Percy double-checked with Nawko that this was indeed Oll before reaching to his main body and asking him to send a clone.
He had no intention of possessing anything right now, but this was his only way to leave a mark on the planet. To use Ludwick’s Compass properly, Percy needed to fly back to Remior through the plane of souls and morize the path from his marks. Unfortunately, teleporting from Oll to Marador Pri and leaving from there wouldn’t cut it.
The good news was that his main body would easily be able to direct a second clone to him. The new wisp would rely have to locate the current clone in his expansive soul sight – a process that would only be made smoother by their mutual attraction – drop a mark on him, and return without touching anything.
Oblivious to his thoughts, the Maradorian gestured at Kassorith to follow her as she set course for what she claid to be another teleportation hub. It would supposedly tap into the local teleportation network rather than the interstellar one that they had just passed through.
Having use both types before, Percy honestly couldn’t tell the difference. Logically, he understood that travelling across a far greater distance would require more power, but he hadn’t felt it. Perhaps only a god or a space affinity user could recognize the nuances of superluminal travel.
‘Should I pick a space affinity for my third core if I do get to choose?’ he wondered.
Then again, there were plenty of other affinities that he would love to have. Ti or karma would be great, and life would synergize well with his bloodline. Of course, he didn’t even know for sure whether the Void Decree would stack favourably with the Moirais’, or whether he and Kassorith would make it far enough into the tournant to earn it, so he might be getting ahead of himself.
Pushing those thoughts aside, he decided to focus on the present. Oll might not be the prettiest place, but that was exactly why he ought to pay attention to his surroundings – he might never visit this planet again.
The architecture was very different from Marador’s. The brick buildings and cobblestone streets were dirty and badly maintained, reminding Percy of Twilight City’s poorest districts. This wasn’t what he would have expected of even a weaker greater spring like Thess’kala, let alone a founding faction of the Void Hand.
Percy spotted plenty of civilians as well – though he would have much preferred that he hadn’t. So of those poor souls appeared to live in constant pain, their physical deformities severely impairing their every action.
Most notable was a man with a second, smaller head on his left shoulder, its scalp fused into the left cheek of his functional head. The second head appeared entirely dead, its eyes glassy and unmoving as its nose and mouth were little more than a bumpy slab of skin, marred with a handful of tiny holes.
There was also an older woman who still had a Yellow core despite her advanced age. A Red-born, most likely. She was missing three limbs, and even her left leg was half its normal length. Hopping all the way from what Percy guessed was her house to a shop located four blocks down the street left her out of breath, making Percy wonder how she had even survived this long.
All in all, watching these people made Percy’s borrowed skin crawl. He’d seen plenty of disturbing things during his travels, but this definitely took the cake. Evidently, the disfigured Blues and Violets that the Ollorians had sent to the void tournant were more like their success stories – those whose disabilities didn’t hinder their magical careers as much, allowing them to reach a high enough grade to supplent their physical abilities with their domains.
Percy’s companions didn’t seem to take this sight very well either, despite the fact that Kassorith had undoubtedly committed his own share of atrocities in the past, and the Huehuan had experienced the horrors of the coliseum for decades.
Noticing the perpetual scowl on their scaled face, Nawko picked up the pace, probably being just as eager to get this trip over with.
Another thing that stood out was that these people didn’t seem to care as much as the Maradorians about letting their alien guests mingle with their civilians. Perhaps they didn’t get as many visitors – shocker – or maybe those who did co here to claim one of their Decrees were less likely to stir trouble.
‘Or they simply don’t care as much if sobody goes nuts and butchers a bunch of mortals…’
Reaching another cathedral-like building – albeit a smaller one – Nawko asked a hunched Green with an upside-down nose for the correct teleportation pad to “Nergal’s resting place”.
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However, she’d already turned to face the correct platform before the man confird it, suggesting that she’d either been here before or had received very detailed information from her superiors about this trip.
“Nergal… is that the true na of this ‘penitent’ guy?” Percy asked as soon as they hopped off the other end of the teleportation pad, seemingly located in the middle of a swamp.
The Maradorian nodded. “He can be considered their patron deity, though their feelings on him are understandably rather mixed. As you may have figured out already, Nergal’s Decree is their ancestral Decree. The one that made them… you know…” she explained, waving her index finger around her face.
Percy nodded too, her words confirming his earlier suspicions. “What did you an by ‘resting place’ though? Is Nergal dead?”
“He is. I’m not too familiar with the specifics, but he supposedly killed himself while casting his second Decree, partly to strengthen the new one, and partly to punish himself for his sins. I guess he hoped that the Penitent’s Decree would reverse the Ollorians’ deformities, though things clearly didn’t go as planned. It wasn’t until a long ti later that a different titan managed to stop the situation from worsening.”
Percy swallowed hard as he realized that Nergal might have not been as much of a genius as he and Kassorith had previously deduced. Sure, casting not one but two free-type Decrees was nothing to scoff at, but both had been severely flawed. The first had eternally cursed his people, while the second had consud his own life.
Once again, Percy reminded himself to think twice before possessing an Ollorian in the future. Other than figuring out how to avoid granting the Moirais’ Decree to his hosts, he should also learn how not to accidentally absorb new Decrees without fully understanding what they did.
Locating the sacred site wasn’t very difficult.
Kassorith and the attendant didn’t encounter any other Ollorians, rely having to follow the single, well-trodden path through the bog where the foliage had receded. Eventually, they reached a strange hill.
The place was pitch black, the natives having not even bothered to install any torches or enchantnts to illuminate the area. Was it out of carelessness, or spite toward the deceased deity?
Judging solely by the decrepit state of their cities, the forr was certainly possible, but Percy wouldn’t bla them for harbouring a grudge toward the dead titan either.
It was also possible that he was overthinking it, and the Ollorians just didn’t expect sobody qualified to receive the Decree to have much trouble navigating the swamp in near complete darkness. An assumption that would be fair – in Percy’s case at least – as his enhanced senses easily brushed over the small hill from a couple of kilotres away.
‘That’s not dirt!’ Micky pointed out in alarm, and even Kassorith couldn’t help but crease his brow.
On closer inspection, the “hill” was a huge pile of flesh and limbs, countless deford hands and misshapen feet flailing wildly across its surface. The sight caused the Thess’kalan to freeze in his tracks.
Percy carefully scanned the disturbing mass for any sign of a soul or a mana core, trying to determine whether it was alive, sohow. He found neither, though he didn’t know whether he should be relieved or horrified by that.
Clearly sensing their apprehension, the guide rushed to placate them. “I take it that you’ve caught sight of our destination already. Those are so sharp senses you’ve got there. But don’t worry. That thing is not really alive – it’s just what happened to Nergal’s body after he cast the Penitent’s Decree. Today, it’s rely the instrunt that grants his legacy to his inheritors.”
“That’s Nergal’s body?!” Percy blurted out in disbelief.
Nawko’s explanation had done very little to improve his mood. In his mind, gods were lofty beings who had ascended past their mortality, attaining not only eternal life, but also eternal youth, health and beauty. Reaching the Concept realm had been Percy’s dream for as long as he could rember, so seeing a deity reduced to this pathetic state didn’t sit well with him.
That said, they hadn’t co here to lant the titan’s grim fate, but to claim their new Decree.
Suppressing his disgust, he seized control of his host’s body once more, pushing forward. A small lake of putrid blood pooled at the base of the throbbing ball of flesh. Slightly fresher blood was gushing out of countless holes across the undying fountain, trickling down the bumpy landscape to supplent the pool.
The re thought of ingesting the vile substance made Percy recoil, his only solace being the fact that he wouldn’t be doing it with his own mouth. As for the owner of said mouth, the horrific sight had thankfully left him too numb to muster more than a weak protest as Percy leaned over the crimson surface.
Recalling the instructions, he knew that he had to personally scoop a handful of the liquid for this to work, so he didn’t bother to use his willpower or mana for the task. He only hoped that his host’s hand would suffice in place of his main body’s.
The mont the putrid sludge touched the Thess’kalan’s forked tongue, Percy cursed his enhanced senses for the first ti since he upgraded his mutation, though he forced both himself and his spectral companions to swallow the blood regardless.
An oddly cool feeling exploded out of their stomach almost imdiately, perating their flesh and bones. For a second, Percy was worried that he had made a mistake about the nature of the Decree, though his concerns were promptly put to rest.
The soothing sensation wasn’t hindered by their physical body in the slightest, seeping even deeper. Percy wasn’t sure what Kassorith was experiencing, but he personally felt the cool touch on his own wisp, gently remoulding it into sothing new. For all the flaws of Nergal’s Decrees, the titan had at least managed to make the acquisition smooth and painless enough.
The feeling died down after a couple of minutes, Percy’s Status swiftly informing him of his success.
[Congratulations! You have acquired a new Decree: Penitent’s Decree!]
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