Too Stubborn to Die

Book 5: Chapter 36

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Before Aaron reached the coast, he received messages from his comrades. As things turned out, Soohyun, Talia, and Joseph had been run ragged chasing the shoreline up and down in a desperate attempt to keep Ikran away.

However, despite their rather fast and elusive foe, they had prevented all but a handful of obelisks from being destroyed during Aaron’s training phase.

Still, even once he had returned, they had a problem to solve. Ikran was not easy to corner. The undead thal’kesh had clearly been rattled by his confrontation with Aaron. And unlike the first time he had caught him destroying an obelisk, Ikran wasn’t waiting around anymore.

They had spotted the disappearing obelisks a few times. Sometimes even when they were right nearby. But Ikran was in and out quickly, firing at the obelisk and immediately retreating, sometimes even resulting in the obelisk withstanding the attack.

This was obviously going to make Aaron's task much harder. Even if he were confident in chasing the thal’kesh down, it was a bit of a stretch to expect that he could reach the obelisk in time as well.

But there wasn’t much choice. He just hoped that if they fanned out enough across the coastline, they would be able to spot Ikran with enough time that he could reach the obelisk before he took flight.

Joseph took to the water, patrolling around as the others took positions along the coast. Everyone was equipped with relay stones, and the moment anyone had any information regarding Ikran, they were to report it.

But the plan was off to a rocky start as days went by with no sign of anything.

Aaron wasn’t sure if it was a coincidence, or if Ikran sensed that he had returned and was taking even more cautious measures.

Even as a couple of days on lookout passed, they decided to stick with the plan. Their setup along the coast was only getting stronger. Word had been spread to the remaining previously uncontacted settlements, and they were all working with the United Front.

And further back inland, squads from Dober were roaming about. They had to be careful, since without top rankers amongst their ranks, they were susceptible to slaughter if they came across Ikran. But with any luck, as long as they remained in the rear, they wouldn’t be in too much danger.

In fact, there were very few settlements that hadn’t either straight up joined the United Front, or were in some form of alliance when contacted. As Julius had suspected, there was a snowballing effect, and the bigger they became, the easier it was to convince others to join.

And so, in a short time, they had developed a multilayered system of warnings across the coastal regions, providing them with a lot of insight into what was happening across it.

Ikran might have been taking his time, now that Aaron had returned. But if they were going to catch him anywhere, it was here.

While guarding some, they left other obelisks with traps. And after another couple of days, their patience finally paid off. Ikran screwed up, majorly. The thal’kesh attempted to assault an obelisk not far from the shore, thinking he was safe under the cover of night. Unfortunately for him, Talia was holding watch over the area.

Aaron wasn’t the only one who was growing. Her powers had expanded too, and she had an impressive shadowy Skill. She was able to expand the shadowy veil over a few kilometers, and it provided her with a near-omniscient view over everything her shadows touched.

This was a particularly devious problem in the darkness of night. Ikran had thought the shade his ally, but in truth, it was anything but. The night hid Talia’s Skill, and the unwitting thal’kesh wandered straight into it.

Talia wasted no time. The moment she spotted the witless thal’kesh, she relayed the message to Aaron.

He had to thank his training with Yendal once more. Being forced to hold back and restrain himself while emitting immense power had helped him improve at hiding his energy. With care, he raced toward the correct obelisk, shrouding himself and hiding nearby before Ikran reached it. Hiding his aura was like sucking in his gut, and he truly hoped Ikran wouldn’t leave him waiting too long.

Ikran

Ikran waded through the night. It seemed unusually thick, so dark that it even obscured his highly perceptive eyes. But he had a job to do. Darius was getting impatient. The obelisks needed to be destroyed so that he could enact the final stages of his plan.

But it wasn’t the little whining necromancer that he was worried about. The soul that now inhabited Ikran’s body had long pledged itself to the Death God, and he hadn’t waited this long to be granted a new chance at life just to disappoint.

Stepping through the darkness, he spotted his goal. The obelisk. Finally, he could get done with this and return to the safety of the ocean.

Ikran raised a hand, and impossibly dark ink swirled around it, forming a trident, but before he could throw it, he felt something.

“What?”

At first, it could have been any burst of energy. But then he sensed that familiar and terrifying aether. Without hesitation, he threw the trident and teleported out of range to a splotch of ink.

It all happened so quickly. A dizzying array of action. One moment he was alone, and the next a man had appeared in a blur, smacking away the trident that blasted through the sound barrier itself, and was upon him.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Ikran was not easily taken off guard. He had hundreds of years of experience, and had been granted a surprisingly worthwhile body to inhabit. But this speed was something else entirely. And he wanted nothing to do with it.

The moment he reached the ink, he had already activated his Skill again, teleporting to the next patch of ink, and then to the next.

But the pulse of a heart racing surge of aether from within him, came as a blaring warning sign.

He had but a fraction of a second to dodge backward as a soul-reaping strike flew out at him. He had only just barely avoided it, and he could sense its deadly power, activating his Skill once more and teleporting to the next ink.

But it was there!

Ikran’s eyes widened as the fist flew for his head, only just managing to raise a wall of ink at the last second, which was immediately blasted away by the fist.

What in the multiverse was going on? This speed and accuracy were simply incomprehensible. Ikran was essentially teleporting, and while there was a tiny fraction of delay, the idea that someone could not just keep up, but seemingly outpace him was impossible.

And he knew just who it was.

The Death God had warned him of this very person when he had fished his soul from the well and handed it to Darius for his use. But even he hadn’t expected this.

How was some infant capable of such things? Some pathetic D-grade who had barely wiggled out of the womb, and who couldn’t come close to comprehending the truths of the multiverse.

But here he was, against all logic. And he was fast.

It wasn’t just speed, and speed certainly wasn’t what terrified him. He could feel it. The aether bubbling up within the soul-touched strikes of the infant warrior.

Desperate, Ikran teleported again, but he was too slow. The fist was already flying at him, and it struck true. He could feel its power ripping at the spectral tethers that held him to this plane of existence. And if not for his own devastating willpower, the willpower of a soul who had spent hundreds of years adrift in the well with a single sentient thought, one that screamed for a second chance at life, he wouldn’t have been able to resist.

But even as he did resist, just barely clinging to his husk of a body, he knew he couldn’t do it twice; the cost had been too dear.

Again, he teleported, cycling mana and aether at ever-increasing speed, drawing power from his very soul in a desperate attempt to escape.

Walls of ink were raised around him as he flashed across the land, moving increasingly fast as he reached the ocean and plunged within.

He gasped. Even that wasn’t enough. Even risking tearing his very soul apart wasn’t enough. The infant man was there, swinging a punch at him, which he only barely avoided, thanks to the last remnants of his dwindling power pulled up and brought to his defense.

How was this even possible?

This was not the aura of some newbie he had just been integrated into the multiverse. Had the Death God been wrong? Could his divine almighty be wrong?

He barely had a sliver of a second to think between teleportations, and between the next, his soul and body were partially severed, leaving behind half of it, like a skink in flight.

But it made little difference. The man quickly caught up as he teleported away. Not even the depths of the ocean were enough to save him now.

The action moved so quickly that he didn't even get enough time to think. A second was all it would take, and he would be ended. So he had no choice, skipping between ink splotches, raising defences, but the last of his mana and aether pooled into his defenses, and he was naked before the man’s deadly assault.

It was all so hopeless. He had never stood a chance. It had felt like he was barely placing one foot after the next as he tumbled, skipping along and saving himself from falling by inches, and he had finally lost his footing.

Aaron had been fast before, but back then, he had been manageable. What in the endless expanse of the multiverse could have made such a significant change so quickly? The thought of it was obscene.

Ikran felt like raging against reality. It was all so unfair. His soul had been adrift for hundreds of years after a deal made with the Death God. A deal that had seen him betray everyone he had ever known and loved.

But that was the nature of the multiverse. He had reached a bottleneck, stuck and unable to progress any further. Until a god had reached out and offered him an opportunity.

He had laid in wait so long, and now, finally, his patience had paid off, and one of the Death God’s minions had taken his soul and sewed him to a new body. And what’s more, the body had potential.

It all seemed so ludicrous. Despite all of his experience, he was about to have his second chance at life cut short by some infant who had barely just reached D-grade.

What absolute garbage! He was the reincarnator. He was the skilled warrior who had lived hundreds of years and reached the peak of C-grade before aging away at a bottleneck he couldn’t pass.

And yet, he didn’t know how to counter this absolute madman as he chased him down. No matter what he did, he was also somehow a step ahead of him, despite the body he had been given possessing an impressive travel Skill of its own.

And then he saw it. A blinding light of terrifying aether as the man’s fist slammed into him, severing his connection to his inherited body.

His surroundings dimmed around him, and he saw the deathly tentacles of aether reaching out to grab at his soul, and he gasped.

This had been his chance to cheat death and get a second chance. But now… he could feel it. The aether was furious at his deception. He had denied the multiverse its cycle of life, and he was about to be punished dearly for it.

Aaron

An absolutely gut-curdling scream sounded from Ikran as he reaped the thal’kesh’s soul. But it hadn’t come from its lips, but from its very soul, and even Aaron was forced to take a step back as he felt a shiver trace his spine.

“What the fuck was that?”

He felt a little uneasy, but the corpse was very much dead.

“Okay, that was odd.”

Darius

Undead Follower: Ikran

Has been destroyed

Darius read the notification impassively and dismissed it with a thought. Ikran had actually lasted longer than Darius expected. The soul that inhabited his body was a cautious one, which worked out well. He had never been expected to actually take out enough obelisks for Darius to take over the world. It was helpful if he did, but in the end, the thal’kesh was mainly a distraction.

And what a wonderful distraction he was.

A smile grew on Darius face, and he fingered the divine shard embedded in his chest as his palanquin crested the ridge and the ugly trailer park of a settlement came into view. It had been garrisoned well, but it would make no difference. It was far too late.

I am inevitable.

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