Shadow of the Abyss

Chapter 166: Ironbloods

The pounding at the door grew louder, and the voice more hysterical, "Please, I don't want to die! I don't want to—"

Nia bolted for the door, slamming it open to the sight of two wolfish hellions approaching in the distance, their bodies ablaze with the flames of the hells. Each step turning the ground into molten rock.

"Altair!" She shouted.

And begrudgingly, he stood up, somehow trying to push down his libido. He glared down at the woman, penetrating her mind with [Schizophrenia]; he did the same with the hellions in the distance. In seconds, the two began tearing into the other, snapping flesh from bones, in a vicious brawl, convinced the other was the young lady they were chasing.

Nia shuddered, looking at the scarlet-eyed boy. She had never seen a more outrageous ability and wondered if she, too, was under his spell like Laros. Nia had only visibly relaxed when his eyes shifted to black.

"Thank You! Thank You!" Cried the young woman, falling to her knees. She began to ball ugly tears from her dirtier face that looked as if it hadn't been washed in months by the way green moss flourished from around her chin.

[Divine Being She Who Hunts suggests you listen carefully.]

Altair ears perked. This had been the first message from the gods since he arrived in Yarwin. He narrowed his gaze to the young woman suspiciously. She was barely in the second circle, with somewhat mediocre attributes, though her unique skill did catch his eye.

World Communicator

Rank: A

Grade: Transcendent

[Description: Allows the user the ability to communicate with the World.]

And for a second, his gaze dwindled to disappointment that such a grand gift had been squandered on a human of all things.

"Thank You! Thank You! My name is Zola Flynn." She began in a deep, ninety-degree bow. " I'm a herbalist with the Ironbloods."

"Ironbloods?" Said Reina, somewhat interested in the herbalist. In alchemy, there had only ever been three Pillars; one was required to learn to refine various pills, potions, and balms: Herbalism, Transmutation, and Pyromancy.

Zola looked up with moss-green eyes. "Yes, I'm from the Twentieth Floor of Babel's Tower." She said, startling everyone.

"... The Twentieth." Altair took a deep breath. "But you're so weak. How?"

The young woman felt her face heat up. "I was born there," She explained. "I've no talent with a sword or spear. So..."

Zola wanted to mock him for asking such a stupid question but felt ashamed she'd ever have such a thought towards one so great.

'Before him, I am a worm, a dumpster he may do with as he pleases,' She thought, convinced her thoughts were her's and hers alone.

Altair had no idea what she was thinking or that the Band of the Incubus was affecting his manipulation in ways he never would allow.

"The Ironbloods are one of the largest factions within Babel's Tower." Said Zola warmly, her moss-green eyes fixed upon the Prince, "And are one of the oldest. Their origins date back to some Ancient realm known as Elysium. They are one of the Seven Great Fractions of the Tower. "

'Yet they were nearly annihilated by some lesser demons. Not even real ones, much less purebloods. Lesser Demons.'

Altair was beside himself on the matter. He understood demons were powerful, but he somehow expected more out of the denizens of Babel's Tower.

Having lost a majority of interest in Zola, Altair leaned onto Reina as she began Inquiring about various techniques herbalists used to maintain and grow various types of herbs. Zola had been more than willing to answer each question, even going as far as to reach into the sack she'd had on her hip that acted much like Drupnir and removed dozens of books.

Altair mildly paid attention, seeing how far he could push [Schizophrenia] from the moment she entered the carriage. Zola had not even acknowledged Laros sucking away at the balls of his master's feet, removing any sort of dirt she might have earned.

It was only then Altair seemed to realize the horrors of this technique. Beneath [Schizophrenia], everyone whom his eyes crossed with could potentially be his thrall. He could manipulate the sense of touch, smell, biological responses, and emotions such as anger and lust. Anything his mind craved or wanted was open to him.

He gulped, 'The [Eyes of Sacrilege] truly were horrifying. If I were evil... I could do a lot of damage with this.' he thought, narrowing his gaze to Nia, and he shook his head, dismissing the idea of removing parts of her personality he didn't like. It wasn't right. Not when she wasn't an enemy.

"That's why pyromancy is so important." Zola was saying to Ren when Altair spoke up.

"You were saying something about a treasure. Might you still have it?" He asked, vaguely recalling the matter.

"Oh yes!" Said Zola happily. She reached into her bag, pulling out a three-inch blood-red shard that gleamed beautifully like a garnet. "This is a Shard of Blood," She proudly showcased, tracing her fingers along its edge. "That houses the Mortal Dao of Blood within its depths. Slit your finger along the edge, and all its knowledge engraved within its depths will belong to yours.

Or you can take the long road and study it by infusing mana into it."

"I've got one of those!" Said Ren, opening her palm as a large eight-inch shard sprang out of nowhere into her hand. Dark-like obsidian with glimmers of multicolored light spirling into webs shone within the crystal." It was a reward for killing—" she stopped herself, turning to Altair.

The subject of Aria was still a touchy one. Altair still felt guilty about her death and, in many ways, had been sad about it.

"It's a Chaos Shard." She continued. " I had been wondering what it did, but you said used to what exactly?"

"gives knowledge or skills," Zola answered. "I'm not sure who invented these shards, but the longer a shard is, the denser the knowledge housed within its depths."