It didn't take long for other demon lords to start to muscle their way into the Worldwound. What the demonic host lacks in discipline they more than make up for with opportunism and enthusiasm. That is how the Abyss stood against the perfect order embodied by Hell since the age of creation.
Sarkoris have always been a place where the membrane separating planes is at its tinniest, it is no wonder there have been other demonic cults since before the Time of Troubles and the Worldwound. Nenio's little quest just brought this truth to the surface.
While the science enthusiast kitsune wanted to go on this fetch quest in search of promised 'limitless knowledge' I had no intention to play along with the entity pulling the strings. Lateral thinking for the win.
Exploiting the hell out of shadow conjuration I fooled the entrance system into believing the ivory masks provided to each statue were real, a trick so perfect it fooled the world itself and the magic statue as a side-effect. Panaka was thoroughly impressed too and we moved on inside an Egyptian-looking ruin, just to have our progress impeded once more.
"
Behold the truth. Open yourself to knowledge. Reveal yourself." A cold, indifferent voice fills the desolated Egyptian temple.
Despite the implicit threat it carried, those words only served to instigate Nenio. "Here I come, the greatest scientist in Golarion and her followers! We overcame your riddle with some lateral thinking and now I wish to converse with you and run some experiments while at it."
"
The absence of answer is an answer too." The voice boomed once more.
"That is not true," Nenio retorted displaying how serious this topic was to her. "the absence of an answer just means you have to keep searching!
There must always be an answer!" The kitsune voiced her first principle, declaring it like a hammer against the disembodied voice.
"
The Enigma knows the answer to all questions."
"I don't like it in here," Arueshalae shivers as if caught by a sudden chill. "this place… I feel the presence of something immense, terrible, and inescapably evil."
"My dear Arueshalae, that is why we are here," I say while scanning the place with the sharp senses of a heroic cultivator while lore-dumping the data from the brain collector. "The Enigma, the realm of Areshkagal, the Keeper of Secrets and daughter of Lamashtu. Sarkoris has always been a place of great extraplanar activity. We must coerce the denizens of the beyond it is more trouble than it is worth if we want peace."
Panaka somehow seems to flinch at my final remark. Interesting, but irrelevant for now.
"The entity that spoke to us knows all the answers. I must meet it at once." Nenio says, unconcerned with the origin of our new sponsor.
"Do you really think it will be that easy? Nenio, curb your enthusiasm. Demons are entities of chaos. Areshkagal is more concerned with control, answers are just means to this end."
"But I want to know!" Nenio barked without any shame or hesitation. "The pursuit of answers is what gives my life meaning."
"Then you should remember.
No one will ever truly know a thing until they've seen it for themselves." I evoke the principle of my Enlightened Soul, which seems to mollify her somewhat.
We moved on inside the crypt. The place was full of mundane and magical traps, the walls stamped with riddles written in Egyptian hieroglyph, and endless undead, including mummies. Especially mummies.
Eventually, we reached a circular plaza with four statues like the ones leading in this place.
Then the same voice touches all our minds, trying to displace all of my thoughts with its intensity. "
Behold the Truth. Open yourself to knowledge. Reveal yourself.
Who are you?"
"I am Zagreus."
That was when the presence hidden behind the voice used a psychic attack against my monument to Ego while proselytizing to us. "
That is just a mask you wear to hide the truth about yourself. Tear that mask off and let it fall at my feet."
While my companions cried out in pain, I invoked my rhetoric to brush the thing's comment off from my companions' minds like the useless burden it was. "Wrong! It just serves to show how much of a charlatan you are, you don't know everything after all!
A name chosen is just as worthy as a name given!" I say those last words backed by my mythical might, orphic comeliness, and ivory deceit.
This time it was the disembodied voice that grunted in pain. Ivory might deceit while horn fulfills but one can only verify it by cracking it open and then it can no longer serve as a cup. Unless the creature could categorically prove beyond reasonable doubt that what I say is a lie through uncontestable evidence she will have no means to refute me. This is one of the mythical excellencies I developed during my tenure in Golarion.
Nenio looked at me with a mix of awe and embarrassment. "Zagreus… while impressive I am pretty sure this was a riddle. It was asking what happens when you take away a person's past and present, depriving them of their identity."
"And as I told you before, the thing can't be trusted. This was a leading question intending to force you to admit to being nothing. It is prepping all who play along to further manipulation." I say as I march toward the sealed door ahead of us. "If you hunger for something but it can't be provided or purchased then it is only natural for you to take it. For discourse to turn into dispute."
I made a point by punching the stone door down, quaking the crypt with my blow. The Eye of The Hurricane has elevated me to the point where I feel I have the strength of a thousand men at base even though I should be about half it based on my current standing. Is this how Gojo always feels by bearing a lesser mystery within himself? No wonder he was such a shithead as a kid, I feel invincible.
What we found ahead of us were even more puzzles, traps, and undead. I blew through all of them while enslaving the undead crossing our way and used them as sacrificial lambs to trigger all the traps so we could march unimpeded.
My carrion hands of intention made sure to pocket everything of worth not nailed down to the ground for our war coffin. Part of the tomb was collapsed and filled with sand hiding magical beasts one would expect in the desert, trap-door spiders the size of bulls and scorpions the size of minivans.
At some point, we found some contraption that only worked by powering magical crystals, more as a need to be contrived than a true necessity so I just created a fake one from my shadow and ivory lies to forge ahead.
I knew we were getting closer to the Areshkagal by the retinue of mythical sphinxes, griffons, and other mythical creatures. Even the mummies were getting fancier and more powerful. I just started barbecuing them with chain lightning easily cutting through magical wards, magical resistances, and natural immunities the creatures owed to have.
With the Eye of the Hurricane as a second heart, I inherited Khorramzadeh's dominion over lightning and the title of Storm Lord. It was nice to be on the other end of these bolts for once in my entire life. Since Iroh zapped me all those years ago I have had a bit of a trauma involving it, it is nice to put it behind me now.
Then we found a bottomless abyss in our way. Endless darkness even my eyes couldn't pierce through. The only hint was two more statues with the inscription 'Journey into emptiness. Know yourself.'
A leap of faith then.
"Follow me," I order them as we march. Despite the present void, our feet find purchase in the abyss. The inky darkness devours the light as if defending itself from revealing any of its secrets. As we march forward the darkness devours us too. It closes all around us and we find ourselves floating in empty space.
"
Journey into emptiness. Know yourself." The monotonous voice once more boomed yet it couldn't hide from me the hate and fury for what I did. "
Do the crusades have a purpose? Will they change anything? What will your victory achieve?"
"Another riddle!" Nenio says, excited with our progress. I just hope she takes my words to heart. "Fascinating! I predict that the most obvious answer will not satisfy our mysterious interlocutor.
"We are in the Enigma. We should consider this Abyssal Realm's perspective on the confrontation between the demons and the Crusaders. The Enigma is not related to the Worldwound in any way. Though it may seem important to those involved, it should look small and insignificant from the perspective of the Universe."
"Maybe, but Areshkagal does. Plus," I say as I ignite the Dharma wheel pneumatic chamber in my chest, now bearing four more spokes, four labors, four defiant miracles written by the stars in the fabric of the universe. "
even if the flesh is weak, deeds endure! That is my answer!" I declare as I manifest my pneuma in a supernova of blinding glory, daring the voice to contest my divinity.
"Why would the universe care about crusades? Do the stars even know of Golarion existence? (she knows they do)
A grain of sand is limited by its surroundings, all it can see are other grains of sand. (yet the snowflake doesn't fault himself for the avalanche)
But when removed from those surroundings, when it discovers the emptiness of the void, the grains of sand gain perceptive of the grandeur of the Universe!" (the Universe or yours?)
Times like this I realize how crazy I am. How far I have gone. Picking a fight with a demon lord inside their domain is an entirely different ballpark, but my experience against Unity came in handy. I could feel Areshkagal seizing control of her domain and trying to use it to crush me with it, sealing me in this abyss forever, but her rhetoric is flawed. Smokes and mirrors, too long reveling in mysteries and absurdity.
"Some riddles can't be solved and must simply be accepted, right? How convenient for you, a cheap way to claim omniscience! You are a con artist like the Hurricane Hierophant!" I was sure her muses allowed her to know more than most were ever allowed to know but I am not above some sophistry to get my way. My attack has the intended effect and I sever the part of Areshkagal's domain my light touched from her direct control, lifting the veil of darkness.
Eventually, we rummaged through all the dungeon, collecting or forging all McGuffins to move on, opening the portal to its sanctum sanctorum.
In the antechamber, we find withered and crazed worshipers dressed in rags and ranting nonsense in Areshkagal's glory.
"I reject my past, present, and future." One said.
"I shall forget my name and the names of everyone I know." Babbled another.
"Oh, great Areshkagal!" Screeched a third one.
"I shall become part of your riddle!"
"Pour meaning into my meaningless existence!"
"I am nothing, now and forever!"
"It sounds like a prayer or an oath." Nenio assessed with her usual inquisitiveness. "There is a high probability we will be asked to recite it. I hate to memorize all this gibberish, but the things I do for science…" She complains about the hoops our voyeur is requesting of us while ignoring all the red flags practically hitting her in the face.
"I think this is the least of our worries, my dear." Dearan says in fond exasperation.
"He is right!" Panaka asserted, displaying knowledge he had no means of knowing. "All demon lords have fearsome unique abilities. Some can possess anyone anywhere who says their names a certain number of times or in certain conditions."
Lann, an amateur demon hater (cleric), pounced at the worst conclusion. "Areshkagal created puzzles that force whoever enters to admit being nothing to progress. If Zagreus weren't here being his usual aggravating self, we would be halfway into becoming one of them!" He says while pointing at the poor wretches in front of us.
"Cultists," Seelah said the adjective as if it was a curse, as a professional demon hater (paladin) owed to. "They are always spouting gibberish about something or other. Some of these idiots want to turn into locusts, now these ones want to become nothing. Why can't they just try to become decent people for a chance!"
If there is something you can count Daeran on, it is to deride any form of religious activity. "Yes, but consider the kind of people who become cultists. Greedy idiots, thugs, lunatics… the worst sort of riffraff. Honestly, they are already a bunch of nobodies and now they are being rewarded for their insignificance."
Arueshalae, meek yet brave, damned yet penitent, moved in and looked Nenio in the eye with all her focus. "Areshkagal is the queen of sphinxes. She will never share anything of value for free. She revels in the riddles and artifices of deceit, and those only hold meaning until they are solved. Let's go home Nenio."
It was as if some strings had been cut from Nenio as the influence trying to lead us into the Enigma lost its hold on her. She signed in exasperation, "I fear you are right, 'the absence of an answer is an answer too'? I should know no one was going to give me the secrets of the universe for free. Knowledge is gained through sweat, blood, pain, and experiments!" The kitsune affirmed, returning to her usual peepy yet exasperating self.
"That's more like it! Hey, Areshkagal. You like riddles so much I have a parting gift to you." I declare to the wind as my shadow extends, pushing up a demon sphere-shaped technological device the size of a container.
"Zagreus, what is that?" Asked Panaka with a worried look.
"Something for the sphinx and all her demon lord friends to think about next time they decide to pull a fast one on me." I say as I click on the touchscreen interface, priming this thermonuclear bomb to set off in a minute. Enough power to leave the Tsar bomb out of the dust.
"Okay people, the last flight to I-want-to-live station is departing right now! Raise your hand if you want to live." I say peppily.
They all raised their hands. I grabbed each one with a hand of pneuma and pulled us all
sideway through space and time toward
elsewhere, the backroom-like realm Rher worshipers call Rher dimension. As much as it gales me, it isn't entirely untrue if only for a technicality, by using its 'mothering' power to board the plane with wood planks.
I on the other hand have my monument to Ego, my Dream, comprised of onyx and obsidian-like blocks of stone. So when I do it under my own power, elsewhere is boarded with slabs of stone from my Parthenon. Let me tell you, it is a whole lot better sight than the original version.
The only problem is the nightmare monsters lost in nowhere trying to barge their way inside; I managed to verify with Gojo's help that Nowhere is the place where things lost in holds of paradox logic malfunctioning end up. All these security risks forced me to abandon plans to make a more permanent interconnected roadway and private sanctum. And since it required heavy prep to use as a philosopher, I rarely get any use out of it but it got upgraded when I ascended to the heroic realm.
With luck, carrions will be too busy muscling their way into Areshkagal's territory to meddle in the affairs of the Worldwound until it is dealt with. There is no way I am fighting a proper demon lord inside his domain! If their power boost is anything like mythical power then I would never have beaten Deskari. The sphinx probably wanted to make us an offer we couldn't refuse, too bad for her there is nothing in the Abyss I care to preserve. She can shove all her riddles where the sun doesn't shine!
-//-
Unfortunately, demon lords aren't the only ones with a growing interest in me. I don't know exactly how the gods owe to behave but from what I have seen it feels more like a gentleman's agreement.
Especially when one of them decides to pick a fight with you in broad daylight.
It all started when one Cid Kagenou entered Drezen in the guise of an immigrant. I didn't take notice of him at first as the city was seeing massive flux from aspiring crusaders to colonial settlers and merchants, what I had done was set up precautions against spies, infiltrators, and saboteurs through mundane, technological, and magical means.
Baphomet cultists were everywhere and their public executions just trove this fact home. They gained as much just by instigating paranoia and distrust, a fact they were keen to exploit by falsely framing innocent people. That was how the Second Crusade fell apart, they were not enemies one could beat with a strong sword arm. The only saving grace was that the ten years playing the game of politics and crow diplomacy in Sorcery society had honed me to the point where I could thrive in these waters.
The state of high alert allowed me to get Norgorber, the god of assassins, poisoners, and spies by the tail. I was supervising a meeting between crusader commander Panaka and Mitsugoshi merchant group when the primary barrier sent me a ping about a security breach.
After learning how to program AIs in Numeria I incorporated it into the designs I had deployed way back in Japan. Drezen was a chance for me to outshine Tengen once and for all and update my design, that is why I went all out so another Kenjaku situation wouldn't come to pass. Through the auspicious guidance of Archimedes' Golden Thread, my superlative barrier skills, and Numeria AI technology, I managed to create a self-sustainable intelligent barrier capable of tracking and recording even the smallest of details.
A fact I don't like to brag about is the keen sight derived from Rher's 'blessing'. In the moonlight things not meant for the daylight are revealed. This allowed me to map the geomantic layout of Drezen, and coupled with Greek affinity for stone masonry almost all more important public buildings are powered by the pneuma released by people going about their daily lives and the dragon line grid.
This allows the barrier to track unusual activities in the long term by compiling their pattern like a modern social media app. No matter how efficient something is, there will always be a problem of output. That is why most of the grunt work of surveillance is done by my ravens, Drezen is still a fortified city in a permanent State of Siege until the Worldwound is closed.
The barrier's primary purpose is to track things in the long term and ward off demonic influence, something it excelled at. Just recently it foiled an attempt from Baphomet's high priest to infiltrate the city as a jewelry maker, intending to sell items enchanted by the soul jar spell so demons could circumvent the barrier and Sword of Valor (banner) by possessing residents while trapping their souls, giving them rich hostages.
It would have been a disaster if it came to pass, but I digress. What matters is that this Cid person didn't pass the smell test. Looking back at his record was like watching Gojo and Geto at their goofiest. The guy got beaten up and humiliated in public on purpose, was a kleptomaniac wasting divine-like skill to pickpocket cheap change, and had a failed bard carrier ahead of him as far as acting was concerned.
I was ready to dismiss him out of hand if it wasn't for the casual murder.
The army attracts all sorts, some are just shitheads way over their heads, others are hardened and psychologically scarred, troubled souls to where the battlefield is the only solace, or downright greedy and opportunistic drifters moving through the world like the wind. Regardless, once they had sworn their services to me, they had become my responsibility. Woljif, the tiefling companion of Panaka helped me set up accommodations. It is the nature of men to resort to taking when nature fails to provide, be it in modern metropolises like Tokyo or Dictatorships like Ba Sing Se. You can always find black markets, fighting dens, red-light districts, etc.
While normalizing it is a recipe for disaster, banishing them is a pipe dream. It's better to direct them, allowing them to keep a pulse in the underbelly of the city where demonic influence is most likely to fester and curb the worst excesses these places have.
Thanks to this I managed to profile the mysterious man once he killed Camellia. Should I be happy I got rid of a problem just to get a bigger one? The first person to join Panaka during the crisis following my fight with Deskari, this rich noblewoman is a clinically certified serial killer, ritual murder and macabre collection included. She wasn't even a demon worshiper, just a sick freak who got gratification on the act of murder.
The fact she was easily dispatched despite the mythical powers granted to her through Panaka and the callousness and indifference Cid performed the act did not earn him any points. Not that it surprised me, but the callousness in which he killed petty criminals and looted their bodies for valuables was disturbing.
This one Cid Kagenou held prodigious power but was also an idiot blessed with improbable luck. As someone reviled by the fates, I made a point to incorporate Chaos Theory into my Golden Thread, I know when some bullshit is afoot. More importantly, I know how to grab fate by the hair and drag it kicking and screaming to where I want it to go.
I have studied how Kenjaku managed to camouflage himself and replicated it to create perfect disguises by employing my necromancy. Accruing enough ravens together to equal the mass of a humanoid of my choice, I have my shadow imprinted with the body information harvested from my catalog stored in the Valkyrie Vulture to rise up and cover my raven in liquid darkness, as the shadow folds and melts back to the ground, it leaves a perfect replica behind.
I have become a true skinwalker, coupled with my condition as a pseudo Unkindness-that-walk and I can do the job of an entire intelligence and spy agency on my own. It was pathetically easy for me to exploit those tendencies to set a breadcrumb trail for him to follow and test him. From what I saw Cid wasn't worth the dirt he steps on. The fact he was both stupid and greedy enough to attempt to rob the war coffins of the 5th Crusade was the last straw.
Due to a combination of untamed wills, and cataclysms Golarion economy operates primarily on gold… you know, like any enlightened post-modern society owes to. Fortunately Logic is pulling enough weight to normalize tech devices, allowing me to replace one gold coin for a numerian silver disk, batteries used to power almost all technological devices.
That is why I decided to pull a Midas, tyrant edition. To remind myself that I am a scumbag at heart. Combining the darkest art of bureaucracy, the veiled trickery of Wall Street, and a lot of illusion magic, I pulled a grand trick. I convinced everyone worth knowing I had my own Fort Knox, containing entire crates of gold included, and that one silver disk had equal worth to one gold coin.
Then I proceeded to exploit the reck out of my 3D printer Ooze to create silver disks in bulk, a real-life money glitch. And I needed it too, queen Galfrey has made her displeasure with me know. She resents her reputation as being overshadowed by mine and Panaka's successes. Without Mendev's support, the 5th Crusade might have haunted and lost its momentum.
And now the fact Cid is risking such a thing coming to pass for the sake of his greed put him at the top of my shit list.
He is certainly skillful enough. No mortal man could have overcome the security and obstacles I had set. Not even men when I was one. But it fulfilled its purpose, I was expecting some maverick to try his luck eventually so I built the best magical dungeon I could manage. While good enough to ward off the raddle, its true goal is for me to assess the capacities and limits of the ones crossing said gauntlet.
That is why after Cid finally reached the coffin and started swimming in the illusory Scrooge McDuck gold coin infinity pool, I sprinted into action.
This crusade has done wonders for my homonymous sword. The sword has gotten a taste for mythical creatures and we have been gorging ourselves on them too between Khorramzadeh and his army of mythical demons. Enough for me to figure out Areelu Vorlesh's transformation experiment, I am an old hand in the matter of the soul after all.
This allowed me to thoroughly distill mythical power from demonic quintessence, not only elevating me to new heights of power but also endowing it on my favorite followers. But most interesting is how my growth has chosen to manifest. I had decided to make this sword an extension of myself specialized in destruction and mythical power has only made it better… or is it worse?
Anyways! At the risk of sounding arrogant, I can say with authority I have reached my original goal. I can't see how such a weapon would still be second to the Conqueror's own sword, King's Curse. The poison/curse I mimicked from the Midnight Bolt did metastasize through the augmenting properties of nectar and mythical power from tons' worth of Nahyndrian crystals into an entity of its own. Enough that despite the fact we share the same name it deserves an epithet of its own.
Promised Death.
With the data accrued from Cid's character profile and capabilities, I created a simulated model of him with my Golden Thread. Then I summoned my muse to my side and through her inspiration I untethered myself from the fabric of space-time, skipping time.
Then I easily bypassed the distance between me and where I presumed Cid to be based in my calculations. I return to the world swinging my blade one millimeter from his face to cut him neatly in half while also dispelling all the illusory gold, depriving him of crucial leverage, instrumentalizing his instincts against him.
I also sacrificed thirty years to the flames for good measure to empower my attack with my Star Rage just to be sure, more like a caprice really. According to my calculations, my baseline power augmented by mythical powers should be more than enough to neatly saw Cid in half.
That is why I instantly knew I was in deep shit when Cid still managed to dodge. Mostly.
Instead of making an Apo/llo impression he managed to manifest his divine majesty to escape, instantly revealing he was a God with capital G. Mostly a Go-d really, after I was done with him. Star Rage was a virtuous technique I created with the explicit purpose of countering a divine existence. It's an expression of my uniquely excellence existence, a defiant miracle capable of reaching even the unmoved mover, who lives apart, untouched and unspoken of.
Gods exist in mystery, but even if he was an island in the sun my light can still reach it. And I had just used it to make the god in front me in two-thirds of the god he had been a moment ago. Cutting him from shoulder to thigh, the only reason his heart hadn't been cleaved in two was because he decided to dodge toward the left.
Promised Death lived to its name cleaving divine flesh as if it was adamant wrought. I understand enough about souls to mimic the soul liberation blade by momentarily channeling mythical power, and the blade's hunger can make attacks far more devastating than one would be led to believe. All in all, I can make about four attacks like that until I exhaust my reserve of mythical power. which is a real scenario becomes three in a real scenario.
Yet it seems to be enough.
The god I speculate to be Norgorber, patron of everything rogue-related and keeper of secrets fell gracelessly to the bottom of the safe and splashed like a rotten fruit. He was still alive, for now.
I based my sword's concept on Saber's Excalibur Morgana, a sacred sword of promised victory tainted by all the world's evil. Wounds from Promised Death damage not only the body but also the soul and its poison inflicts the curse of promised death. It inflicts the concept of mortality to even that which was supposed to exist beyond its reach, something that I learned from Deskari. The curse not only withers away its victims but also makes them more susceptible to all necromancy-like effects. As my Star Rage is fundamentally a fusion of Rher and Dyonisus' foundational mysteries, it also qualifies.
The god pushed himself up with one remaining arm, and the hood of opaque blackness fell, revealing the same face Norgorber used for his Cid personal. Is that his real face? Norgorber was credited to have attained divinity through the trial of the Star Stone and then proceeded to erase all records and traces of his mortal lifetime. Yet he prances around Golarion in daylight with his real face? What the hell is this guy? A mysterious deity that stays neutral when dealing with other deities, reveling in their disdain.
I was so distracted that the savage and bloody smile he threw my way completely stomped me out. He looked more like a dying man yet his gaze made me the one vacillating. His eyes bore a blazing heat like the core of a nuclear fire capable of outshining even a hero's flame. Yet it was not his power that made me hesitant but the realization that he was having fun! He was dying and he was having the best time of his life!
He unveiled his divine majesty and it was overwhelming. I intellectually knew that the
presence of oracles, the aura of a woman whose body functioned as a divine vessel could outright kill a mortal man. It is a lesser manifestation of a god's suffocating majesty, only heroes and tyrants, who had themselves transcended the boundary of mortality into semi-divine existences, could tolerate their company.
Even then descriptions did not make it justice. It was a howling darkness and oily blackness like a sea of petroleum, ready to ignite and set the world aflame with the smallest of parks. The sensation of slithering snakes crawling over my skin and the sound of disorienting murmurs addled my senses. It was as profound as it was terrifying… and familiar. Rher had shown me his true face as well, and I knew deep in my heart only Logic's interference had spared me from a destiny worse than death.
I was so distracted I only noticed things were going out of rails after it was far too late. My sword had set its hunger over the severed slice of god we had severed from Norgorber, yet it didn't fight back from being consumed. It gladly surrendered itself for consumption but it did not bend or change and Norgorber's fragment drove home why he was the god of poisoners. His power was like searing heat sweeping through my body, making itself at home by burrowing new channels, reshaping and reordering me in a way I could scarcely follow or comprehend.
I desperately flared my power and burned my heart blood to fight it off but it was like I were a mortal trying to catch the wind with my bare hands. Even the reserve of nectar circling through my body was as good as piss wine against it. That was the gulf between a hero and a god, I managed to leap over it for a glorious single moment through cheer audacity, and ingenuity but cruel reality reassert itself.
But instead of melting me from within it instead strengthened me and as Norgorber- Cid's majesty ingratiated itself with my own vital breath in a terrifyingly permanent way. There were limits to mythical power and he was big enough of a meal for me to reach them, but part of the god's majesty lodged itself in me. Like I was an oracle myself.
Then my hand started to heat up so much Promised Death slipped through nerveless fingers and I saw the mark of Norgorber brand itself to my palm. Marking me, like cattle!
A moment of mute incomprehension was followed by incredulity as a particular morsel of information from the brain collector I faced in Numeria rose to the surface. True gods in Golarion had a unique particularity in common. The power to invest a single follower with a mantle of office: herald, high priest, sentinel, evangelist, and exalted. Those comprise the five fingers of the god-hand of a true divinity in these parts.
"
I finally found you," said the god smiling in triumph. His voice vibrated and was dreadful as if emanating from a malfunctioning megaphone. "
My exalted Omega {The End}!"
I officially have lost the plot. "Why?" I asked and I hated how shaken and fragile my voice sounded.
"A mere whim. I had the hunch this was the best way to hurt you the most. Something in me intuited you and are quite alike in that regard. I am glad I am proved right." Cid gloated even as he laboriously rose to his feet with great difficulty.
He had at some point given up on restoring himself and prioritized halting the poison and mending his vitals, replacing his missing arm and leg for aura constructs. Even then the bored look he held before was nowhere to be seen, he looked smug even.
And why not? He was right after all. This was in some ways far worse than killing me.
I hadn't been this violated since Rher.
My face was a mask as if carved from granite as I picked up Promised Death from the ground. It seems I did not cut Cid down to size enough as it is. Time to correct that, he would look far better without a head between his shoulders.
My pneuma ignited like the birth of a star as I charged Norgorber like a comet, the primordial furry of Dionysus, the mad one, emerging to the surface.
Throughout this, the bastard only smiled in jubilation.
-//-
[AUTHOR'S ROOM]
The first part was some character development and interaction as Zagreus participate to some of WoR most important quests. While he knew the theory around nuclear science from Earth, he only got real practice after Numeria. A 3D printer is super useful for making customizable orders and Zagreus is not above hitting below the bell. He deftly avoided one of the game's hardest encounters yet this caught the attention of the local atomic human enthusiast.
A bit of a curve ball but Not-Aqua had already warned this could happen. Cid got isekaied to Pathfinder instead of his canon generic fantasy world. While he passed the trial of the Star Stone, but in truth he was trying to steal the thing in his quest to become the eminence in shadow, and in a sense his ascension was worse than failure. Cid doesn't believe in borrowed power, after all, that is why he said what he did to Zagreus.
The original Norgorber is so mysterious to the point of being irrelevant, that is why trading him with Cid doesn't affect the canon of PF in any way that matters. He is still the main suspect in Aroden's death, having both motivation and means.
God or not Zagreus is at the level the game physic starts to break. He blew Cid with a supercharged mythical vital strike, delivering thousands of hit points damage in a single critical blow.
He made Zagreus his exalted because he was partly impressed and partly furious with him. This was the closest he came to dying after ascending and by a mere self-made demigod to boot. He was also seething with rage as well. Whether it was because Zagreus bested him or because Cid is a money gremlin and that pile of money was fake, I will let you decided for yourselves.
Zagreus ascended to mythical tier 10. This grants him Legendary Hero (Su), mythical feat (Potent Surge (Mythic)), Mythic Ability – Extra Mythical Feat (Lucky Surge (Mythic)), Surge ability improve to (+1d12), and Visionary Commander (Su).
Remember that some of the Legendary Item abilities basically fuses the mythical power poll with the item's own poll and improve the surge by stage. This means that Zagreus's surge is especially powerful, 1+2d8 and he rolls twice and takes the better result in all rolls as long as he has Promised Death in his person and even adds +2 when using Promised Death to attack or destroy something. This is better than rolling two d20s in any roll he likes and even stacking with the +20 from the display of charisma, constitution, and strength he has.
Legendary Hero restores him one point of mythical power per hour, and marshal capstone ability, Visionary Commander regenerates one point of mythical power if he or one close by ally rolls a critical hit; it also improves everyone's initiative roll and gives extra actions in surprise rounds.
Zagreus also gained the Exalted template. Alas, while we know the nation of Nidal, whose patron is the god Zu-Kuthon, is ruled by the Black Triune comprised of his evangelist, exalted, and sentinel, this aspect of the lore is confusing and contradictory. Only herald got somewhat explored so I am playing by ear here. It would be easier to simple think Zagreus get a bunch of profane abilities and skill bonuses in areas relevant to being an 'Eminence in Shadows' paragon, plus some unique abilities.
