Marvel: Impregnation System

Chapter 74: Chapter 73: In Wait For The Inevitable Duel

2 days later,

"SUCH MASTERY, I MUST KNOW YOUR SECRETS!" Alexander gushed, practically squealing as he darted towards Percival in Ricky's room.

Percival glanced at Ricky, who was massaging his forehead at the situation bubbling before him.

Ever since the duel preparations had begun, Ricky had been stuck as the middleman between the two, and the constant back-and-forth had turned into a nagging headache of pure annoyance.

"Here, Alexander." Ricky flicked his translator ring over, not wanting to play mediator any longer as the gerbil scurried to catch it, a glint of curiosity in his eyes as he inspected the ring.

"How does this artifact work?" Alexander asked, his voice filled with curiosity, touching the engravings as Percival blinked in surprise, stunned to realize he could suddenly understand the gerbil standing in front of him.

"You can talk?" Percival asked, his brow furrowing in disbelief as Alexander nodded, a smug grin spreading across his face as he crossed his tiny arms.

"Not only can I now speak, but I am the former king of Macedonia, Alexander the great." Alexander declared proudly, his chest puffed up as Percival's eyes widened in shock as he quickly glanced toward Ricky for confirmation.

"Yes, Alexander the great is now my Gerbil." Ricky muttered, trying to smother himself with a pillow while Percival, still in disbelief, bent down in respect toward Alexander.

"I grew up on your tales in a distant past, and I must say, you are my hero-"

Before long, both he and Alexander were geeking out over their respective tribulations, their voices growing animated.

Even Henry, the mockingbird, watched the spectacle with growing annoyance, eventually nudging Ricky, who groaned and buried his face deeper into the pillow.

"Yeah, let's get out of here and let these two love birds have their time alone," Ricky sighed, though his jab went completely unnoticed as the two remained utterly captivated by their discussion of battle.

With Henry perched atop his head, Ricky decided to take a stroll, but as he opened the door, he spotted Abraham standing there, quietly eavesdropping on the conversation between Percival and Alexander.

"Kid, is your Gerbil seriously Alexander the great?" Abraham straight out asked Ricky who nodded while walking past him.

"How many times are you going to ask me that? Yes, Alexander the Great is my gerbil," Ricky said with exasperation, brushing past Abraham.

Abraham, breathless, turned to watch him leave, a mix of disbelief and intrigue on his face.

"I-I thought you were joking-"

"Sometimes, I wish I was." Ricky spoke as Henry nodded along as the baffled Abraham caught up with him.

"Listen I'm here-"

"Just take me somewhere I won't get annoyed by priestly figures and I'll even listen to your slam poetry." Ricky turned to Abraham, who was slowly breaking into a smile.

"I know just the place."

10 minutes later,

"Ah~" Abraham let out a refreshed sigh, sipping on a scoop of wine from a barrel as Ricky lounged to the side.

"You can thank the Rothschilds for these puppies." Abraham chuckled, tapping the barrel as he took another scoop as Ricky raised an eyebrow.

"Rothschilds?"Ricky inquired, though Abraham wasn't surprised; their interactions were always low-key.

"An old banking family that's incredibly rich and powerful." Abraham spoke nonchalantly, guzzling down more barrel wine without a second thought.

"A bunch of rich assholes, if you ask me, but their wine is some of the best I've ever had, and they give it to the church for free," Abraham commented to Ricky, drinking the scoop full of wine clean before raising a brow to the side.

"You'd know that if you even took a sip," Abraham said, pointing his scoop at Ricky.

Since from the entire time they had been here, he watched the youngest alcoholic he'd ever seen remain unfazed by some of the best wine his world had to offer.

"I'm not really in the mood for wine, that's all." Ricky lied poorly, turning away while Abraham started laughing incredulously.

"You, the kid who always seems to be slightly buzzed or drunk whenever I see him, aren't in the mood for alcohol?" Abraham asked with an ironic tone, recalling Ricky's drunken escapades he'd heard about from the bar until the realization hit him.

"Wait a minute, when you came to me, you were sober, right?" Abraham's eyes widened in shock, and only one word trailed from his mouth in response to his own realization.

"Why?" Abraham genuinely asked, giving the floor to the silent Ricky who sighed.

"Honestly, I don't know." Ricky leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose at the sudden conundrum that had plagued him as of late.

It wasn't that Ricky was willingly abstaining from alcohol; it was that every time he drank, it tasted rotten.

"Ever since Eddy died and I try to drink anything, I just hurl it back in disgust." Ricky sighed, actually confining to the drunkard that is Abraham.

Ricky's relationship with alcohol had shifted dramatically after Eddy's death.

What once might have been a means of escape or camaraderie had become a source of torment.

The memories associated with drinking now carried a heavy weight of grief, transforming the taste of alcohol into a rotting reminder of loss.

"I see." Abraham nodded his head, leaning back as Ricky turned to look at him.

"Honestly though, I really do think I have a problem, and if it weren't for the taste, I'd probably be drinking all the time," Ricky said, a smile creeping onto his face, almost chuckling as he acknowledged his own flawed nature.

But after seeing Danielle and realizing that all of his guides were bartenders, Ricky felt a deep wave of depression wash over him.

His subconscious was completely saturated with thoughts of alcohol and everything related to it.

Instead of retreating to memories of his childhood home, traumatic experiences, or other potential buffers, his mind had chosen a bar as its refuge, which felt deeply insulting.

It was as if the very essence of his coping mechanism had twisted into something he once enjoyed, now tainted by grief and loss.

"Well, the first step is admitting it." Abraham cheered his scoop of wine towards the air, watching Ricky let out a cynical laughter.

*SIGH*

Abraham let out a sigh, rubbing his eyes before tossing the scoop back into the barrel as he straightened up to look at Ricky.

"Listen, there are three ways you can go from here in terms of drinking." Abraham began, actually giving some advice to Ricky instead of laughing at him.

"One, you can be like me and never change, drinking all the time. Two, you can go cold turkey and never touch a drop again, becoming some pansy loser. Or three." Abraham slowly raised a finger with each iteration until he reached the last one.

"Just don't let it control you." Abraham gave the last option, looking at Ricky who stared at the fingers.

"It's really easy to lose yourself in something that helps take you away from the moment," Abraham continued, his tone serious as he put down his finger and leaned back.

"But it's another thing entirely to enjoy the moment and still be able to drink without letting it control you." Abraham then let out a small sigh, looking at the barrel of wine in regret.

"Honestly, I could never let go of the first option," Abraham admitted, his voice softer as he slowly closed his wrinkled eyes.

"It's so much easier to numb everything rather than confront it." Abraham paused, his gaze distant while taking another scoop of wine.

"But don't be like me. You only grow from that pain, and I've chosen to stay entirely stuck in the moment." Abraham then downed a large helping of wine, letting the rich flavor of the barrel wine wash over him, numbing the pain he refused to face.

For the first time in his life, Ricky looked at his coping mechanism without feeling the usual sense of escape, he simply looked at it.

It was just wine, plain and simple, something anyone could see but until now, Ricky had viewed the liquid as a way to numb everything, exactly like Abraham had said.

Slowly, as Ricky stared at his reflection in the wine, something shifted inside him.

Deep down, Ricky had a sudden epiphany, he didn't need the wine to cope anymore.

The realization hit him unexpectedly, but with a sense of clarity that he hadn't felt in a long time.

He was troubled, he knew that, but the real struggle had always been confronting his problems.

And now, for the first time, he was doing just that.

Ricky had already vowed that he didn't want to be the man he used to be and as he picked up the scoop of wine, he rejected option one; he refused to stay stuck in the same cycle.

Option two felt like running away, and that wasn't who he wanted to be either and so Ricky made his choice, he would control it.

And with that, he took a sip.

Immediately, Ricky could tell the difference as it wasn't rotten, nor did it numb his tongue like before as it was refreshing, clean, almost as if he was truly tasting wine for the first time.

Then Ricky started to laugh, covering his face in disbelief at how simple it all was as he didn't need to take another sip if he didn't want to, and that realization filled him with relief.

Abraham watched from the side, actually smiling for once as he saw a bit of himself in Ricky and knew all too well how easy it was to get lost.

Despite not particularly liking the kid, he was genuinely glad that Ricky wouldn't follow the same lonely path he had chosen, one filled with isolation and regret, but something better.

"So, what can I do for you, Abraham?" Ricky asked, setting the scoop of wine down and gesturing toward the old man, who quickly hid his smile behind a gruff expression.

"Alright, be real with me, are you part angel?" Abraham genuinely asked Ricky, a hint of confusion in his voice, since that aura was something he had only ever seen used by angels or holy beings.

"No idea." Ricky lied, though it wasn't entirely unintentional as he felt a flicker of uncertainty, but the truth was buried deep within him, just out of reach.

At this point, he honestly wasn't sure of himself anymore; perhaps he was part angel, given how unexpected it felt to be connected to Sir Percival from the Round Table.

*SIGH*

"Well, that little stunt you pulled earlier has thrown the Vatican up in arms." Abraham gestured, recalling the entire display Ricky had put on two days ago.

"Because of the holy power, right? What's so special about it-"

"Kid, holy power isn't something you're simply born with; it takes years of faith and worship to accumulate." Abraham shook his head, a look of aggrievement crossing his face as he recalled his own lessons on the subject.

"That sucks for them," Ricky laughed, finding it hilarious that he had gained this power by basically sleeping around rather than being a virgin his whole life like the other priests.

"Yeah, some of those geezers absolutely loathe you now because they wasted forty years of their lives to obtain just a fraction of what you showed back there." Abraham remarked, letting Ricky in on the reality of the situation, though he himself could care less about holy power and magic.

"Anything else?" Ricky asked, and Abraham put on a thinking expression, pondering the implications of Ricky's newfound power.

"Actually, yeah, stop bringing or showing weird-ass armor to people of the holy church who are known for literally burning people for less," Abraham condemned, gesturing toward the coat Ricky was wearing at that moment.

"Uh, I don't know what you mean." Ricky played the fool, already knowing this fact but his new trench coat was sort of a diva and whenever he took it out of hte system space it would start hitting him.

Honestly, it didn't click right away for Ricky how problematic it could be if the trench coat was discovered to be demonic; the only thing really shielding him was his holy power.

It was only after the fight with Percival that he recognized the potential consequences, his naivety on full display once again.

However instead of brushing it off, Ricky understood he was walking on a tightrope until he secured the black knight position, which was why he wanted to shelve his armor until he was sure they couldn't kick him out.

However, his trench coat hated being in his inventory, so he kept it in his room and when they left, he coated it with his aura, but even then, Abraham's keen instincts picked up on its presence.

"Listen, for some reason, until this stupid trial is over, your actions reflect on me, so just don't get caught, and we'll be fine, alright?" Abraham gestured toward Ricky, unconcerned about how he was acquiring these trinkets but clearly emphasizing the importance of staying under the radar.

"That little aura of yours is hiding it for now, but as soon as someone starts asking questions, they'll really start looking for answers. So be careful, until you're not my problem anymore." Abraham clarified, clearly only concerned that it didn't blow back onto him rather than about Ricky's well-being.

"Alright, anything else." Ricky actually decided to take Abraham's advice, and much to his trench coat's displeasure, he shoved it back into his inventory space.

"Not really, but I thought I'd let you know that if you somehow lose to that brat, you'll still be offered an archbishop spot." Abraham suddenly revealed, raising Ricky's eyebrow in surprise.

"Does the church just get wet for holy power?" Ricky asked, and Abraham laughed while nodding his head in agreement.

"Of course, kid, those geezers nutted themselves when they saw you unleash your holy power," Abraham said, and they both laughed before he nudged Ricky playfully.

"Hey, you wanna have some fun?"

Meanwhile in the courtyard,

A priest walked by the garden, a smile blooming alongside the flowers as he bent down to smell a bouquet of roses as the vibrant colors and sweet scent seemed to brighten his spirits even more.

*Splat*

"Ah!" The priest suddenly recoiled as a broken egg splashed across his face, the cool, slimy contents dripping down his cheeks.

Before he could fully react, more eggs began to follow, splattering against him and the ground in a chaotic cascade.

*Splat*

*Splat*

*Splat*

"S-Stop it-" The priest held up his hands in defense, only to have an egg hit his forehead, knocking him backward.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Ricky and Abraham laughed maniacally as they started pelting the innocent priest with eggs, the air filled with their gleeful shouts and the sound of shells breaking and splattering all over his robes.

"DAMMIT ABRAHAM!" The priest scornfully scurried away, already knowing the culprits as Ricky sat on the roof of the church, a triumphant grin plastered across his face.

"And you never get in trouble for this?" Ricky looked back at Abraham, who shook his head in mock disapproval, a bemused smile creeping onto his face.

"I mean, they try, but I keep deferring my punishment to a higher council. The members never want to deal with a long verdict, so they usually just dismiss it," Abraham shrugged, a hint of exasperation in his voice as Ricky laughed harder at the absurdity of the broken system.

"The system is actually really broken-"

"Abraham."

"Uh oh." Abraham looked down to see Father Sebastian squinting his eyes with a clear scowl.

"What's wrong-"

"RUN!"

*SPLAT*

The eggs suddenly splattered all at once, and Ricky quickly covered himself with a shield, but Abraham wasn't so lucky.

He took the brunt of the mess, yolk and shell raining down on him as he groaned in disbelief, wiping his face in a futile attempt to clean up.

"Stop setting a bad example for Ricky and get down here," Father Sebastian said, struggling to hold back his laughter.

Ricky dropped down in front of him, a cheeky grin on his face, while Abraham had to awkwardly navigate his way down the scaffold, still covered in egg debris.

"Ricky, go rest up; tomorrow will be a long day," Father Sebastian said, giving Ricky a reassuring pat on the shoulder as he shrugged, walking away before waving with a cheeky smile at the slime covered Abraham.

"Seb it's-"

"Save it, the council is conveying and your presence is needed." Father Sebastian beckoned Abraham over, and he let out a sigh, knowing he was about to face another lecture.

"Fine, let's go."

30 minutes later,

"ORDER!" Pius announced loudly, attempting to regain control as the other members descended into a frenzy, each one conveying their own opinion with animated gestures and heated voices.

"I understand many have strong thoughts about Ricky, but we mustn't make hasty decisions," Pius spoke, trying to maintain order but the other members stood up, their voices rising in a chorus of dissent, clearly unwilling to wait for a more measured discussion.

"Your Holiness, that child has more holy power than even archbishops; he might as well be a saint!" A member urged, and while Pius didn't disagree, he considered the implications.

Although his own magical power far exceeded Ricky's nonexistent magic power, the density of Ricky's holy power, even without amplification, was comparable.

What made Ricky's situation so significant was his ability to call upon holy power without relying on magic, a feat that was unheard of and raised numerous concerns among the council.

Many priests circumvented the rigorous training required to gather holy power by amplifying it through magic, which was the foundation of holy spells.

In reality, all the priests had more holy power than Ricky, but that was only due to their magical abilities.

Without magic, however, Ricky possessed more holy power than a significant portion of them, making his unique ability to access it without any amplification particularly noteworthy.

"We must take him into the church, he needs to be properly trained-"

"That won't work." Abraham walked into the hall, Father Sebastian nodding by his side, both men exchanging glances as they took in the tense atmosphere.

"I do not wish to speak out of turn, but that rebellious child is very enthused with his freedom," Father Sebastian remarked, and several other members began to nod in agreement, having noticed the same thing.

"His family situation isn't too good, and he'll probably lash out at the church if you all try to force him into something," Abraham offered, trying to provide perspective as Bishop Thomas scoffed in response, clearly unconvinced and dismissive of Abraham's concerns.

"I really don't think we should listen to this drunken fool who has no belief in the one true God," Bishop Thomas frowned as Abraham let out an ironic laugh.

"News flash, dumbass: there is more than one God." Abraham's words struck a nerve, igniting frustration among the members, yet they couldn't outright deny his point.

"Abraham, how do you think the Vatican should proceed with Ricky's case?" Pius inquired, prompting Abraham to scratch his beard thoughtfully.

"I don't know, just give him a couple of overseas errands until he calms down a bit so you can teach him," Abraham suggested, voicing the first idea that came to mind.

The room fell silent as the members absorbed his words, considering the implications of sending Ricky away and what that might mean for his future within the church.

"If he becomes the Black Knight, his ties with the church would elevate," one member opined, and the others nodded in agreement.

However, one member remained skeptical, crossing his arms as he prepared to voice his dissent, sensing potential complications in aligning Ricky with such a powerful title.

"Ernst is-"

"A little sh*t."Abraham scoffed, casting a glare at Bishop Thomas, who sneered back, unperturbed.

"And Ricky is any better? If anything, he's worse," Bishop Thomas hissed, his disdain palpable as Abraham crossed his arms in scorn.

"He is not refined in the ways of our Lord and Savior; he's just a peasant, and he's a vulgar person." Bishop Thomas words resonated with the room, and members began to nod, contemplating the validity of his argument against Ricky's suitability for a position of power.

"Well, I'm sure that Ricky will beat the living sh*t out of your little Ernst tomorrow anyway, so this talk of ours doesn't really matter," Abraham mocked, a smirk playing on his lips as Bishop Thomas stood up, indignation flashing in his eyes.

"DO YOU WISH TO TAKE THIS OUTSIDE?" Bishop Thomas shouted, his face flushed with anger as Abraham, unfazed, spread his arms wide.

"BRING IT ON, VIRGIN!" Abraham retorted, a cheeky grin on his face as the other members scrambled to hold Bishop Thomas back.

*BAM*

"BISHOP, THAT IS NO WAY TO ACT!" Pius roared, and the room fell silent as if the very air had thickened with authority.

A wave of holy power emanated from him, pressing down on everyone present, momentarily crushing their spirits and silencing the murmurs of dissent.

"I-I apologize, your holiness." Bishop Thomas cowered back, his bravado evaporating under the intensity of Pius's gaze.

The Pope then turned to Abraham, who had already thrown in the towel, arms crossed and expression resigned.

*Sigh*

"The decision on Ricky will be pushed off until it is determined whether he will be the next Black Knight," Pius confirmed, his voice steady and authoritative as the members exchanged glances, nodding in agreement as they processed the weight of the choice ahead.

"Dismissed."

Slowly, all the priests filtered out of the meeting room, their discussions echoing in the hallways as they pondered Ricky's fate.

Abraham, Father Sebastian, and Pope Pius remained, the air heavy with unspoken tension as Pius gazed down at the two men, his expression a mixture of concern and resolve.

"You rang for me?" Abraham remarked awkwardly, sensing that the atmosphere was becoming too heavy for his liking.

"Abraham, I want you to be in charge of Ricky's induction into the Vatican-"

"No way." Abraham raised his arms in a gesture of dismissal, shedding off the responsibilities, but Pius frowned in response.

"And why me, I'm literally the worst advocate-"

"Because a war is coming." Pius informed Abraham, causing him to stop in his tracks.

"You mean with us humans-"

"No Abraham, not just us humans, but a war with the gods." Pius wore a grave expression, causing Abraham's breathing to momentarily halt.

"What are you saying-"

"A fragment of Nyx under the supervision of the Greek pantheon has disappeared." Pius warned him, and Abraham felt his heart start to race at the implication of what that could bring.

"But that has nothing to do with Christianity-"

"You know how wars between gods bleed into other pantheons," Pius said, leaning back as Abraham began to pace as Father Sebastion stood nearby, wearing a somber expression.

"How many fragments have been stolen?" Abraham suddenly asked, his voice tense, as if he needed to understand the implications of these fragments.

"Only one." Pius informed Abraham, who rubbed his scruffy gray beard in thought.

"The Nazi party is evidently starting to gather people of power to its side to aid in the takeover of Germany." Pius said, his gaze filled with concern as he had been asked to start a holy war multiple times but had consistently refused, leaving Abraham to process this unsettling information.

"They are gathering and interfering with powers they shouldn't." Pius said, closing his eyes as he braced for the coming bloodshed.

"But they are only a party-"

"The Nazi party is inflating rapidly, and it's only a matter of time before it consumes Germany whole and pries its fangs into its surroundings." Pius revealed, causing Abraham to come to a standstill, the gravity of the situation settling in.

"What does this have to do with Dracula?" Abraham asked, voicing the question that lingered in his mind as Pius looked down, his expression grave.

"So far, from our indications, it doesn't have-"

"Then I'm not doing it," Abraham declared, suddenly aware that the church was attempting to offload its burdens onto him.

"Abraham this is-"

"Not my problem! My only concern is making sure I don't spend eternity in purgatory!" Abraham yelled as he strode out of the room, leaving the two behind.

"Your Holiness, is the loss of one fragment really cause for concern?" Father Sebastion asked tentatively, prompting a deep sigh from Pius.

"Yes, it is," Pius replied, sinking into the chair at the table and gazing up at the ceiling as if searching for answers in the heavens.

"There are only three fragments left, and if they manage to come together, a wave of darkness will consume the earth," Pius warned, his voice heavy with foreboding as Father Sebastion bit his lip, the weight of the situation settling uncomfortably between them.

"But would Nyx-"

"No, her hatred is solely directed at the Greek pantheon. However, in war, others inevitably get drawn in. Once Nyx is revived, she will stop at nothing to kill every Greek god." Pius spoke, and Father Sebastian understood it was his cue to leave.

"Your Holiness," Father Sebastian bowed, then quietly exited, closing the door behind him.

After a moment, Pius rose and walked slowly to the center of the room and after kneeling, a soft, holy light descended upon him.

"What is it my child?" An ethereal voice hummed as Pius looked up to see a perfect creature standing before him with twelve wings behind it.

"I apologize for my sudden call but I wish to convey a message to the Council Of Thones."

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