Serpentlord (Rise To Omniscience Book 9) Read online

  SERPENTLORD

  Rise to Omniscience

  Book Nine

  AARON OSTER

  For my sisters. I hope you read this one day!

  Prologue

  Although space is a vacuum and sound shouldn’t exist, physics generally doesn’t mean much to all-powerful beings. That was why the speakers on either side of the tall, vertical screen blasted music at an astounding volume, despite its current location. Two panels, both covered in colored squares, stood before it, lighting up in dazzling patterns in time to some truly awful music.

  The words ‘Dance Stomp Repetition’ blazed above the screen, highlighting the two nearly identical figures standing before it. Both of them stared at the screen, moving quickly as the tempo sped up. But, when the song ended, the flashing screen proclaimed it a draw.

  “Why in our name would you think a game that involved physical movement would be a good idea?” Chaos snapped as both figures sagged into a pair of chairs that simultaneously appeared from nowhere.

  “I don’t know,” Order replied, pulling a truly massive cup filled to the brim with dark, bubbling liquid from the cupholder. “Thought it might be fun.”

  He took a deep drink, enjoying the rush of fizzing, sugary goodness, while his opposite took small, quick sips from his cup of plain club soda.

  “What I don’t understand is why you insisted on trying to exhaust us,” Chaos said, wiping sweat from his forehead.

  Neither of them could truly tire, seeing as their physical manifestations weren’t made of real flesh and blood. Still, it was the self-imposed exhaustion that even made these competitions worth it.

  “Well, it’s your turn next,” Order said, taking another sip. “Maybe you’ll pick something a bit more fun.”

  The words had barely left his mouth, when a pair of stationary, plastic seats appeared before them. A black wheel extended from the front of the boxy screen, and a pair of pedals jutted from the console where their feet would go.

  “Really?” Order asked as Chaos went to sit in the uncomfortable seat that would undoubtedly make them sweat.

  “You picked something I hated, so now it’s my turn,” Chaos said, giving him a wide grin.

  Sighing, Order moved to take his seat. As he walked, his feet landing on empty space as though it were solid ground, he got a good look at the roiling planet below. Something had been stolen from him, his leverage over his only real chance of defeating Chaos.

  One of his planetary caretakers had snuck in while he’d been occupied and stolen a soul. He couldn’t exactly leave to punish the man for his actions – he was too occupied with his battle. But, seeing as Morgan had killed one of Chaos’s agents, he was fairly confident they would be going after him regardless of whether he wanted to fight them or not.

  His eyes flicked over to the continent of Faeland, where death and destruction were taking place at such a rampant pace that the continent wouldn’t be able to sustain it for long. Blackness swirled over the area, clearly showing that Chaos was growing in that area. On the other hand, the continent where the Five Kingdoms were located was settling down, though it was clear that there were still some wild elements that had yet to come into play.

  “Hey, quit stalling and get over here,” Chaos said.

  Turning back, Order rolled his eyes as he saw the car selection sitting on his counterpart’s screen.

  “A minivan? Really?” Order asked, taking his seat.

  Chaos just grinned, gesturing mockingly to the second console. Order supposed he had a good point. If all they would do was continuously end in a draw, it really didn’t matter which car he chose. Still, Order couldn’t go against his nature, and when the selection came up, he chose the fastest, loudest hyper-car he could.

  It would most certainly end in a draw, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try. A series of numbers flashed on the screen, and Order jammed his foot down on the pedal. The race had begun.

  ***

  Octagon the Bitter, Pinnacle King of Winter, had never truly gone back to sleep. He’d been shackled to his altar, chained down and held in place, prevented from so much as moving. And yet, he could still sense the outside world. Even from his position hundreds of miles beneath the surface of the ocean, cocooned inside his icy prison, Octagon could feel the world moving on without him.

  For the first few weeks, he’d thrashed and fought against his bonds, trying desperately to break them, but after a while, he simply did not have the strength. For a while, he simply lay there in a suspended state of animation, his mind, neither awake nor asleep.

  But then, just a few months ago, another of his siblings had awoken. For a time, he was hopeful that he would soon be free. But Pentagon had ultimately failed, just as he had. But, unlike him, she was not locked away. She was killed.

  At first, Octagon couldn’t believe such a thing to be possible. After all, who could kill a Pinnacle King? But when Decagon rose, only to fall, Octagon knew it to be true.

  Power rumbled and shook the world, tearing it to pieces. Across the sea, thousands of miles away, he could sense immense powers at work, savage and brutal. He’d sensed the awakening of a King, a beast among beasts, and all of this from the bottom of the sea, still locked away in his icy prison.

  He ground his teeth together as he felt the stirrings from his last remaining siblings, the Pinnacle Kings of the East and Central Kingdoms, awakening in their underground lairs. It would be several months before either would fully awaken, but seeing as two of them had already been killed, it wouldn’t really make a difference.

  However, their last sibling, the oldest and strongest among them, might have a chance. He was the most clever of the bunch, so maybe…

  A small disturbance in the air made Octagon look to his left, his eyes, the only part of his body he could still move, flicking to one side.

  Of course, he could see nothing. Night vision was only useful so long as there was a source of light. But down here, in the depths of the sea, there wasn’t so much as a glimmer. He squinted as light suddenly flared, bright and blue, but as a Pinnacle King, something as simple as seeing light after years in darkness wouldn’t keep him down for long.

  Quickly growing accustomed to the light, Octagon looked to its source, seeing two figures standing just a few feet from his altar. Of course, this room was much smaller than it had once been due to the collapse after his fight with the Beast King. However, while one figure was unmistakably him, the other was simply an impossibility.

  Octagon growled, the rumbling sounding low in his chest. He was unable to speak because of his restraints, which affected his mental form of communication as well. Being unable to do anything these past few years should have been damaging to his psyche, but he was made of tougher stuff than the pitiful human standing before him.

  “He looks surprised to see you,” the Beast King said, his bright, golden eyes reflecting the light of the shining blue lantern he held aloft.

  He was different than Octagon remembered. He looked older, broader, and taller. His very spirit made Octagon’s tremble. If his siblings had been forced to face this monster, it was no wonder they’d been killed. No one was supposed to be this powerful.

  “Makes sense. After all, I should be dead.”

  This came from the woman standing next to him, the one with braided red hair. What she said was true. She should be dead. He had killed her himself, ran her through with his claws, and watched the life bleed from her. Her core had been destroyed. Yet here she stood, stronger and fitter than ever.

  Something about her felt off, though. It was almost as if she weren’t entirely human.

  “What? Nothing to say?” the woman asked, q
uirking an eyebrow.

  Octagon narrowed his eyes and the Beast King let out a snort of laughter.

  “I don’t think he’ll be saying much, what with how well we tied him up.”

  The Beast King shrugged, then began walking toward him, his left hand reaching out and pulling a shining silvery-blue spear from a tear in space. Octagon could immediately feel the power radiating off that weapon and the sheer, destructive capabilities sealed within. He knew he was good as dead the moment he saw that weapon.

  The Beast King had him dead to rights. He was bound to the altar and couldn’t move. All it would take was a single thrust. His core would shatter, and he would cease to be. It was a poor way to go after all this time, but he simply didn’t have the strength to free himself.

  Still, he made sure to meet the Beast King’s eyes as he raised the spear high. If Octagon were going to die, he would not flinch from death. The spear flashed, but instead of the searing agony he’d expected, Octagon felt something else entirely.

  His mind was fully awakened, snapped from its half-slumber as the shackles binding him to the altar were shattered. In a single blow, the Beast King had done the impossible, though Octagon could not fathom as to why.

  He was on his feet in an instant, his body warping and contorting as he transformed into his full, bestial shape. White hair sprouted from all over his body, massive horns and batlike wings extending from his head and back. His tail, long and scaled, flicked out, and his claws lengthened and sharpened.

  Within seconds, he towered over the Beast King and the girl who should have been dead, yet neither of them seemed too worried.

  “Wow. He’s even uglier than I remembered,” the girl said, looking up at him.

  “You can say that again,” the Beast King replied, staring at him without so much as a hint of fear.

  Although he wanted nothing less than to attack, Octagon’s instincts warned him against that.

  “Why?” he asked, his voice rumbling, both in their minds and aloud.

  “Because killing you while you couldn’t fight back would hardly be satisfying,” the Beast King said with a shrug.

  Octagon bared his teeth, working quickly on weaving reiki from his separated mana and chi.

  “You wish to make sport of me, Beast King?” he growled.

  “Not at all,” the Beast King replied with a shrug. “I won’t be fighting you. She will.”

  Octagon’s eyes flicked to the girl. Aside from looking a bit older, nothing much really seemed to have changed since the last time he’d seen her. She still seemed pitifully weak, nothing at all like the monster who had shattered his icy chains.

  “You really expect me to believe that?” Octagon asked.

  “Believe what you like,” the Beast King said. “She wanted to fight you, and I won’t interfere.”

  Octagon’s lips curled up in a wicked smile, his sharpened teeth showing in spiny rows.

  “You’re going to let me kill this girl a second time? You truly are a beast.”

  “Who said you’d be killing me?” the girl asked, cutting into their conversation.

  Octagon ignored her, keeping his eyes fixed on the Beast King.

  “Why should I bother fighting this girl? If I kill her, you will kill me. Although it would give me great pleasure to cause you pain, especially after what you did to me, I do not wish to die.”

  “If you kill her, I’ll let you go,” the Beast King said.

  Octagon hesitated for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he tried to see past the obvious deception. It was difficult to get a read on this creature, especially seeing as his spirit was barely even recognizable after all this time. It was as though he were staring at a blank wall, with the smallest of peepholes giving him a look to the other side. What little he could see told him he couldn’t hope to win in a fight against this creature, but other than that, there was nothing.

  “And why should I believe you?”

  “You don’t have to,” the Beast King said. “Because I’m not giving you a choice. Either you fight her, or you don’t. Either way, you’ll end up dead.”

  Octagon felt his lips pull back in a snarl.

  “Fine,” he growled. “If this human wants so desperately to die again, I will be more than happy to rip her to pieces!”

  Octagon spread his wings wide, then lunged, only for his surroundings to vanish, replaced instantly by the surface world.

  The moon shone in the sky, illuminating the glittering landscape of ice and snow for miles around. For a single instant, Octagon wondered what the hell had happened, but when his eyes flicked to the Beast King, who was now standing some thirty yards away, he knew it had been him.

  Any notions of running were driven completely from his mind.

  No matter what he said, Octagon knew that the Beast King had freed him for a single reason — revenge. He flexed his fingers as he turned his gaze back on the woman who was supposed to be a corpse. She stood just ten yards from him, her braided hair sitting still over one of her shoulders and her eyes locked firmly on his.

  The Beast King had killed his siblings and would kill him as well, but if he were going to die, he would make sure this woman came along with him. The last time he’d killed her, it had caused the Beast King an immense amount of emotional pain. It would give him the greatest of pleasure to inflict that wound again.

  The wind whooshed as Octagon spread his wings wide, unleashing his power. Purple reiki engulfed his body, blazing forth in a freezing wave. Ice cracked in the air around him as he asserted his dominance over the landscape.

  He roared, his voice echoing in the night as he blasted forward, his arm pulled back to deliver a devastating attack. He closed the distance between him and the girl in an instant, his ice-covered claws thrusting toward her chest. She was too slow, far too slow, and Octagon cheered inwardly, already savoring his victory.

  A hand clamped down on his wrist, stopping the claws mere inches from her stomach. Octagon stumbled, the force of his momentum halted in an instant. He looked down at the girl and was shocked to see a massive, icy hand locking his wrist in place. The girl stood there, her arms folded beneath her chest, while the hand, seemingly extending from midair, clamped down harder, grinding the bone.

  Octagon roared in pain, pulling his other arm back and striking at the girl, only to have another icy hand appear from nowhere, halting him in his tracks. Unlike the glowing blue one encasing his right wrist, this hand was a dark crimson—the same color as blood.

  Octagon’s eyes widened as the girl looked up at him. Her eyes were glowing unnaturally. One was a solid blue, while the other was a dark red, matching the color of the two arms holding him in place.

  “Is that really all you’ve got?”

  Her voice was colder than anything Octagon had heard before, but he was the King of Winter and would not be intimidated.

  With a roar, Octagon flooded his body with power and tore himself free of the powerful grip locking him in place. He beat his wings, launching himself into the air and hovering some fifty feet up. Wind whipped around him as they beat against the air, keeping him aloft.

  The girl stared up at him, her mismatched eyes sending chills running down his spine. The two arms still hovered to either side of her, fading near her shoulder and growing more solid as they extended outward. Neither of them seemed damaged, which meant that she’d either regenerated them extremely fast or let him go.

  Octagon felt a small thrill of fear, which was quickly overtaken by pure rage. He would show her what real power looked like and would teach her the meaning of despair before he ran her through!

  Power coiled around his form, reiki twisting into a familiar pattern as he reached for the Ultimate Skill unique to his kind. Freezing air whipped his fur into spikes, the wind kicking up on the ground as he asserted his dominance over his element.

  Raising both arms into the sky, his body blazing with violet light, Octagon voiced his skill aloud.

  “Absolute Zero!”
r />   The world froze, the very air crystallizing under the absolute, deep freezing skill. Absolute Zero was just that — a skill that would create an environment of such cold that everything would freeze. Chest heaving with the effort of using such a powerful skill so soon after being freed, Octagon drifted to the ground among the freezing mist that still lingered in the air.

  The attack had been costly, but in just a few moments, he’d recover. He would enjoy seeing the look of pure shock and terror on the frozen girl’s face. This time, he would shatter her corpse so that she would not come back from the dead again.

  “Is that all?”

  Octagon whirled, his eyes going wide as the mists cleared to reveal the girl, completely unfrozen and seemingly fine. His mouth opened, his jaws moving up and down, but no words were forthcoming.

  “Nothing to say?” she asked, slowly advancing, the hovering, mismatched arms floating by her sides.

  Octagon growled, forcing his trembling hands up into a defensive posture. He still had another Ultimate Skill. All he needed was a little time to gather up the power he needed. She might have been able to survive his Absolute Zero, but there was no way she’d be able to live through his Arctic Rampage.

  The girl shot forward, the glittering blue hand lancing out and slamming into his upraised arms. The blow had an enormous amount of power. Octagon roared in pain as he felt his left forearm fracture and the shoulder dislocate. His arm dropped, just in time for the crimson arm to spear him straight through his chest, sharpened fingers punching through his tough skin as though it were made of paper.

  Octagon dropped to his knees, eyes going wide and roaring in agony as he felt his core cracking and his organs tearing themselves apart. The entry wound was significant, but he could feel what was really happening. Thousands of needles extended from the arm lodged in his chest, punching through him from the inside. The arm ripped free then, allowing a fountain of blood to pour from the gaping wound.

  Blood stained his lips as Octagon looked up and saw the girl looming over him. He inhaled, feeling his lungs, which were punched full of holes, fill with blood. He heaved, going into a coughing fit and further spraying the ground with flecks of crimson.