Chapter 227
Chapter 227
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 227
Chapter Title: The Great Od Grad
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Ep. 227
He bore many names.
The being blessed by the stars, the sage graced with stellar wisdom, the mightiest male, and more besides.
Among them all, the moniker he cherished most was this:
The Great Od Grad.
No word captured his essence quite like "great."
There existed no lifeform in the world as extraordinary as he, born under the stars' blessing.
He could glimpse the future.
Sometimes in dreams, other times as visions.
Thanks to the precognitive gift innate from birth, he evaded every peril that came his way.
He wielded it boldly too, shielding his kin.
Even in his water-scaled youth, he hunted alongside them, steering them from harm. They hailed him as a wise fledgling and placed their faith in him.
Time flowed on, and he rose to become the herd's unchallenged leader. Countless kin revered him; beautiful, fierce females took him as mate.
Everything was flawless.
Until he encountered "that dwarf."
Before the stars' currents shifted dozens of times, intruders breached the nest and stole the eggs.
The thieves were dwarfs unlike any he'd known, arriving in a craft reeking of minerals.
Fury ignited; he lunged to assault their vessel. Had the future not cried warning, he surely would have.
That vision haunted him still.
The instant he struck, one dwarf of eerie aura stepped forth. It slaughtered him and every kin. The eggs? All carted off by the dwarfs.
He strove desperately to defy doom, yet the future held firm.
The odd dwarf aboard that craft was leagues beyond—an adversary invincible by any means.
Lesser kin might have charged regardless, but not Od Grad. His foresight had forged thoughts alien to his kind.
Terror of death, dread of an untamable fate—emotions utterly foreign—surged within him. The very power that exalted him now devoured him whole.
Consumed by fear, he chose submission. He groveled before the dwarf, pleading to serve if spared.
Startled by his meekness, perhaps? The dwarf—no, the Transcender—seemed pleased.
The Transcender spared him. Nay, bestowed a boon.
Secrets Od Grad never fathomed: celestial upheavals among the stars, the world's hidden truth.
From that first word, his known reality shattered.
Beloved mates, playful young kin, stalwart white-scaled comrades on the hunt...
All meaningless. Indistinguishable from the metal husks littering the beyond.
The Transcender decreed:
The precise meaning eluded him, but it mattered not. What counted was the Transcender's vow to preserve his life.
The pact sealed, he endured.
As token of alliance, the Transcender gifted a priceless relic.
Yet the youthful leader who once cherished kin was gone. In his stead lingered only the Great Od Grad.
Now, that Great Od Grad stirred from protracted slumber.
His clash with the sly "black kin" concluded messily. The foe's comrades struck the nest, forcing his hasty retreat.
Losing the turncoat stung, yet paled beside the true crisis: the vision of slaughter by the black kin remained unaltered.
Only then did the Transcender's admonition resurface.
The bestowed stele had forewarned: one capable of his demise would come.
Obey? He could not. Purging herd deserters demanded precedence.
His dreams offered no grim portents either. Complacency crept in.
Fitting, perhaps. Lifelong, he'd curated futures bending to his sight.
Once more, he trusted his gift. Had it not spared him confrontation with the Transcender? Surely it would guide true again.
Weeks of dream-wandering yielded the key to reshaping fate.
His mates ventured timid dissent, but the Great Od Grad turned deaf ears.
In dreams, he had witnessed:
Himself atop a peak of singular contour. At his talons, the black kin lay mangled. With razor claws, he rent its throat and drank deep its blood.
The Great Od Grad claimed triumph anew.
Having soared far from the nest, I alighted upon one summit amid the vast range.
A nest of splintered timber laced with glittering gem shards lay in view—the twin peaks I'd raided for the Crystalwing not long ago.
I sprawled across the forsaken cradle.
By now, he's surely seen it.
My desertion from the herd must ripple through his visions. Unknowing when such chance recurs, he'll rush to end me.
Twin-peaked rises are scarce hereabouts. Rarer still, one bearing this Crystalwing nest where I lounged.
If he spied me dreaming, tracking me's no trial.
Time remained before their arrival.
I unpacked my satchel, drawing forth its arsenal.
Blood River, Demolisher, Harmonizer...
Trophies plucked from foes past. Beyond these, more loot-bags moldered in the nest.
The priest's golden spear absented this haul. I'd stowed it there originally—then fished it out, pitched into the pit deliberate.
Heaven's Mother will grasp the intent.
I trusted her ilk would divine my gambit swiftly. Insurance, lest they falter.
She knew the spear's lethal worth intimately. Spotting it cached in the abyss, my design crystallizes.
Won't gorge the instant I depart. Dawn tomorrow, perhaps, brings discovery.
First venture this riddled with unknowns. Yet to blind Od Grad, no better stratagem.
I replayed our duel.
His peril-sense surely flared twice gravely: God's Whip unleashed, and 'Abyss Hues' invoked.
Cruiser's demise... less certain.
No fatal mark on him suggested he'd peered ahead, dodged prescient.
Plainly: assaults foreseen and shunned bore lethal promise—all could doom in one stroke.
Augmented Terror Gaze diverges slightly—yet death's tether binds it same.
'Terror Gaze' laced with Abyss Hues forces ceaseless nightmare torment on the struck. Combat? Flight? Impossible. Death inexorable.
Other strikes drew no such wariness.
Black Galleron's hide endures, but flesh yields. Sustained psychic breath, sundry barrages birth wounds. He'd bled from the cruiser's main battery, proof.
No foreknowledge then.
Cult cruiser guns can maim a Black Galleron. Instant death? Nay.
Ergo, his sense triggers narrowly: singular blows to slay or near-fatally maim. God's Whip, Abyss Hues—both qualify.
Psionic reflection plating? Enigma lingers.
I surveyed my arrayed gear.
His gift ill-mates God's Whip.
Mighty as it blazed, its raw devastation betrayed me now—snared by precog.
Tactics shift.
Months prior, slaying cyborg player Muriel yielded this: 'Raider's Amorphous Polyhedron.' It feasted on the Cult's orbital 'Thunder God,' birthing God's Whip—channeling its fury.
Here, a fresh repast beckoned.
Viable prey among my trove: three.
Blood River, Harmonizer from Muriel; Demolisher from shrine guardians and cruiser.
Demolisher.
I hefted the rifle-resembling rectangular pod.
Traits echo the devoured: plasma launcher births plasma lance; Thunder God, thunder god's wrath. Demolisher? Matter-rending beam.
Won't serve.
Its projectiles unmake any substance, however adamant. Akin Abyss-boosted psychic breath—precog bait.
Harmonizer next.
Cruciform halo-crest, spoils from Muriel's end.
Jason once bore one; his warp whisked it beyond grasp.
Harmonizer's boon solid.
Cult quest apex reward—tier nine cleared.
Donned, it warps wearer from fatal brink to safety nigh. Particle dissolution en route heals all wounds post-jaunt—a dread resilience.
Five charges. Five lives, in sum.
Warp tempts, yet here? Useless.
I craved strikes middling harm, skirting his trigger. Self-shields appeal, but ill-timed.
Blood River remains.
I eyed the finger-joint spider drone.
Petite, almost endearing—yet peril incarnate.
Star Union's sole-grade war engine, mind.
Peer to Thunder God in class, cost near-identical.
Ingame staple: PvP, rare beast snare, raid boss debuff.
Activated, it latches, leeches vitality. Pace ferocious—even titans falter swiftly.
Dodge via sense? Futile. Alloys, pigments cloak it from scans. My auxiliary organ reads null.
Near-death courtesy of this, sparring Muriel.
Prepped 'Gremlin Moss' dulled its cunning, nullifying.
Suited perfectly: accrues hurt gradual, no instant kill.
Appraising the lineup, I tilted skyward. Thunderheads choked vision, time vague—but night, assuredly.
Ample hours; deliberate choice.
Beyond the triad, sundry tools nested in the pack.
One by one, I assayed them, pondering ploys.
What to wield? Decided. This ritual soothed gnawing doubt.
A future-reader foe—can I prevail?
Should he pivot quarry?
Strike Adha, others first? Return to nest strewn with comrades' husks. 026, fatally gored, damns my flight. Abandoned us... survived alone...
Enough.
I slammed skull to stone.
Cold snow? Malign fancies fled; clarity surged.
I do not yield.
Hitherto, plans rarely unfolded pristine. Variables unseen erupted; crises unforeseen assailed.
Yet I endured. No trial broke me. No titan quelled.
Od Grad fares no different.
He descends here. I claim his genetic quintessence, unspared.
Thus resolved, I bided.
Hours wheeled; clouds shifted. Thunderheads densened; gale, flurry, bolts conspired.
Weather hellish beyond words raged on.
Auxiliary organ pinged.
Myriad massive forms hurtled hither, swift.
Here at last.
From satchel, gear to maw. Raider's Amorphous whirred; vitals reshaped.
God's Whip, longtime ally, departed—I gazed aloft.
Blizzard veil parted: black wings loomed.
The vigil ended.
Hunt's hour dawned.