Chapter 16 – Awakening of the Dark Overlord

He let the last one suffer, feeding it too much mana but not quite enough to cause it to explode.  The bug wasn’t stupid, just conditioned.  The bugs needed mana to survive.  This one was getting to the point that any time it sensed mana it would flinch before going towards it, but that wasn’t what Charles wanted.

Charles wanted the bug to be so afraid of its only source of food that it would starve itself to death.

“You weren’t always like this, you had goals, ambition,” said a quiet voice, a voice he almost always ignored.

It was time, past time really.  Charles watched the bug crawl towards the hammer only to catch a stray blast of lightning which quickly ended the poor creature.  Holding up his hand, he summoned the weapon.

It slapped into his palm and discharged enough lightning into it to cause actual damage.  Without the anvil, Charles couldn’t even fix the damn thing.  Jim was going to die, but not before he gave back the anvil.

Excalibur was also gone, stolen by the idiot.  Without the animating spirit it would have been less than before.  Still, Charles needed a sword and Jim’s sword was just laying there.  He picked up the cheap blade of High Steel and tried not to sneer.  He failed.

He was used to end game equipment made of Adamant, or Cauldron Steel.  This was mid level trash, at best.  Still, it was Jim’s and he needed something to shove into that asshole’s heart.

Fortunately, he still had some alchemical components laying around and enchanting blades was still simple enough, assuming he didn’t want to use magic while using the weapon.  He found all sorts of terrible nasties throughout his ex’s stores.  All of them were quite potent, but none were really what he was looking for.

He needed Jim to suffer.

Then he remembered a smell, and dug around pushing aside a jug of corn whiskey.  It hit the ground and shattered.  Charles stopped, staring down at the jug.

It's not much of a gift, but I know what you like.

He stared at the shards of that thousand year old jug for a minute, then another.  She kept the damn thing, all these centuries.  He pushed through the pieces, lifting out the bottom and the footprint was still there because a badger had to help his companion.

If she knew Badgelor had gathered up the clay he used to make this she would have killed him.

“No chance in that now,” said Charles as he dropped the shard.  It struck the ground and shattered into bits as he pulled out the vial of Elder Demon’s blood.  He sniffed once, it was Michaels of course.  Kevin would still be up in the tower somewhere sulking in his uselessness.

Grebthar unstopped the poison and ran it down the blade while he began chanting a spell.  Each word caused the entire room to light up until he was quickly surrounded by a nimbus of power.

The curse was cast.

· Dripping Venom Curse:  This weapon has been cursed and will eternally drip whatever poison it was exposed to.  Cost of the curse depends on the type of poison used.  Type of Poison Used; Elder Demon Blood

Charles immediately dropped the blade.  It sank into the ground slightly as the drippings of elder demon blood potted the stone below it.  The alchemically treated stone was designed to resist almost anything.

Of course, that meant he couldn’t hold the blade either as it dripped from everywhere.  Limitations like that didn’t bother him, every poison had a weakness and Elder Demon’s blood was no different.  The answer was simple, you simply couldn’t touch the blade.

Charles was a spellcaster.  He simply mouthed the words to a telekinesis spell and caused his sword to hover next to him.  A second spell caused a current of air to blow the poison away from his person.  The final spell he cast was an illusionary arm designed to look real.

It was as real as anything else in this game.

Sighing he started pulling in his divine flesh.  He did not like anything to do with bodily transformation, but sometimes compromises must be made.  His fingers vanished from his now missing arm and erupted out of the remaining one.

Two arms were easier, ultimately.  Charles could give himself ten arms, but actually controlling that many limbs was annoying.  Plus, with two arms he felt mostly normal even if one was a magical construct and the other had 8 working fingers.

Perfectly normal.

Charles walked up out of his dungeon for the last time, he was going to find Jim and kill him.  Then maybe destroy the world.