aid to harm .
"Adeone labefactatum est caelum tam leve esse quod tam liberum sub astro vagaris?"
"Whoa, you're hurting my heart, my lady."
"Ut videtur, orationem am comprehendere potes."
"Yeah, you're basically speaking in horribly-translated latin."
"Quid est lingua Latina? Non facis ullum sensum!"
As the battle raged, the psychic realm itself seed to tremble under the weight of our clash. Bolts of energy and arcs of light carved through the space, their trajectories leaving trails of distortion in their wake.
The entity's golden-azure aura flared brighter with every strike, her presence an overwhelming force that seed to consu the very fabric of the realm.
But I was undeterred.
Drawing on the essence of my spiritual projection, I launched a counterattack as always. My Prismforge extended into a chain-like construct, its crystalline links glowing with a radiant light.
The chain lashed out, wrapping around one of her wing-mounted appendages. With a surge of force, I pulled, disrupting her montum and forcing her to pivot mid-flight.
She snarled—a soundless expression of frustration—and retaliated with a burst of energy from her tail's booster, severing the chain and propelling herself backward.
Her form shimred as she recalibrated, her aura flaring as she prepared for the next exchange.
Reviews
All reviews (0)