Chapter 1174: Psionic Morph
Titanion Realm, Stoneheart City.
Orion’s eyes snapped open. A wave of raw power, a palpable pressure, radiated from him, startling Elara, who was gently stroking the shell of a World Dragon egg.
"Daddy, you scared !" the little girl chirped, patting her chest with a tiny hand before her expression shifted to one of pure curiosity.
The residual intensity of his breakthrough receded. Orion reined in the wild exhilaration bubbling within him and reached out, ruffling Elara’s hair.
"Sorry, kiddo. Didn’t an to frighten you."
"You didn’t!" she insisted, though he’d clearly seen the flicker of primal fear in her eyes—the instinctual reaction of any being, no matter how special, in the face of overwhelming power.
"How much longer for your eggs?" Orion asked, glancing at the two colossal eggs that dominated the chamber. Elara ca here every day, patiently channeling her own unique energy into them.
At first, Orion had assud the incubation period for the World Dragons was fixed. But he’d soon realized that Elara’s daily infusions were shortening the ti. Her energy was a strange and wonderful thing, without a fixed elent, infinitely adaptable. It could be whatever she willed it to be. The phenonon was a source of constant amazent and no small amount of envy for Orion. The natural talent of a World Spirit, he mused. It was the only explanation that made sense of the impossible things he saw her do.
"I don’t know!" Elara said with a shrug. "But it shouldn’t be too long now! I have to go, Daddy. My little brother should be awake from his nap!"
She gave her favorite egg one last pat, and with a cheerful smile, vanished in a silent shimr of displaced air.
Orion stared at the empty space for a mont before his gaze returned to the eggs. He closed his eyes again, but this ti, his focus turned inward. His consciousness sank into his own data stream, to the new entry that had jolted him from his ditative slumber.
[Divine Art: Psionic Morph - Roar of Resolve]
Description: A power that makes thought reality. Your belief is the architect of existence. It allows the user to command their emotions and thoughts, forcing the world to resonate with their will.
Effect 1: Psionic Sense. Perceive the existence and intent of surrounding creatures by sensing their emotional and ntal fluctuations. Range and precision are dependent on the user’s psionic strength.
Effect 2: Psionic Roar. Unleash a concussive blast of raw emotion and willpower, capable of stunning or disorienting targets.
Effect 3: Psionic Morph. Manifest the user’s will into a physical form.
Note:
Manifested Form 1: Roc. Your mind takes the form of a Roc, granting you its combat abilities.
It was a Divine Art. His first. And a rare psionic one at that. Outside of his Mind Pact ability, it was the first purely ntal skill he had ever acquired, a gift from the titan god who had guided him.
Compared to the brutish Devouring Beast he could summon with the Scroll of the Devouring Avatar, the Roc was on an entirely different plane of existence. It was this very power that had allowed him to turn the tables in the bloodline space. Not that the Devouring Beast was useless; it still had its purpose.
Will... is the storm... the blade...
Orion sank deeper into thought, savoring the aftertaste of this newfound power like a connoisseur appreciating a fine vintage.
***
Godforsaken Land, Cretaceous World.
Sunlight stread through the canopy of massive, palm-like trees, casting dappled shadows on the jungle floor. Within the shade of the sprawling ferns, a colossal creature stirred, and a pair of yellow, reptilian eyes blinked open.
Before it could let out a roar, a figure scrambled deftly onto its back, slamming a heavy taming collar onto the base of its skull.
The Apex Phantom Spinosaurus, which had been thrashing wildly, suddenly went still. Its labored breathing evened out, its struggles ceasing. A mont later, it rose to its full, terrifying height and stalked out of the shadows.
ROAR!
The shockwave of its cry flattened the surrounding vegetation. Smaller reptiles and birds scattered in a panic.
"Whoa... Rolan, you actually did it!"
Slagor, Tarn, and Hamrhoof erged from their positions, circling the now-docile beast. They had been hunting this single Apex predator for seven days, and today, their efforts had finally paid off.
"Heh, it was all thanks to you guys," Rolan said, hopping down from the Spinosaurus’s back. He was buzzing with excitent at having captured such a powerful mount, but he was also sheepish. They had agreed to take turns trying to subdue it, and he felt a pang of guilt that he was the one who had succeeded.
"Don’t be humble, kid," Tarn said, clapping him on the shoulder. "We all had our shot these last few days and failed. This one was always ant to be yours." There was a flicker of envy in his eyes, but it was overshadowed by genuine pride. Still, it never felt great to be outdone by the rookie.
"With this Phantom Spinosaurus, I can help you guys scout for more targets," Rolan offered, eager to contribute.
Tarn’s own Bone Python had been killed in the last major battle, leaving him without a mount.
"I got a tip from the Sentinel Corps," Hamrhoof chid in, his eyes glued to the Spinosaurus. Its black scales seed to drink the light, making it nearly invisible in the shadows. "They spotted an Alpha Volt-plate Stegosaurus to the northwest. Think you can help
bag it?"
A sharp caw echoed from above. Arden circled overhead on his Storm Vulture before descending to join them.
"Heh. If it weren’t for my eyes, we’d never have been able to keep track of this monster," Arden said, landing nearby. "With beasts like this hiding in the jungle, the regular hunting parties from the Horde are going to have a rough ti." He’d grown close to the others after the intensity of their shared battles.
"Alright, you old buzzard," Slagor said, walking over. He and Arden went way back. "First, we help Hamrhoof get his Stegosaurus. Then, you’re helping
and Tarn track down so Riwing Pterosaurs."
"The Riwings won’t be easy," Arden warned. "They fly in flocks."
"Gotta be optimistic," Slagor bood. "Like the Lord says, you make your own luck. All we can do is give it a shot!" He needed a flying mount, and the Riwing’s frost affinity was a perfect match for his own abilities.
Tarn, a trident specialist like Orion, wanted a flying mount to revolutionize his fighting style, giving him a new dinsion of attack from the air.
Arden grinned. "Alright then. Let’s get to work."
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