Chapter 26: Fruits

“Techniques are patterns that the aura is channeled through to provide different effects. For the Path of the Undying Necromancer, the pattern is the language of the dead and the foundation of the grave.”

Riven looked up from the book towards Kivara. “I thought… techniques just happen?”

She shrugged. “Different strokes for different paths. Some chant, some visualize, some just use their imagination, and some just use their intent. Rituals, singing, writing, and dancing—there are different ways to perform a technique. It’s all unique in their own way.”

Riven nodded silently. He glanced back at the book, at the so-called foundation of the grave, and he was met with symbols that looked suspiciously like Sigils.

He carefully read through the technique book, sitting down when he realized it was going to take time. He read everything until he was satisfied, and then he sighed. “I think I get it. I need to visualize the foundation of the grave while I say the language of the dead, at the same time imposing my will and intent on it.”

Kivara yawned. “Good for you. Can we go now? I want to get out of this catacomb. I’m hungry, and I stink.”

Riven sniffed the air, but the smell of the rottling was too much to smell anything else. Kivara gave him a glare, and he stood up with a small smile that was soon wiped away as he remembered that the sword was now in his hand. There was nowhere to place it.

‘…Ysmera… I will give their blood to you…’

With that determination in mind, he pointed his finger down at the monster below him. His eyes glowed a brighter purple, his aura leaking out in cold green and purple. Riven opened his mouth and used his Burst technique as he declared, “Heed me!”

That was what came out of his mouth, but it was twisted and warped, overlapping with a language spoken only by the departed. His aura flared and surged downward, covering the monster’s body—a fire with no heat.

Kivara leaped away from the rottling, but Riven stood there, his jaw clenched tight, his forehead beaded with sweat. The shape he had in his mind wobbled as the dead monster resisted him.

He pressed his intent and will sharply on the foundation of the grave he had in his mind, and the rottling shuddered. One of its hands raised and pressed to the ground as if trying to lift itself, but then, with a snap, the foundation broke, and Riven staggered.

He gripped his head tight as a blinding headache made his eyes water. “By the Eternal’s shit, that was hard.”

“Or maybe you just learned your lesson. You know you can’t raise that thing, don’t you? It’s far above your rank, and still! But you still managed to move it.” Kivara smiled. “Maybe you’ll live longer than I predicted.”

Riven groaned as he jumped down from atop the monster. It felt as if someone was running in his head. His ragged robe slipped, and he turned away from her to retie it.

Meanwhile, Kivara was giving his turned back a strange look. The smile was gone from her face, and her eyes had gained a cold, calculating luster as she thought to herself, ‘…This brat… You are using techniques just moments after you advanced… Hehe… Even I didn’t do that… I can’t wait to take you back to Master… Maybe finally, I will…’

Riven turned back, the book still hovering beside him. “Now, what are we going to do?”

Kivara pointed to the skull on the altar. At some point, a portal had materialized and now hung there—a green, rippling portal. “We’ll be going into that, I guess. I hope we see an opponent closer to our rank. I need something to bash.”

Riven agreed with her, his mind wandering to Vaelith, and he wondered how long he would last against the necromancer. ‘…If I had this before, then she wouldn’t have died…’

His gut tightened, and he tried to push it away as he followed her to the portal. “Maybe we’ll also find something to eat on the other side.”

“Only one way to find out.”

She stepped into the portal, and Riven followed behind immediately. The place they found themselves in was an open field filled with rolling grasses and small trees. The sun was the actual sun here, and it was a warm combination with the green smell surrounding them.

“Well, this is better than what I was picturing,” Kivara said.

All around them, except for the northern direction, all they could see, as far as their eyes could reach, was green grass and small plants.

But the northern side was filled with a forest that seemed to be even bigger than the Shadowwood.

“I have a feeling your imagination lies in there,” Riven said, and he pointed to the forest. His Book of Path was still hovering around him, and he reached out to touch it.

Immediately, he touched it, and the book turned into a green light and shot into his right hand, turning into a tattoo of a raven and snake locked in a fight.

Riven wasn’t surprised by the development. He was bonded with it, after all.

Kivara snorted. “Sure. But I’m not going in there unless I have the inner strength to eat. We need food, and I think whatever’s making the rules in this catacomb knows that as well! Riven, you try it!”

The small trees and plants that surrounded them had fruits of different colors and shapes.

Riven frowned. “That’s not suspicious at all. Fruits in the open—what could possibly go wrong?”

“Path book and monster combination to go along with it—what could possibly go wrong?” Kivara said.

Riven paused. There were enough coincidences going on to worry about fruits anyway. He shrugged. “Fair.”

He searched for the fruit that looked the closest to one he was familiar with and found one that was similar to grapes, just bigger. He plucked several and began to eat.

It was crunchy, and the sweetness made Riven groan. He took more and stuffed his mouth. All the while, Kivara watched him.

“What?” he finally asked when he got the space in his mouth to speak.

Kivara shook her head. “I’m just thinking how long it’s going to take you to die.”

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