Chapter 104: The Risk of Light
Inside the inn the homely familial energy continued transmitting itself. They shared toasts and enjoyed sumptuous dinners. But upstairs, in the rooms, there was a totally different scene.
Gabriel remained unusually silent, judging the previous actions that had led him to that result. Probably his offer of two gold coins had been too high.
When wealth grows, it clouds the judgment of the rich landowner. He did not even possess lands in his name. Only an old linen bag with beautiful gold coins.
But above all, in his mind the information he had managed to obtain from his brief but intense exchange reconstructed itself. "The ring" was an element that kept repeating before him.
On his right hand the shining insignia of Regent spun. It was an object he had obtained in a past, upon being the only one to survive unharmed, recovering a valuable recognition in the criminal underworld.
He still had not had time to organize himself and achieve a recognition about the use and valuation of the insignia. He would ask Edward, the strangely erudite alchemist.
With a sigh, he took out the daggers he had obtained from the ruins.
______________
[Piercing Daggers of the Primordial Night]
[Status: Unique]
Description: Forged in a very ancient time under unknown conditions. They were the daggers that pierced Noxx, the God of the Primordial Night, containing the Fragment of Darkness.
Warning: It is a weapon extremely damaged by the Original Source. If it enters into contact with sacred, luminous, or divine energy, it runs the risk of being revealed before the Light.
_____________
God of the Primordial Night? Fragment of Darkness? Original Source? Light?
His mind was immediately impacted by concepts he totally unknown. A set of facts that were still far too distant from him.
How did I get this damned thing? he thought with a blank mind. It was simply improbable that such a valuable object would fall into the hands of a nobody like him.
Usually it belonged to famous characters, known names, or individuals who belonged to verifiable lineages. Basically: they had influence.
But he belonged to the lower neighborhoods of Neo-Atlas Inferior. The most postponed part of society, only ahead of the industrial dump of the outskirts.
"What is all this shit...?" he murmured with a tired voice.
_____________
WARNING!
THE USER MUST BIND THE WEAPON HE POSSESSES WITH HIS FORCE IMMEDIATELY OR IT IS POSSIBLE THAT THE PRIMORDIAL ENERGY WILL ALERT THE ENERGY OF THE WORLD.
______________
With a precise cut, his hand opened in a deep wound. The blood sprayed warmly over its silver and shadowy surface, feeding a dark presence inside the dagger.
Like a hungry demon, it absorbed his remaining blood with an impetus similar to his Gluttony. Strange symbols he did not know appeared on the back of its edge, engraving a signature.
The daggers finally belonged to him, becoming entirely his and losing the risk of mixing with the energy of the world.
"I just dodged a disaster. These daggers..." his voice cut off from the uncertainty. Dealing with the shock that such a valuable object produced in him.
During his extensive afternoons reading the forums, he had already heard about phenomena of that nature. Generally they were produced by elements that were too powerful.
Celestial medicines, legendary weapons, or a trail of ancient history that enveloped the margins of The Heaven Above All. In very rare cases they caused a pulse that alerted all users and NPCs in the surroundings.
Baptized as the Phenomenon of the Heavens, it was a very discussed topic despite its rarity.
He checked the state of the Daggers with anxiety, moving them between his rapid and experienced hands. The weight felt perfect, without any recoil effect, enjoying a wide freedom.
It was the perfect weapon for an assassin.
But outside of its technical parameters, it revealed no kind of divine effects. It had no active or passive skills attached. They were so simple that they became inconsequential.
They do not seem a divine weapon. But were they really from the beginning? It was the edge that tore the vestments of that two-bit god. His mind was confused about the real origin or the skills that preceded the reputation of its name and description.
Even so, he managed to distinguish that he would probably only discover its value upon having his first real confrontation. The scientific vision through the perception of data often proved to be imprecise.
Who had decided it? He. He did not trust the quantity of words or their numbers.
His perception as a human and citizen often varied from the official current. Therefore he would only demonstrate the value of the daggers upon tearing monstrous flesh and stealing the life of a beast.
"Little one, were you waiting for me?" He said while searching among his belongings. An immobile egg stood out among all his objects.
Its appearance was not as impressive as the egg of a dragon, but neither was it as insignificant as the egg of a rhea.
With delicacy he manipulated it between his hands, feeling how its warm shell pulsed between his fingers. It constantly transmitted to him an infantile sensation in constant growth.
After feeding it for the first time, it had fallen into a deep sleep processing the nutrients it had obtained. Finally it had awakened after a long daydream.
"Let’s see how much you can eat today, little one. If you fall into another sleep, make sure to grow like a dragon in your next transformation." He murmured silently, maintaining the insensitivity that characterized him.
Looking with irony at the cut on his hand, he had to choose the other hand. With a second cut, the thick and delicious energy emerged. The mood of the egg awakened and it was immediately attracted to the origin of the food that attracted it.
He swore he heard in his mind: "Yummy, yummy."
The process lasted a dozen seconds, until finally the creature in full growth fed abundantly and decided that it could not absorb more.
"Damned devils, a human body only has 6 liters of blood on average..." He said in a low voice. His composure had been slightly affected, invaded by a slight sensation of weakness.
Caressing his soft white hair, he sighed with satisfaction. There existed no other reason to remain inside the video game and finally he could return to his old and small apartment to rest.
He made a small analysis of having done everything and prepared to disconnect.
The atmosphere that enveloped the modest room was warm, returning a soft embrace to its guests. For that reason he had not perceived when the mist had begun to emerge from the corners.
It was a mist extremely similar to the one that arose inside the forests where the witches reigned. But even so he remained totally ignorant of its existence, until it was too late.
From very, very far away, a bloodied figure returned his gaze.
The shiver that followed froze his blood.