Realm of Monsters-Chapter 610: To Be A Titan Part 1

Chapter 610: To Be A Titan Part 1

Jahn picked up his spear. “My mother swore that she’d one day surpass my grandmother. She developed the Blood Fang Style for that purpose.”

Melantha’s lips curled upwards. “A Style born to stop the Gale. How interesting.” She leaned forward on the wall she sat upon. “Might I inquire, what happened to your mother, Nalindra?”

Jahn’s expression turned dark. “Ask your father.”

“I see,” Melantha murmured.

Gian watched the exchange in silence. He had met Melantha a few times since Stryg had arrived at the manor. She claimed to be his sister, despite clearly being a human; the only thing the two had in common were the same pale purple eyes. But if she really was Melantha the Blue then she was not to be trifled with. Instead of questioning her, Gian preferred to listen and observe.

Stryg slipped an arm under Gale’s shoulder and helped her stand up. The duo walked over to the bench where Gian still sat. Stryg carefully helped Gale sit down before glancing up at his sister on the wall. “You’re here.”

“Someone needs to keep an eye on you,” Melantha reminded him. “Your Shadow was right, by the way. You let your emotions control you, and you wear them on your sleeve. It makes it easy to read your attacks.”

Stryg frowned and opened his mouth to speak.

Melantha snapped her fingers and pointed at him. “See there it is. That’s exactly what I mean.”

“That’s not fair,” he grumbled.

“These two on the other hand,” she looked pointedly at Gale and Jahn, “Performed remarkably. It was interesting to see the skills of the Blood Fang and Gale Styles. I thoroughly enjoyed watching your duel.”

“Thank you, Lady Melantha,” the two bowed and spoke in unison.

“Can you show us your Style?” Stryg asked, curiosity brimming in his eyes.

“There is no one here I’m interested in challenging,” said Melantha, her voice calm, borderline bored.

“What about Gian? He is the Sword Paragon.” Stryg pointed at the elder vampire.

Melantha looked Gian over, his still expression betraying nothing. “It has been a while since I have fought a Paragon. That sort of skill cannot be achieved no matter how many countless years one spends training. It requires a prodigious level of talent that few in life are ever blessed with. The fact that both you and Nalindra possessed such talent speaks greatly to the power of the Veres bloodline.”

“Your words are too kind,” said Gian.

“Nonsense. I may be talented in the blade and I’ve had centuries to develop my skills, but alas I am no Paragon. Nonetheless, my natural abilities are far greater than a vampire’s. My innate strength and agility would close the gap between our skill levels. I’d very much enjoy a mock duel between us. That is, if you were still whole.” She stared forlornly at his missing arm. “As it stands, it wouldn’t be much of a duel.”

Gian said nothing and simply inclined his head.

Stryg scowled. “You underestimate Uncle Gian. You’ve never seen him fight. He is the greatest warrior I’ve ever seen.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Mel replied.

“If this was a real duel he’d beat you,” Stryg growled. He hadn’t seen his sister fight before, but even if she was stronger he hated the way she dismissed his words as if she were speaking to a child.

Melantha’s lip curled in a small smile, she was happy to play along with her brother’s amusing behavior. “Unfortunately, even if Gian were in his prime, there are other factors that would heavily skew that duel in my favor.”

“Like what?” Stryg crossed his arms.

“Magic, for starters. Just as Gian was born with the sort of prodigious sword talent that is rarely ever seen, I was born with a similar level of talent in magic. Not to mention my— other magical abilities.”

Stryg realized she was talking about elemental chaos. “Okay, fine. What about without magic?”

Gian gave a wry smile. “Young master, there is no need to—”

Gale shook her head, a silent sign to leave it be. Gian held his tongue and watched the conversation unfold.

“Weapons.” Melantha patted the sword and shield strapped to her back, hidden underneath her cloak, save for the sword hilt. “A powerful weapon can change the course of a battle entirely. Just like your Krikolm.”

“Uncle Gian has Primoria, House Gale’s ancestral sword,” replied Stryg.

“A masterfully crafted enchanted weapon for certain. But an orichalcum weapon is something else entirely, you would know that if you spent more time with your own.”

Stryg ignored the backhanded chastisement and pushed, “Okay, what about using training swords? Then what?”

“Assuming that simple training swords could handle the sheer amount of life force Gian and I would channel through them for an extended period of time —they cannot— then the fight would be more or less even.”

“I knew it—!”

“For a while.”

“What?”

Melantha pointed at herself, then at Stryg. “We are different from them. Their life force is but a small candle compared to the inferno we possess. Even someone like Gian would exhaust his stores of energy before I’d grow tired.”

Gian’s eyebrow cocked up in interest, he had never heard such a thing before. But it was Stryg who spoke up, “What if Uncle Gian wounded you before that? Doesn’t matter how much life force you possess if you’re too injured to move.”

“True, but I heal very fast,” said Melantha.

“So do dragonbanes. That didn’t stop Uncle Gian from killing one. What makes you any different?”

Melantha narrowed her eyes and leaped off the wall, landing in front of Stryg. She looked down at him, eyes cold. He took an unconscious step back. “I am no infant, little brother. To compare me to one is disrespectful.”

Stryg swallowed. “The dragonbanes were strong—”

“The dragonbanes are infants. Two-year-olds. What do you think they would be capable of in ten years? In a century? Do you think any mortal here could kill them then?” She poked Stryg in the chest. “But you could, if you only learned how to master the powers you seem so scared of.”

Melantha looked at the troubled expression Stryg made. She sighed and shook her head. “You cannot pretend you’re like them forever. Trust me, running away from who you are will only hurt the people close to you the most.” She turned and walked away.

As Stryg watched her leave he thought of the duel he had just witnessed. There was still so much he didn’t know, powers he didn’t understand. He had relied on his chromatic magic for the last several years and they had grown significantly, but the siege had shown him how woefully unready he was for the true enemies that threatened his tribe. If he was to stand any hope of facing off against Ananta or her dragonbanes someday, he would need to master all the powers at his disposal.

“Then show me,” he called out.

Melantha stopped in her tracks and turned her head, a skeptical look in her gaze.

Stryg straightened his back and met her eyes. “Teach me what it means to be like you. To be like us.”

She smirked, pleased. “We’ll begin at once. Meet me at the Noir Manor and bring your orichalcum spear.”

~~~

The underground chamber spanned across most of the Noir Manor’s grounds, away from prying eyes. Stryg hadn’t been here since his time training with Elzri. A pang of pain burned in his chest at the thought of the late Lord Noir. Elzri was cold, harsh, and he often pushed Stryg to his limits. But Elzri had believed in him and had always made sure Stryg always had what he needed. He missed the old drow.

Despite wanting to be right by his side, Melantha had sent Gale upstairs. She insisted that she was his Shadow, but Melantha brooked no argument, stating the training and their discussions were meant for titans and titans alone. Gale begrudgingly went to wait in the parlor. She was somewhat mollified when Atlas joined her for tea. Fortunately, Loh wasn’t home. He wasn’t sure if he or Gale were ready to see her.

“Holo has explained to me your situation.” His sister’s words brought Stryg back to the moment. Melantha and he sat cross-legged on the ground in one of the many training rooms in the underground chamber. Svartna rested on Stryg’s lap, the ebon-black spear was cold to the touch, familiar yet unsettling.

“Despite being a titan hybrid you were born with no chaos and only began to accumulate the elemental mana in recent years. Which culminated in your full transformation into a titan, yes?”

Stryg nodded a little uncertainly, “Yeah, I think? Or at least, that’s what she told me.”

“Right. I assume you have gone through various changes ever since your titan nature began to awaken. Tell me about them. I need to know what sort of abilities you can tap into if I am to help you master them.”

Stryg glanced at the ceiling, thinking about his own experiences, odd as they were. “Well, I am stronger than I used to be. Like, a lot stronger. And faster too.”

“That’s natural for your titan physiology. Your strength and agility will increase with age and training.”

“I’m also heavier. I don’t feel heavier, but that’s what Feli tells me. I’m not sure if that has anything to do with this.”

“It does. Your tissues and bones will grow tougher as you age. The tougher they become the denser your body grows.”

“So I’ll be super heavy someday?”

“Relatively speaking compared to a goblin? Yes.”

“Huh. I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

“You accept it and push forward. Tell me more about other changes you’ve experienced.”

“I heal faster than I used to, even without healing magic. ”

“Holo told me about that. From what happened during your ‘incident’ with the Goldelms, your regeneration seems to still be in its infancy.” freēwēbnovel.com

“What does that mean?”

“Think of your regenerative abilities as a muscle. The more you use it, the more you strain it, the stronger it becomes. With enough time and use, your regeneration will fully develop and reach its natural limits. With age, those limits will also increase.”

“So when you say ‘use’ you mean—?”

“You must be injured for your regeneration to kick in.”

“And when you say ‘strain’—?”

“I’ll have to injure you severely. Preferably close to death if we wish to accelerate the process.”

Stryg winced. “Isn’t there any easier, less painful way?”

Melantha grinned. “You are no longer mortal, there is no reason to hold back. Make no mistake, you will bleed more in our training sessions than you ever have in your life. But by the end, you will not regret a single moment of it.”

“I mean, I’m not sure about that…”

Her expression softened, only a sliver. “Tell me about the rest.”

“I can see in the dark.” Stryg gestured to the room. There were no lit torches nor crystal magelights on the sconces. The room was bathed pitch black but he could still see her perfectly fine.

Melantha nodded. “I guessed as much. Many titans have dark vision. The children of Death all certainly do.”

“My eyes also do this weird thing when I stare at something really bright, like the sun. Everything turns dark and is outlined in these silver threads. I can see the stars even during the day. And light seems almost— physical? Like ribbons of colors, almost like silk floating in the air.”

“Bright vision,” Melantha whispered. “It’s rare. It serves a few purposes, but it usually only appears in those who carry the Astral Light. As the Astral Light ignites it grows brighter and brighter until it is blinding to even cast a glance at it. As the one who carries the Light, the bright vision allows you to retain your sight even at the Light’s pinnacle.”

“So, it stops me from going blind?”

“Among other things.”

“What about the Astral Light?”

“I am already well aware you possess it.”

“Can’t you tell me more about it?”

“I will, in time. All you must learn about it right now is restraint. The Astral Light is incredibly dangerous, to others and yourself. You were lucky the first time it ignited. If you’re not careful, and it ignites again, you could easily eviscerate your own body from within, resulting in a very excruciating death.”

Stryg swallowed hard. “Duly noted.”

“Now, tell me more.”