Aetherios System: Whirlwind

Book 3: Chapter 82: Royal Aftermath

Chapter 82: Royal Aftermath

Alex felt the price of his final strike the moment the arms dissolved. The sting of the impossible backlash tearing through every nerve of his being. The large demonic arms faded and the Demon Asura’s power ripped free of him, leaving only ruin in its wake. His chest seized up. The last of his strength guttered out like a candle snuffed by the hand of a god.

His body folded and collapsed in on itself, his blood pouring from the mangled wreck of his arm. He hit the ground hard.

“Allie!” Holly shouted.

“I’ve got him. Cole, hold him still!” Allie’s hands were already glowing as her magic surged into his torn flesh. Cole pressed his hands against Alex’s shoulder, pinning him as Alex thrashed weakly, his body spasming under the backlash.

“His vitals are crashing!” Allie said, sweat slick on her brow. “I need you still—stay still damn you!”

But Alex couldn't hear her; his movements weren't his own. They were the throes of a magically enhanced body dying under the stress he had subjected it to. Each twitch and shudder performed by every muscles in his body clenching and spasming over and over again.

He was vaguely aware as another presence pressed close to them, Myrae. Her own movements by comparison to everyone elses, were graceful and efficient as she started to assist. Her moved her palm and hovered it over Alex’s chest. Inscriptions of blue healing light wove into being, wrapping around him. “I’ll stabilize the blood flow and his heart. Keep him alive, Allie.”

The half-elf's magic brought his heart under control, and began trying to guide his blood. It was a tricky attempt, as his wyrm-blood kept attacking and eating the aether she injected into him. But it was enough to calm his body to the point his consciousness swam in and out of reality.

In Alex’s mind heard their voices of the others as blurry versions of themselves, the sounds muffled by the pounding in his ears. His vision pulsed, with blackness swallowing the edges. He thought he heard someone else too, perhaps Garret, maybe Lance, cursing under their breath. The others just stood in silence around them in a grim and hollow quiet. Their faces turned toward him as though watching a court verdict being given.

He tried to form words, but they tangled uselessly on his tongue.

Then everything went dark.

***

He woke to the rasp of fabric against his skin. His body felt like it had been shredded and stitched back together with fiery wires. He found that bandages wrapped him from throat to ankle, and were tied tight enough he could barely draw a breath without wincing. His arm was swathed in thicker layers of material, so stiff he couldn’t tell if it was even there beneath the wrappings.

Warmth infused his fingers at his other hand drew his gaze. Holly sat beside him, her fingers laced gently through his. Her head was bowed, and her eyes heavy with fatigue from sitting be his side for gods knew how long now. Even then, she was still awake.

“...Holly?” His voice was a cracked, bare whisper.

Her head snapped up and he saw relief flash across her face. “You’re awake," she sighed.

He blinked his eyes blearily and tried to move, only to instantly regret it. Pain lanced through every inch of him, the agony stark enough to blind him for a few seconds. He gritted his teeth and managed a stuttering breath. “The others…?”

“They’re fine,” Holly said quickly. He felt as she squeezed his hand to reassure him. “Already out there, cleaning up the battlefield. The chimera are being burned. Every last one of them. Scouting teams are sweeping the forest and mountain tunnels, just to be sure.” Her words sounded calm, but her eyes betrayed the weight still clinging to her shoulders.

“Rynel. Sarson… Eric?”

Holly’s shoulders sagged. For a moment she didn’t answer, then she simply nodded. “They’re gone. We burned their bodies already.”

She reached into her cloak and withdrew a small scrap of parchment with slightly blood smudged edges. Alex’s name was written on the front in a firm hand. She set it gently on his chest. “He left you a letter.”

Alex;s throat tightened up as her starred down at it. His hand trembled when he picked it up off the bed but he forced it to obey. He reached for the paper only to suddenly stop halfway.

Not yet, he didn’t think he could manage it yet. He willed the parchment into his storage bracelet instead, the weight of it sinking deeper than any ship anchor, water or magical air-surfing variety.

“How long?” he asked, forcing the question past dry lips.

“Two days.”

His eyes widened, but Holly continued before he could speak. “Malric and Karsali say the Empire’s reinforcements will arrive any hour now. We’d run if we could… but we can’t outrun them forever. And... There’s talk about rewards. A hidden quest of some kind. Some of the others… they think we might’ve already completed it.”

Alex closed his eyes, letting the news settle in. The battlefield still smelled of smoke and blood in his memory, the Queen’s last whisper in his mind. Monster. Don’t forget your promise.

He blinked a few times, forcing his vision to clear. Instead if letting the memories of the battle assault him, he focused his mind elsewhere. The faint shimmer of notifications hovered in his sight, one after the other.

You Have Slain Primal Chimera Queen!

+5,560 Experience

It was the most experience points he’d gotten for a single kill so far. Compared to the accumilated total he’d earned slaughtering the chimera soldiers in the dungeon, it wasn’t much. But, it was the confirmation that the Queen was dead, for good, that was most rewarding.

The next notification unfurled in a ripple of light.

Martial Progression Achieved!

You have invoked [Descending Demon Fist] with Dual Manifested Arms.

Hidden Criterion Met!

New Active Skill: [Asura’s Armaments] – Allows the user to form aether constructs from the aura of the Demon Asura Style. Stability and control improved at higher strain threshholds.

Alex frowned. “...What the hell?”

Martial Art progression quests were not new to Alex, he had received and completed them before. Each one gave him a task to perform related to his martial art, and completion upgraded the Demon Asura style to the next Tier. This one seemed to be more like a Hidden Quest. It didn’t show until he had completed it, and didn’t give him a typical reward. Instead of upgrading his martial art, it unlocked a new skill.

He would have to look into that more later.

The final screen stole his attention immediately. It was larger than the rest, its border pulsing a deep royal gold.

Hidden Event Quest: Dungeon Breach – Complete!

A System Dungeon has breached, releasing a Primal Chimera Hive on the world. Hunt down the hive and kill them before it is too late. It’s the least you can do, since you are kind of the reason they got out. You know what you did… douche.

Threat Neutralized. Hive Queens eliminated and breach contained.

Rewards are calculated based on contribution.

Reward (Alex Pierce):

+ 25,000 Experience

+ DungeonEntry Token: [Hall of the Unyielding Star]

Note: Access may only be claimed once. Location undisclosed until triggered.

“The Hall of the… Unyielding Star?” Alex muttered under his breath. Confusion stirred in his head. Another dungeon? A trial? Or something worse? He had no clue. And right now, he didn’t care. The screens flickered out at a gesture, and with a groan he adjusted his body against the cot. His muscles screamed in protest, his bandaged ribs grinding with every shallow breath he made.

“Alex, stop. You can’t even stand,” Holly said as she tried to press him back down.

He ignored her. Slowly and painfully, he swung his legs off the cot. The floor tilted under him, but he forced himself upright, leaning heavily on the tent pole. His body felt drained, his aether channels still strained from enduring far more than they were ever meant to.

“I need to see,” he rasped.

“See what

?” Holly demanded, her grip on his arm tightening.“That they’re gone,” Alex said. “Every one of them. They all have to be burned. I made a promise…” His throat tightened as the Queen’s final whisper clawed at the back of his mind once more. ‘Monster. Don’t forget your promise to me.’

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Holly’s brow furrowed. For a moment, she looked like she might argue, but she saw something in his gaze that silenced her.

Alex limped forward, pulling free of her hold, his steps were uneven and stilted, like each leg was carved from stone. He shoved the tent flap aside, and the sunlight cut against the back of his eyes like knives.

Outside, the camp was a grim blur of motion. He saw soldiers dragging chimera corpses into heaps, the flames licking up into the smoke-thick sky. Blackish purple blood boiled away under the fires, the stench of burning chitin nearly suffocating him. Scouting parties moved out in pairs with their weapons drawn, checking the outer fields and forest lines.

Everywhere he looked, exhaustion hung about the survivors like a shroud.

And Alex, who was barely upright and stitched together by bandages and stubborn will—kept walking, one step at a time, toward the pyres.

He moved among the tents slowly, his limp more pronounced now, every step tugging at raw wounds beneath his bandages. His hand dragged along the haft of a broken spear someone had jammed into the dirt, a makeshift marker for the bodies piled at its base.

The first pyre he passed still hissed with fresh flame, the chimera carcasses stacked high, and their grotesque forms curling and blackening as the flames ate at them. The stench was acrid and nauseating, but Alex endured it. His eyes barely moved from the fire.

This was the price that was paid.

His mind replayed the fight in snippets and flashes—the scythe of the Shadow Queen snapping down toward Sarson, Henry bleeding through his teeth as he cut her down for good. The Wind Queen taking the best archer he had ever seen, Rynel, with just a single stroke of her arm. He saw Symon screaming as earth spikes pinned him like a crucifix. And Eric… Alex’s chest tightened.

Eric’s face came to him clearest of all, not how he had looked in those last agonized moments of his life, but as he remember the man from earth. His jovial grin, his strong commanding voice, the firebrand confidence he always carried when he told them all they’d make it through. That was gone now.

The System didn’t weep for their losses. The Trial countdown didn’t pause to let them a moment to process. Loss was only another tally, another checkmark on its large score board. Move forward or die where you stand. That was the rule. That had always been the rule.

Alex’s jaw clenched as he moved on, past more chimera heaps, each fire biting at the smoke-choked sky. These monsters hadn’t chosen this fight any more than he had, not really. They were shaped and bent, bound to the will of something greater than themselves. And that “something” lay ahead of him on its own pyre.

He found it at the far edge of the field. The flames here were smaller but far hotter, bright tongues chewing through blackened chitin. The Original Queen’s corpse was large even in death, her carapace split wide from his strike, wings collapsed and curling in the blaze. He stopped and simply… stared.

Hatred still bubbled in his chest when he looked at her, the feeling hot and primal. She had nearly killed them all, had killed so many already. Her brood had spilled out like a flood of claws, and talons, and poison. He should spit on her ashes, curse her memory, and vow to erase every trace of her kind.

But he didn’t. Because he understood her.

She had fought for her children, for her hive, just as he had fought for his squad and his friends. She had remade herself piece by piece, grafted power onto herself until she was no longer what she had once been. In that, they were the same, two monsters standing on opposite sides of survival.

That was why he stood vigil now, and why he made sure the last of her existence burned in fire, not carved apart for reagents or loot. A clean and thorough death, a finality. With no lasting fragments of her legacy stolen for scraps by soldiers.

I promised you, he thought bitterly. And I’ll keep it. Even if it doesn’t matter anymore.

Time passed. He didn’t know by how much, minutes, maybe hours. He simply watched as the Queen’s body sagged in on itself, breaking apart until all that remained was blackened chitin collapsing into ember.

Finally, the fire guttered down. Coals glowed faintly red in the shallow pit, ash stirring in the breeze. Alex took a breath, forcing his battered body to kneel. Something caught his eye as it glimmered in the ashes.

Frowning, Alex leaned closer, ignoring the heat that licked against his skin. Then, without hesitation, he reached into the smoldering remains, the flesh of his palm searing as he pushed through char and ember. His fingers brushed something solid and smooth, and he pulled it free.

A crystal—no, a core. Small enough to fit in his palm, but heavy and impossibly dense. Its surface shimmered with shifting colors of purple and blue energies swirling in deep currents, all threaded through with a single, delicate strand of gold, like a vein running to its center.

Alex stared at it. His heartbeat slowed, but the thump of its beats grew louder in his ears. The item didn’t look like a typical arcane beast core. He didn’t know what it was, only that it was hers. The System didn’t flash a notification when he looked at it. There was no quest completion or achievement. He was rewarded with only silence.

With a grim expression, Alex slipped the core into his storage bracelet. His skin still smoked faintly where he had grasped it, but he didn’t care. He pushed himself upright again, gaze fixed on the last wisps of smoke rising into the sky.

His body ached with every step back toward the makeshift camp, the smoke of the pyres still clinging to his hair and clothes. Holly trailed close to him, helping him when his knees randomly betrayed him and buckled, though he stubbornly refused to let her bear all his weight.

The others were gathered in the center of camp. Two squads of mismatched, bloodied, and burned fighters. Ghrukk loomed beside his own battered team of warriors, one tusk dulled and broken, and hair matted with dried blood. Karsali stood tall next to him, though her armor was still cracked, one of her shoulders still strapped tight against her torso with blood-soaked bandages. Malric had removed all of his armor and changed into new robes, though they were the same style of the Urhara Mystic Arcanuum.

All eyes turned as Alex approached. The ongoing conversations dulled, leaving only the crackle of distant fires.

“We can’t run anymore,” Alex said without preamble. He was hoarse from the smoke and strain of his injuries, but he powered through it anyway. He stopped in front of them all, swaying slightly. “I couldn’t jog right now if I wanted to. None of us could. So, running isn’t an option.”

There was no argument about what he said. A somber heaviness passed through the other Worldstriders, a silent agreement. Even the thought of fleeing again felt impossible. They were all stretched so thin, beaten down to the edge.

His gaze moved to Karsali, who nodded at him.

“Aburi? Symon? Kletos?” he asked.

“They’re still here,” She answered, her tone quieter than usual. “Alive. Like us, they earned their rewards. The System… saw fit to give them quite the boon as well.”

Malric shifted forward then, adjusting the spectacles perched low on his nose. “That token of yours… you understand what it means, yes?”

Alex frowned. “Not really. All it says is ‘Entry Token: Hall of the Unyielding Star.’ Whatever that means. I was going to ask—”

“Then listen,” Malric interrupted, his tone sounding quite urgent. “Your injuries not withstanding, this is another reason you can’t keep pretending you can outpace the Empire. Things have changed. You’ll need them now. Whether you like it or not.”

His brow furrowed. “Why? What does a token have to do with it?”

Myrae stepped in, “There are different kinds of dungeons, Alex. Most are Trials like what we’ve already faced. Others are conversion rifts, rare places where the System’s rules… slip and bend in strange ways. Those are the most dangerous. Then there are Inheritance Halls. The highest order of dungeons. They are unique places with their own laws, and their own opportunities. Tokens grant access to them, and every Empire, every Kingdom, every Syndicate wants them.”

Her hand hovered near Alex’s arm, as though to emphasize her point. “These tokens don’t just represent power. They can be leveraged if used correctly, as protection or bargaining chips among the highest levels of power. And they can bring untold war, if you aren’t careful.”

But before she could continue, Karsali lifted her hand. The golden fire that still faintly clung to her skin made the gesture’s meaning clear. “Enough,” her tone brooked no argument. “Not tonight. Not right now.”

Myrae bit her lip but nodded before stepping back.

“Details can wait,” Karsali said firmly, meeting Alex’s eyes. “We’ve bled, we’ve burned, we’ve buried our dead. The Empire will arrive soon. For now, we take what strength we can find and hold it close. Later, we’ll decide how to spend it.”

Alex exhaled slowly, his bandaged chest aching with the motion. The token weighed heavily in his bracelet, the Queen’s core heavier still. He would need answers to his many questions, but it looked like everyone was too tired to continue right then.

He nodded once. “Fine. Later.”

The group fell silent again, everyone avoiding each other’s eyes, each of them carrying too much to share just yet. Only the sound of the smoldering pyres filled the air between them, crackling like the rustling paper in the closing of a chapter.

***

The camp settled into an uneasy lull. The worst of the screams had passed, either silenced by eventual death or dulled by healers and potions. For the first time since entering the mountain, the Worldstriders weren’t fighting or looking for a new fight to jump into. A thankful respite.

Small groups drifted apart to find what fragments of privacy they could. Cole sat by the embers of one pyre, Selka easing down beside him. Neither looked at each other; both stared into the dying flames.

“Rynel should’ve been here. He would’ve laughed in the Queen’s face. Would’ve… made some stupid joke about her hair.” Selka said.

Cole’s lips tightened, yet his gaze didn’t waver from the fire. “And Sarson would’ve followed it with some exaggerated story about how his village survived a flood, or an avalanche, all thank to him and a single wooden spoon. His stories were ridiculous. But, he was always trying to remind us that there’s a way through anything.”

Selka’s breath shook, “And both of them are ash now.”

Cole reached out a hand to hers, “Then, it's up to us now, we will carry them with us.”

Not far off, Garret hunched on a fallen log, his shoulders pulled taut and back bent, Eric’s stark absence carved into the shape of him. His shield lay at his feet next to his sword, basically discarded. “He was… always the one who knew what to say,” Garret murmured, the words tumbling out to no one and everyone at once. “Even when he was wrong, he sounded so right. I didn’t even like him at first. I thought he was too perfect, too… proud, with blue running through his veins. And now…” His throat hitched, and he buried his face in his hands.

No one interrupted his moment, everyone just let him work through his feelings as they came. Same with Selka, and Cole.

Alex stood apart from them, just watching and listening. He wanted to step in and tell them something—anything—to ease the hurt. But words felt meaningless when held against the reality of pyres and graves. One by one, conversations rose and fell. Everyone shared their memories of Eric and Rynel and Sarson, as pain poured out in pieces, the names of the dead carried into the smoke.

Alex’s gaze drifted upward to the sky, and his thoughts turned inward.

He thought of the Queen’s face as she’d called him 'monster'. He thought of the strength that had coursed through him when he used the Dual Descending Fist, the way it had nearly devoured him whole. There was a strange temptation to it, the call of that power toward the void. He knew without a doubt that he would keep reaching for more. For more power, more strength, more of the edge that let him stand between his friends and death. He couldn’t stop himself. He wouldn’t, not with the System’s Trial looming behind them like an executioner.

But he also knew he couldn’t let himself forget.

He couldn't forget his humanity and his friends. The values that guided him before the System twisted everything around and upside down. He thought of Holly’s face when she’d screamed his name. Garret’s desperate denial over Eric as he held the man in his arms. Cole’s steady hand on Selka’s arm. These things held far more importance, more than raw strength.

If he lost sight of them, he’d be worse than the Queen.

Never again, Alex vowed silently. I’ll never falter like that again. I’ll fight, no matter what. But I won’t lose myself in the fight. I won’t forget who I am or who I’m fighting for.

Holly met his eyes, still holding her place near him like she always had. He gave her a faint nod. A silent promise from him to her.

Then they heard the roar of engines on the horizon.

They had arrived. The Empire had come.