Flying in pitch black darkness was unpleasant. Especially when Gehrman was above the patches of pitch black water that sporadically appeared in the Antarctic Ocean (or was it the Pacific…or the Atlantic? Where did one begin and the other end?).
In any case, now that Antarctica had settled into night, it would remain that way for six months. For anyone else this would be exceptionally dreadful news, but Gehrman very rarely relied on sight in combat.
As if on cue his body halted mid air.
Stinging pain and throbbing bone nearly caused him to curse as he forcefully canceled all of his momentum, taking an absurd amount of whiplash as punishment. Not the worst pain by any means, but it still caught him off guard every now and then.
Or perhaps it was the association with what followed that made it so unpleasant.
At that moment, exactly where Gehrman would have been, was a humongous piece of iridescent bone. Glowing and otherworldly algae infested what appeared to be a titanic rib of a long dead leviathan.
Gehrman made a tsk sound and cursed.
"My first Corrupted Tyrant…and I won't be able to use its corpse for shit."
Indeed what appeared to be a strange infestation of lesser Nightmare Creatures was actually a singular cohesive scourge.
The Glowing Algae suddenly surged with light and shards of bone broke off of the building-sized rib, breaking the sound barrier as they curved toward Gehrman with malice.
But neither made direct contact.
Gehrman had long anticipated this sort of attack. And even the sneaky follow up from above and below were unable to pin him down.
Swirling shards of shining bone torpedoed around him, but never made contact.
Tyrants…were not as tough anymore.
Not because his own strength had increased so much (his power had only barely increased so far) but because he was starting to get a feel for the intelligence Nightmare Creatures would possess.
It was well-known that after becoming a Tyrant Nightmare Creatures would gain a perverse, yet frightening awareness of themselves, their surroundings, and those serving under them.
When it came to combat and strategy, they were in no way inferior to a human.
Of course, Gehrman was hardly a human anymore.
A Beast had roughly a few dozen permutations of possible attacks, Monsters about 100, Demons around 500, and Devils 1,000. Then there were Tyrants who generally had at least 10,000 options when it came to offensive attacks.
But depending on their form that number could be drastically reduced. A Nightmare Creature's size and shape didn't just reveal their strengths and weaknesses, it could also be used to infer their tendencies.
This Glowing Algae for example, had a unique, but not unheard of nature. Mimicking a vast amount of lower life forms it had an seemingly endless amount of possibilities when it came to killing its prey.
But this led to an odd tendency, these Tyrants often relied on overwhelming the opponent with a great number of attacks. Showing off its size and scale to strike fear and hopelessness in its prey.
Gehrman's eyes took a wild look and the rings of yellowish-orange madness started to multiply.
Summoning the 7th, unknown Madness had started to become more familiar, though he still had no idea what it was. Despite that though, it had proved incredibly reliable. Against Nightmare Creatures of higher Class, it seemed to activate something primordial inside them.
It was not a rage nor frenzy that consumed them, but ceasing of certain thought.
If only for a moment, that Tyrant felt like the Beast it once was.
And that regression triggered something profound inside of it.
But while the Glowing Algae processed this unfathomable sensation, half of its rib-host was blasted away. Waves exploded outward as Gehrman's attack sent a harrowing crack through the old bone.
Gehrman flinched as a strange silence engulfed him. There were no screams from the algae-Tyrant, but somehow its flickering light portrayed something far more pure and terrifying.
"Still a Tyrant…still gonna take a while."
Gehrman did some quick math in his head as rocketed upward into the sky, gigantic bloody wings flaring and pushing him up with such force the ocean rippled below. "It will probably take 10 hours to kill it…" he muttered as he calculated the trajectory of the hundreds of new projectiles flying at him.
"Tsk. This is why this place pisses me off. Even if I can kill this thing it's not in the direct path of the convoy. Staying here is too risky."
Dozens of blood-projected Trick Weapons manifested and threw themselves at the spears of glowing bone. The momentum and mechanics of the weapon make up for the Rank difference in the weapons only barely. If the spears had been closer to the main host and still held full power, it would have been a different story.
"Actually, if these bone shards get so much weaker the farther away they get…I could probably sever them from the host cleanly…and bring back a souvenir."
…
Master Sean felt The Red Judge before he saw him. The bloodied man always came back with the stench of dead Nightmare Creatures. And with his affinity for direction, his enhanced senses could never miss his approach.
This time though, he shivered at the humongous thing he pulled behind him.
Strapped in a crimson make-shift satchel was a cacophony of rattling bone shards, all covered in a dim…something. That was most certainly dead.
And since these ships could be considered small towns in their own right, the fact that a remnant of The Red Judges battle could even be scaled with their transport was frightening.
"I heard he's an alien, one of the Government Awakened said something like that," a gentle voice caused Sean to quickly turn in battle position. But of course, it was just Skif, his fellow Nightwalker on this voyage.
Sean frowned at his companions' words.
"Have you seen how he acts? The way his face is all twisted and his body scarred? It may not be obvious for those living under him. But to me, it's pretty clear that the majority of what that guy does is an act. He's building a myth around himself."
"Pretty standard for a Government Awakened, no?" Skif lazily walked past Sean to lean on the bow of the ship.
"The Government pushes the propaganda, not the Awakened themself. You think Changing Star and her lot came up with that narrative of the "flame that never dies" by themselves?"
Sean grumbled and his face soured.
"He's different though. The stories around him are scattered, but haunting. He's not building himself to be a beacon of hope, more like an incarnation of resentment."
"Oooh, fancy yourself a poet now?" Skif teased. "What are you getting so upset about, you think he's up to something sneaky?"
Sean straightened and blinked.
Was that what I was thinking?
He brought his hand to his face and pinched his brow.
"...No, I'm just afraid of him is all."
"Yeah, you, Saint Bloodwave, and the rest of the council probably," Skif said dryly.
"You go too far, Skif," Sean's voice cooled and his posture turned sturdier.
"I really don't though…" Skif let out a sigh. "Every Legacy is shaking in their boots thinking about that guy. This isn't just a generational talent we're talking about here. He's an impossibility, something that shouldn't even exist. And to top it all off he's playing president of some random ass charity in the Outskirts and becoming a factory tycoon."
Sean opened his mouth to retort but no words came out.
Seeing this Skif let out a gentle chuckle.
"Yeah, we're all scared of him. Not because he's some incarnation of resentment, but because we can't label the damn guy. All that propaganda that the civilians have gotten drowned in has now been thrown onto us too. And for once we don't get to peek behind the curtain."
Sean frowned.
"What are you trying to say?"
Skif's eyes lazily trailed over him and he smirked before pushing off the boat's edge and sauntering off.
"I'm trying to say that if not even the Saints of our clan know what's going on with that guy then we are wasting brain power even considering his actions."
Silence coated the bow of the ship.
Then a sonic boom cut through the air, causing their hair to fly backwards.
Both of the Nightwalker's gazes turned toward the ship housing the Engineers. The package was dropped, 5 Transcendent Soul Shards and the old bone cut into strips.
The Red Judge was gone, off on his next hunt.
…
On the horizon – or what was most likely the horizon – Gehrman could feel a landmass approaching.
This was now the 2nd week of this journey and they had been dodging landmasses all throughout. What was once the highest peaks of this land were now mere islands peeking out of the ominous sea of Western Antarctica.
But the terrain that Gehrman saw (or rather, what he felt) was different. Though still rocky, there was a distinct difference to what he saw now.
"Ah, I guess that's it then."
Gehrman continued his low flight, and only a minute after crossing overland he saw it: a massive siege capital situated on the backside of a huge mountain range.
This was South America, the last remnants of the Western World.
His eyes narrowed.
Due to his low altitude, he could not actually look over the mountains, but he stopped midair and stared forward, as if looking through them.
On the other side was sure to be numerous Corrupted and Great Nightmare Creatures.
And in North America, a corrupted god had made its nest.
After staring for a good long while he ceased control over his blood, allowing himself to start plummeting downward.
Probably not a good idea to aggravate them just yet…but man, what a bountiful harvest they would bring. I could make a city out of a god's corpse. Now that will be the day…
…
The evacuation effort was odd to say the least. This siege capital was more a home of research than anything else. Studying from horrors of the American Nightmare Creatures from the safest distance possible and trying to fathom their power, while also seeking insight into the Spell and Awakened in general.
But now they were being forced to move.
Though their fortifications would likely be able to hold up, it was highly unlikely they would be able to receive any contact or supplies from the other side of the world after the Chain of Nightmares was done. Not to mention the potential horrors that could pour over from Antarctica and catch them from the wrong side of the mountain.
But still, uprooting this city would not be smooth.
Humans were tenacious and stubborn little shits after all.
"Gehrman," Bloodwave's deep voice interrupted his thoughts.
He turned to the Saint with a neutral expression. This whole thing wasn't a part of his mission at all, he was merely here because he needed a place with solid connection in order to send the bigger bulk messages of everything he had encountered to the Government HQ.
"Yes?" he responded tersely.
"The Chain of Nightmares will be getting worse soon."
Gehrman swiveled in his chair to consider the Saint with a raised brow.
"We were told that it would, what's your point?"
"Things are not going smoothly in Central Antarctica. Though there have been no major disasters. The First Evacuation Army is already at its limit. From what I hear, the First Irregular Company is the only thing that has kept multiple siege capitals from getting taken off the map."
Gehrman's eyes narrowed and he tried to pinpoint the emotion that had darkened Bloodwaves face. Something akin to anxiety perhaps? Surely the Saint did not expect anything better from this cobbled together force.
"Are you afraid for the Nightwalkers you've left in Central America?" Gehrman asked.
The smooth features of the white haired man remained stone, but his aura shifted subtly. Indicating Gehrman's conclusion had been accurate.
"You have been holding back," Bloodwave said with certainty, catching Gehrman off guard. "Cor told me that when your back is up against the wall you will sacrifice sanity for victory. But even after these past two weeks I never once saw you really come close to losing your composure."
Before Gehrman could respond Bloodwave brought out what looked to be a snowglobe in the shape of a pyramid. A miniature ocean crashed against its sides and tiny shooting stars crossed the lines of edges of the pyramid. They each moved in a very specific way,
With a start he realized that the movement of the stars and their speed indicated a certain direction.
"My nephew, Naeve, has the corresponding piece of this Memory. It is vital he survives. It is more important than my own life," Saint Bloodwave's eyes seemed to churn like the winds of a hurricane. "Take this, and forsake your sanity until you come upon him. Tear through Central Antarctica and kill any Corrupted you find. My…that young man can take care of a Fallen Tyrant if he has too, but any Terrors or Titans you come across need to be put in the ground."
Gehrman's heart skipped a beat as he recalled Cassie's letter.
A Titan that was like a walking mountain. A hidden Terror with powerful mental attacks.
But at the same time…this was an incredible blessing.
He had needed this excuse in the first place, really. The benefits of going on a blind rampage were too great to ignore. Gehrman's accumulation of Blood Fragments would skyrocket if he removed the self-placed limiters he had followed for over a year. And though he encountered some rough Nightmare Creatures on the way here, he had no doubt that Bloodwave could navigate around or take care of any he had come across.
Not to mention the Saint would now have a map far more detailed than his own routes had been. Though it would grow outdated, Gehrman could very easily deal with many of the things that could pose even a slight threat if he fully succumbed to blood lust.
That damn Glowing Algae from earlier could be gone in 30 minutes instead of 10 hours if he really didn't care about losing a few ribs or limbs in the process.
There was just one tiny thing holding him back…
"My engineers," Gehrman said in a deep voice. "I will allow you to place any House of Night members higher in priority during an emergency, but they come second. I don't care if the rest of the convoy dies."
For the first time Bloodwave's stalwart demeanor cracked.
"...they will all survive," he said eventually. It was clear he was a bit shaken at The Red Judge's callousness, but at the same time he could judge. He was doing the same thing, after all. Placing the importance of his family above his mission.
Antarctica was already bringing out the worst in people, it seemed.
"I trust you, Bloodwave. You seem a good man." Gehrman tipped his hat to the Saint. It was the most respect he had given another human since meeting with the Legacy Royals.
"Against all logic…I believe I can say the same to you," Bloodwave crossed his arms, and a smile played on his lips. "I'll take care of things here. Go tear a war path, Red Judge."