Bro, I'm not an Undead!

Chapter 1244: Ashema's Reward



<I am in need of a new vessel. I will not last for long in this current state.> Boron said. <As it stands, I might be forced to return below to be sustained by my body. I do not wish to leave the plans I have to you all alone. That will not do. One of you must carry my soul.>

A stretch of silence followed.

The giant, statue-like marble existence within which Boron inhabited was seated atop a great, magnificently carved boulder. Fifteen much smaller, dark, stone-like Cavern were on Boron's figure, tended to him. They held what looked like bright cloths, washing the great lateral wound on his chest from which a stream of energy textured like soapsuds attempted to leak out of him in copious volumes.

Before and around the great Deity, a host of Carven could be seen, gazing at him reverently. Their numbers were enormous, and they sat in segregated groups according to their ranks. The nearer they were to Boron, the stronger they were.

Behind them all was a vast gaping pit in the ground, which had formerly been the Extreme Formula - a brand on Aigas meant to seal anything to do with the Under from the surface.

After Skullius and Replicus had finished their battle, Boron had given the permission for the rest of his Carven to rise through from the Under and now they gathered around him.

The Deity had expected to immediately command them to assault Aigas, and carry forward with his intentions, but Elita had thrown a wrench in his plans.

Boron was critically injured and his vessel wouldn't last long.

This was particularly annoying because the plans he had in mind were not limited to simply dismantling Aigas as revenge for what Quintess, Listafelle and now Suzamete, had done to him. He couldn't trust his Cavern with some of the more delicate work that was required.

Boron cast his eyes heavily over his subjects.

The silence that followed after his words was not born from hesitation.

All the Cavern were burning with the desire to be his vessel, but they wouldn't voice it. Just because Boron asked, did not mean that he required an answer from them.

There was strict conduct that was to be observed before Boron, established in the Under, and this fact was engrained in all the Carven.

Most importantly, though, most of the Carven did not have the capabilities to contain Boron's power.

The Herald whom Boron had taken over had been especially bred to contain his power for a very long time. There could be no other better replacement that could be provided immediately.

However, among the Carven, there did exist possible temporary options: those that had reached Divinity.

Boron would choose from among them.

"Let me be your vessel, Lord Boron."

All the Carven were surprised.

They turned, some with eyes livid with bloodlust at the individual who had just spoken.

It was a Carven with large, twisted horns, charred-looking skin and one gleaming eye. It was Ashema.

He stared at Boron boldly, disregarding all the condemning eyes burning at his outline.

"Please, let me become your vessel," he stated again.

Many would have protested and called him insolent for even speaking aloud.

Many would have risen and ripped him to shreds for his gall.

But they didn't.

Ashema had known they wouldn't, not in Lord Boron's presence.

A part of him was surprised by his own boldness. Before rising up to Aigas, Ashema would have never dared to stand against custom and tradition like this. He was not above it. He never considered himself enough to speak in front of Lord Boron if not given the permission to do

so.

As playful, curious and eager as he might have been, Ashema wasn't ignorant or keen on disregarding anything from his homeland - values he had been bred to understand.

Yet bits of him had changed. Cracks in this solid foundation had formed.

The one to inflict these cracks was none other than Skullius, whom he had spent a few days following from Opungale to Feinheath.

There was a tantalising air of freedom around that man - how he travelled across the world, doing whatever he pleased, saying whatever he wished and ignoring even the most profound powers that inspired Ashema for just this one moment.

Boron considered him.

<I have not forgotten you, little one. You were the one that stood between me and treachery earlier today. For such a valiant effort, I was prepared to give you a gracious reward.> he said.

Ashema bowed his head.

"Becoming your vessel is reward enough for me. It's enough for any of us, my Lord," he said.

The sharp glares of the Carven around him softened at these words.

<Hmm. Indeed.> Boron said. <But you are unsuitable. You cannot become my vessel.>

Ashema raised his head.

"You could make it so that I was suitable."

<Indeed. I could.>

Boron smiled.

Such commitment.

The process of becoming a vessel for most meant the extinguishment of their souls, especially with how Boron wholly settled a great portion of his soul within them.

Such would happen to Ashema as well.

<No.> Boron said.

Ashema was baffled.

<You deserve a greater reward for your service. I sense your devotion far exceeds your desire for wanton disaster. For that, I will reward that latter ambition of yours. I will give you the

chance to swim in it.>

Ashema felt a pulse of joy.

Well, that hadn't been what he had expected.

To think that Lord Boron would choose to allow him to run rampant, as he desired, rather

than to become his vessel.

He grinned.

<I cannot grant you Divinity. You know that.> Boron said to him. <But I can allow you a package that will help you reach it sooner rather than later. Perhaps you will not achieve that strength on this world, but the next or the next after that.>

Indeed, even Deities could not grant Divinity. Divinity was a lonesome mission.

Ashema was trembling with excitement.

What exactly was Lord Boron planning to give him?

The Deity's body shone with immense power. However immense it was, however, it was far from what Boron could muster at his peak. He was slowly losing control of his body and he had exhausted much of his strength by bypassing the Rules of Aigas to make the drapes of time Skullius had made fix onto the present Aigas.

His Divine energy surged.

<From this campaign and onward, you shall lead my armies. You will be my seventh General. You will grow into that title and the power it commands.> he said and raised his hand to pointn/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

at Ashema. <And to accomplish that...>

The Carven around Ashema drew away him.

Their peer was about to be blessed.

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