A Novel Concept - A death a day, MC will live anyway! -
Chapter 338: Priam's Grief
End of a quintuple Tribulation.
Priam sobbed, clutching Jasmine against him. Under his fingers, the warmth and softness of her skin made it seem like she was merely sleeping. It was a lie, but a part of him desperately wanted to believe it.
With a trembling hand, Priam brushed aside a strand of hair that had fallen across her face. He studied her features and was struck by how young she looked. It was easy to forget when she played the role of a sharp-tongued, sultry assassin, but Jasmine had barely seen twenty summers. She should have had her whole life ahead of her.
The thought lodged a sob in his throat, and for a fleeting moment, Priam wished he was still trapped in a nightmare. Maybe this was just another dream, another layer of his Tribulations?
Reality was too cruel for that.
His friend was dead, smote by the System itself—and no simple resurrection token could overturn such a judgment.
Jasmine was gone, and there was nothing he could do to bring her back. Wiping away a tear that blurred his vision, Priam gazed down at her. Her shadow-woven dress had not withstood the System’s wrath, and the sight of her bare body stoked the embers of his anger. Jasmine's Concept had once cloaked her magnetic beauty in a veil of magic; death had stripped her without mercy.
Summoning a gown of mist to protect what dignity she had left, Priam could only see at what he considered an immense waste.
“I hate death,” murmured the one who had eluded it time and time again.
Today, the Reaper had taken revenge. A broken body lay in the arms of a man who did not deserve the love of the soul that had once inhabited it.A love that had killed her.
“You saved me… and now I’m alone,” Priam whispered. He hadn’t realized how much space Jasmine had come to occupy in his day, how deeply she had woven herself into his life until she had become…
“Become what?” Priam wasn’t sure.
“And now, it’s too late,” he choked, stroking her hair. That future would never be, because she was gone.
The sound of muffled sniffles faded in the bunker as his emotions twisted into a storm within him. He no longer knew what to feel, what to think. Grief, denial, loneliness—each emotion vied for dominance in his heart. But one emotion rose above the rest: fury. A wrath that needed an outlet.
The distant clatter of falling stone caught his attention. Dust swirled in the dim light, marking the collapse of an unstable pile of rubble. Just beside it lay the massive head of a dying wyrm. The sight ignited something raw and violent within the Juggernaut.
Gently laying Jasmine down, he turned toward the enemy.
“You stupid piece of shit. You couldn’t just focus on me?” His voice was a low growl. “Why did you go after her?!”
Anger boiled inside him, and Priam let it flow through his fists. Without even bothering to summon Promesse, he simply began hammering the wyrm’s skull with his bare hands. A few times, a karmic link rebounded a fraction of the damage back onto him, but the Juggernaut welcomed the pain. It felt like penance.
“Jasmine left you alive so I could claim your bloodline!” His nails tore into the wyrm’s flesh. “I was the enemy! I killed your mistress! I was going to execute your summoner!”
Beneath his onslaught, fractures began to spiderweb across the beast’s skull. “Why did you have to target her?!”
His mind, frayed by grief, latched onto paranoia. “If I ever find out someone made you do this…”
Priam froze mid-strike, suddenly aware of the dead silence that had fallen over the bunker. Down here, underground, there wasn’t even the whisper of wind to carry his threats away. Pain was driving him mad, and he was lashing out like a fool.
But what else could I do?
Jasmine was dead, and Priam was clawing at the void she had left in his heart, desperate for something to fill it.
He needed to understand. “All this… for what?!”
Breath hitching, Priam staggered back, staring down at his hands. The skin over his knuckles had split open under the force of his blows, drenching his fingers in crimson blood. It felt like it was hers.
“To spare me a difficult choice,” he murmured. “If I had killed my nemesis when I had the chance, she’d still be alive. My hesitation murdered her just as surely as this beast did.”
Grief stole his voice. His rage spent, Priam summoned Promesse and ended the wyrm. Turning away, he knelt beside Jasmine and sighed. With the Necromoon’s abominations so close, he couldn’t risk letting their foul power defile her body the way they had Mirscella’s. Summoning a flame in his palm, Priam brought it close to her face. He would burn her before they could take her.
At the last moment, his hand froze.
“I’m sorry.”
The words rang hollow, but what else could he say? He lingered for a few more seconds, waiting for a response that would never come. Clenching his teeth hard enough to make his jaw crack, Priam released his fire.
Pyro devoured her body, leaving only a swirl of ashes…
And a black tattoo.
Even at their first meeting, Jasmine had possessed several tattoos. Far from being merely decorative, their purpose was to enhance certain aspects of her assassin abilities. Patterns designed to interact with aether, these pseudo-runes were a secret art known only to the guild that had trained her. The further she had walked the path of the Shadow Concept, the more she had covered her body in those tattoos.
The one that had survived Pyro dated back to their visit to the Colosseum. Priam’s eyes widened as he recalled the rewards of the fiftieth wave.
Reward: Mythical object.
Semi-unique reward. Whatever you choose will no longer be available to anyone else in your civilization in that reward round.
- Polymorphic weapon
- Leviathan egg
- Ring of ubiquity
- Space Seed
- Second life Tattoo
Priam had chosen the Space Seed, which had later become Concepts Archipelago. Could it be that Jasmine…?
The tattoo pulsed, shifting, stretching into the silhouette of a woman. A flash of black forced Priam to blink.
When he opened his eyes, Jasmine’s face was staring back at him.
“You—”
The words died in his throat as his mind struggled to process the absurdity of what he was seeing. Was this some cruel joke? Had his grief been a lie? If his sorrow was meaningless, had his rage been worthless too?
It was stupid, irrational even, but Priam felt betrayed.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Jasmine’s arms wrapped around his neck, and as she pulled him down with her, Priam toppled to the ground. His turmoil shattered the moment he felt her sobbing against his chest.
“Why are you crying?”
“…I forgot about that tattoo.”
Priam’s eyes widened—then, he snorted, sniffled, and laughed. Jasmine had acted, believing she would die.
And if she had been able to return to life, then so could his joy.
The feeling swept through Priam’s soul, washing away his doubts and fears.
“Never do that to me again,” he said, holding her tightly.
“Mmh. It was a consumable item.”
“All the more reason! And put some damn clothes on.”
Forty minutes later, Priam helped Jasmine to her feet. She wore a skirt of shadows and a t-shirt of mist, while he had summoned a coat of flame over his spotless boxers.
“Is it over?” the young woman asked, surveying the carnage.
“Almost,” Priam replied, turning to the spot where he had vaporized the zoophilic elf. “I won according to the law of dragons.”
Something deep inside him stirred—a silent roar that rippled through the aether. A whirlwind of ash rose from the scorched ground—the only remnant of the draconic elf—before condensing. Gray and black gave way to gold, revealing a single drop of bloodline essence floating in the air.
“Is it safe?” Jasmine asked. “That pervert was corrupted to the bone.”
“Even the System respects dragons. I won, and the Necromoon has no choice but to yield,” Priam answered, listening to the draconic instinct thrumming in his veins.
The Juggernaut stepped forward and plucked his reward like a ripe fruit. The liquid coursed into his palm, sinking through his skin, threading into his veins and arteries. A shiver ran down his spine as the elixir purified his bloodline.
Bloodlines:
- Phoenix: 3%
- Dragon: 3% (+1% via Draconic Victory)
[Update:
Draconic Vivacity: You possess multiple (two) streams of thought, each powered by 95% of your vivacity. Base: 75% +20% from Chimera.]
“Nice. And after the rider, the mount.”
Despite the rawness of his emotions, Priam forced a smile and approached the wyrm’s skull. Through the hole he had carved with his own fists, he spotted an organ submerged in necrotic fluid. The artificial creation didn’t even have a proper brain.
Wrinkling his nose in disgust, he rolled up his mist-woven sleeves and extracted a heart larger than his own.
“What do we have here…” he murmured as the dragon within him stirred, roused by hunger.
[Heart of a draconic necro chimera - Mythic - Tier 0] - The core of a sphinx fused with the bloodline essence of a wyrm through the curse of an undead Duke. Sculpted by a necromantic genius, strengthened by the sacrifice of millions of corrupted souls, this heart served as the engine of a terror of the skies.
“Blueberry’s shits smell better than that,” Jasmine groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna eat that too?”
Priam shook his head. “That would be a waste. This is an ideal trophy for my tempering.”
“Keep that thing away from me.” She frowned. “Is it just me, or does it look familiar?”
“It's a gift from Sphinx.”
“A gift from—” Jasmine cursed under her breath.
“I know. This time, she went too far,” Priam frowned. “I promise—”
“No, it's not her fault.”
“What? I know she meant well, but you nearly died!”
“I asked Sphinx and Moonie to prepare you a birthday present,” Jasmine admitted. “And I'm sure she had nothing to do with it showing up here. If anything, Sphinx would have wanted to be there to see your reaction.”
Priam opened his mouth, then shut it. Jasmine’s explanation made sense, and his young friend couldn’t be held responsible if his Tribulation had yanked the gift from another world. Whether it was bad luck or karma’s whim, the responsibility lay as much with Jasmine or Priam as it did with the young sphinx.
“Well, at least it’s a damn good gift,” Priam said with a grin.
“Really?”
“Maybe the best trophy I could’ve hoped for my Karma Gate.”
Status:
PHYSICAL:
Strength 915
Constitution 1 624
Agility 1 256
Vitality 1 643
Perception 884
MENTAL:
Vivacity (D) 634
Dexterity 787
Memory 979
Willpower 1 221
Charisma 894
META:
Meta-affinity (O) 1 103
Meta-focus 633
Meta-endurance 1 122
Meta-perception 558
Meta-chance 678
Meta-authority 555
Potential: 26 669
Tier 0
Sun points: 1 143 444
[He Who Eludes Death] charge: OFF. Reloaded in 16 hours 36 minutes 6 seconds.
Concepts:
- Breath (T0): 100% / Harmony
- Fire (T0): 100% / Unity
- Pyro (T1): 100% / Unity
- Mist (T1): 100% / Symphony
Bloodlines:
- Phoenix: 3%
- Dragon: 3% (+1%)
Rewards standing:
- Fusion Token - Skill (Epic)
- Affinity Token - Tier 1 (30%)
- Alien Concept fragment (7th Terror)
- Talent Token - Upgrade (Seraph)
- Revelation Token - Ideal Prerequisites (Epic)
- Colosseum VIP Token
- Minor skill Epiphany
- Seed of Potential
- Trophy Compass
[Tribulation]: Two Tribulations pending.
Future Tribulations delayed until:
Time: 29 days 18 hours 36 minutes 54 seconds.
Next thresholds: 12 attributes > 900 / 6 attributes > 1 200 / 1 attribute > 1 800
Tribulations ended and next arc already complete on Patreon if you want to find out what happens next!
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