Forged Legacy

Chapter 122 - Divine Intervention

Radiant orange and steely blue light burst from Harvey’s weave, the entire network of inky veins briefly becoming visible as his Class reached level 45. The process no longer felt like being burned alive, but more like his body being recharged as the System flooded him with all the essence he’d accumulated while he fought.

[Damn, Harvey. Didn’t know there was a beast like that inside you.]

Always has been.

[Did it call out sick when Julian found you hiding up a tree, screaming like a little girl?]

Shut up.

Harvey turned to find the angel kneeling in the road, not caring that the asphalt was turning the lower half of his ivory robes black.

“Lord, thank you for delivering me from the hands of my enemies. Thank you for sending this gilded man to my aid. I know that all things are possible through your divine hand, and I will strive to become an instrument with the strength that thou may use to deliver another from the depths of hell. Amen.”

“Nobody sent me. Unless you’re praying to the System right now,” Harvey announced, moving to help the man to his feet.

“What? Who would pray to the System?” the angel asked.

“How should I know? A few months ago, the only System I ever used was Windows.”

“You ascend by looking out windows? Is it because you’re Gilded?”

“I’ve been Gilded for less than an hour,” Harvey chuckled. “I think we’re both a little lost here. Can we start over? I’m Harvey. Formerly human, but the System changed my race after surviving a trial fighting an army of undead sycophants worshipping the Necrolords. It said my family was in here, so here I am.”

The angel looked stunned, confusion replacing the joy in his eyes. “I’m Cash, an angel of the Lord.”

“Cash? Like money?”

[I wonder whose faces are printed on angel dollars?]

“Well, it’s short for Cassian. Are you not an envoy of the Father?”

“I don’t think so? I went to church growing up, but fell out of the habit in college. Honestly, the gunshots were what led me over. I didn’t expect to see guns again. My trial was all swords and magic.”

“Damn it,” he swore, before catching himself and glancing skyward.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Harvey laughed.

“No. It’s not like that,” Cash stumbled. “You’re a real lifesaver. It’s just that things haven’t been going great lately, and I was hoping the Father found a way to help us out.”

“Is he actually here?” Harvey asked. Would he actually get to meet God in this place? The slums of some city back home didn’t seem like the place to do it, but who was he to say?

“The Father? You think an S-Grade being, the light of heaven, creator of angelkind, and savior of man, would waste his time in an integration trial?”

“Weren’t you just praying for him to waste time then?”

“Well… No! Just to help me out a bit. I was expecting holy fire or spears of light, but then you showed up. Excuse me for thinking a gilded wiping out all the sinners and helping me kill that demon was divine intervention.”

[He’s got a point.]

Thinking back on how it all must look from the angel’s perspective, it did make sense.

“Well, I didn’t even know the S-Grade existed until now, but I am here to help if I can,” Harvey offered. “Can we talk somewhere else, though? I’m worried about one of these buildings falling on my head.”

The fire still raged after the serpent’s eruption ignited the bushes and businesses flanking the wide street, and his ocular skill showed the air getting hotter every passing second.

“Good idea,” Cash said before a flap of his wings sent him bounding back towards the dead humans Harvey assumed came with the angel. Harvey followed with a quick jet from Booster, the air noticeably cooler even 100 feet away from the inferno.

[You guys are just going to let it burn?]

How are we supposed to fight it? Half my skills would just make it worse, and it’s not like there’s a firetruck lying around.

[I know. It just hurts my soul,] Julius sighed dramatically.

You don’t have a soul.

“We need to bring their bodies back to their families,” Cash said, carefully picking up each of the fallen warriors before they disappeared into a slipsack. Unlike the black-clad shooters Harvey killed, these wore simple tactical gear that was a mix of khaki, white, and silver. It looked like garb you’d find at one of those hunting warehouse stores back home, but with a cleaner look instead of haphazard camo.

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“Can I keep some of the guns?” Harvey asked, seeing a rifle and pistol lying on the ground.

“You can, but those probably aren’t much better than the other attacks I saw you use,” Cash shrugged.

“Really? Why not?”

“We had to make them weak enough that firing them wouldn’t break a shoulder or blow off a hand. These humans were all around level 20.”

“You couldn’t just make the gun compensate for all the extra force?”

“That’s possible, but more expensive than it’s worth. Guns like that use materials and techniques we can’t mass produce inside a trial like this, and even if we could, the firepower would only increase a few levels above the person shooting it.”

He guessed that made sense. Swords and hammers were similar, but the risk was not being able to swing them or power their inscriptions, rather than shattering your hand. He’d already seen weapons grow obsolete. The bolts of his old wand had been devastating early on in the trial, but by the time he fought the first F Grade, it was only useful when he blew it up inside the elemental’s body.

“So what’s the point in using them? Can you make gun skills?” Harvey asked.

“You can make skills for paperclips if you want to. Probably wouldn’t be very helpful, but the System wouldn’t stop you as long as you weren’t using one of those G Grade cheats,” Cash answered.

“Cheats? Every answer you give me adds three more questions,” Harvey laughed.

“I’ll answer them all, just help me gather everything, and I’ll explain on the walk back to camp.”

The crash of a second building behind them reminded Harvey they weren’t safe, and he rushed to gather as many guns and loaded magazines as he could find without rummaging through the corpses' belongings. The demon’s body was out of reach, but Harvey found another lying in a pool of blood with a tight grouping of bullet holes cutting through a silky red dress. She was tall, like the others, with glossy black hair, cherry-red lips, and curves only the best plastic surgeons could replicate. The feathers of her ebony wings were matted with blood.

“Her too?” Harvey asked.

“Yep, the feathers are useful for certain inks and potions,” Cash responded.

Part of him still blanched at the thought of using body parts for ink, but he’d already planned on doing the same with the Ossari and their dragon. An enticing, rosy perfume wafted up from her body as he moved her into the spatial ring, the scent strong enough to make him blank out for a second before his aura instinctively condensed around him.

Two of the humans – or sinners, as Cash had called them – were in buildings that were already ablaze, but Harvey flew up to loot the last pair before fleeing into an alleyway that would take them off the main road. Cash wasn’t far behind and took out a vial of thick, clear gel that he poured over his head. The liquid rapidly spread to cover his entire body, clothes and all, before bursting into brilliant splendor. When the light faded, all the blood and grime staining his robes were gone, leaving him perfectly clean.

“Whatever that was? I want some,” Harvey gasped.

“Here, we’ve got tanks of the stuff,” Cash said, handing Harvey a vial.

Uncorking the stopper, he tipped it over his head. At first, he couldn’t feel anything through the helmet, but the gel rapidly moved to cover every inch of skin. The smell reminded him of sparkling wine. Subtle, but hard to ignore considering the stuff coated the inside of his nostrils. He felt nothing as the light burned away the grime covering both his body and his armor, but suddenly he was clean.

“We really could have used this in the last trial,” Harvey marvelled.

“Come on, we can chat on the way,” Cash said, leading Harvey down the dimly lit alley. The sky above hadn’t changed since Harvey appeared, a gray dusk that provided just enough light to see without the help of the fluorescent bulbs of the streetlights lining the main roads. “You said your trial was fighting the undead?”

“Yeah.”

“So you died on the day of the integration?” Cash confirmed.

“How did you know that?”

“It’s one of the standard trials the System uses for newly integrated worlds. I’ve never heard of the Necrolords you mentioned, but there are plenty of undead factions out in the multiverse.”

“Is this another standard trial then?” Harvey asked.

“Not quite as common. People die on every unintegrated planet every day, but not all planets have heard the echoes of our Father’s legacy.”

“I was wondering about that. How could an S-Grade affect a planet outside the System’s control?” Harvey asked.

“He’s powerful enough that his will can pierce the shroud the System places on seedling planets. Sometimes by accident. A select few living on those planets who happen to resonate with his path are shown visions of his glory, often becoming the prophets who spread his message millennia before the System ever arrives. Most get a few details wrong, but almost all of your old world’s religions were sparked by the legacy of unfathomably powerful beings.”

“So you don’t believe your God is the only one worth following?” Harvey asked.

“Of course not. As the progenitor of my race, my weave is attuned to his legacy, but I recognize his path is not for everyone,” Cash replied as if it were a matter of course.

[It’s weird to see an angel be less of a zealot than some of the people back home,] Julius said.

I know, right? He’d been worried the angels might be just as bad as the demons, but Cash was a lot more relaxed than he’d expected. Sure, he was reverent when they talked about his ideology, but wasn’t everyone like that?

They maintained a steady pace, Harvey detailing the events of his last trial while they moved through the city. They passed multiple lava-filled scars while they jogged through alleys and empty streets. Eventually, the sky above began to change. Where before it felt like the sun had just set, here he felt the uneasy stillness of waking before dawn. The air was different, and the city around them began to change. Tightly packed city blocks with liquor stores, hole-in-the-wall restaurants, and convenience stores opened up into suburban streets. Wide open spaces with trimmed hedges and brick walls surrounding neighborhoods with names like The Estates at Oak Ridge and Sunrise Hollow. Many of the homes were destroyed, and smoke rose from multiple smoldering remains of what used to be single-family homes.

“What is this place?” Harvey asked.

“It used to be the border between us and the demons, but we’ve lost a lot of ground over the last month.”

“I can see that.”

“Our current defensive line is up ahead, under the first rays of dawn. Stay close behind me. The snipers shouldn’t attack a gilded on sight, but there also shouldn’t be any in this trial. They might assume the demons are playing a trick on us. They probably aren’t expecting to see me either,” Cash muttered.

“Why not? And you keep bringing up my race, does the gilded have something to do with the angels?” Harvey asked.

“No, but many touched by life are friendly to us and the other churches. Your legacy hasn’t been touched by our Father, but many of your kind choose to attune yourselves at some point,” Cash explained. “As to why they aren’t expecting me. The rest of my contingent left me for dead.”