The Apocalypse Grinder (LitRPG Apocalypse, Timeloop)

Chapter 83: Path of the guardian


£%@&!*#

Soul weight sufficient to resist, initiating a soul link between equals…

You have been inflicted with [Tellen Mark of the Guardian Initiate] by [Serenaeth 7]!

Tellen Mark of the Guardian Initiate (Epic): A soul-mark given to a worthy member of an allied species or unique creature to denote them as a candidate to become a Soul Guardian for one of the Tellen Circle. This mark will resonate with other Marks of the Guardian Initiate, as well as denote you as an ally to any member of the Circle you encounter. You are more aligned with nature.

Ronan's anger and confusion at the sudden betrayal of trust faded as he read through the description of the mark. Clearly it was a boon, granting him the ability to have an ally of any of Serenaeth's species and with nature in general.

However, he hadn't agreed to become a soul-guardian or form some sort of link between their souls. That sounded like weighty stuff. Sacrosanct, even.

He couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if his heritage didn't intercede on his behalf and change the link from one between a master and subordinate to one of equals. Would he have been forced to obey the ancient dryad?

"Tell me one thing. If I hadn't had sufficient… soul weight, would you have had the ability to influence my thoughts, actions, or behaviour?" Ronan said, his voice cold and face restrained in a neutral expression.

I apologise if the soul-link was intrusive or caused you undue fear. It is… this system. It distorts the true meaning of the ancient rituals. Twists our language and intentions into something they are not. What it calls a 'master-subordinate' link is a gross mistranslation. In our language, the true meaning would be better described as a bond between parent-watcher-teacher-tellen and student-guardian-conservator. This is an ancient ritual that the Tellen have engaged in with allied species and beings for many eons. Since the first ancestor and her Soul Guardian.

There was a… disruption to the ritual. Your heritage, I assume. I am not sure what the implications of that will be, but the mark seems to be functioning correctly. If possible, I would ask you to return in a few years so that I might observe how it has changed.

Ronan sat with the statement for a while. He trusted that the creature didn't have bad intentions, but clearly there were some major cultural differences. Even if the link was a beneficial one, to directly connect to his soul without permission was a little…

Then again, my heritage protects my memories and personality from being altered. Whether that only applies to the iterations or it's a general protection, I'm not sure. In any case, it seems apologetic about the confusion. Guess I'll see what happens. Being a guardian of an ancient tree sounds pretty neat.

Once Ronan had finished his internal deliberations, he sighed and rubbed his temple. "Don't worry about it. If you meet humans in future, I'd recommend asking before you do the whole 'soul-link' ritual stuff. Others might take offence at it. They might get violent. In any case, this guardian business sounds like a great honour. I appreciate the trust. And believe me, I'm the first person who'll join you in line to punch this damned system for the crapfest it's turned our world into. Even if I do rather enjoy it," he said.

Thank you for your understanding-acceptance, Ronan Steele. A Tellen can have many initiates at one time, but only one Soul Guardian throughout their entire lifetime. Once the bond is formed, it cannot be broken without the death of either party. Once broken, it can never be formed again. You honour the ritual and traditions of the Tellen by taking it seriously. May the light of the lifebringer-goddess-mother-sun guide your path.

"Thank you, Serenaeth," Ronan replied. "Am I supposed to say the seven, by the way? Is Serenaeth a common name or something?"

He heard a deep rumbling in his head. It took him a moment to realise the ancient creature was laughing. A humorous misunderstanding. One that many initiates face. There is only one Serenaeth. The number seven denotes that I am the seventh generation of the Serenaeth line. The Tellen live long lives, as trees are wont to do. However, we do die. The weight of our minds becomes untenable and madness creeps in at the end of the eons of life. Thus, when the time comes, all Tellen produce a seed containing their accumulated knowledge and memories, with the negative parts removed, before giving their lifeforce to give birth to a new Tellen, bearing the same name and ancestry.

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"I see. Or not really. In any case, thank you for the gift and the history lesson. I suppose I should learn about the Tellen if we're going to be sharing a planet from now on. See you soon, Serenaeth," he said with a wave, before turning to leave the forest.

"Nice to meet you, ancient tree dude," Keith added, following after Ronan. When they were out of the dense trees, he turned to Ronan and said, "That was fucking scary! How did you manage to stay so calm? And what did it do to you at the end? You seemed furious."

"It… formed a connection between our souls. I thought, after all the crap we've been through recently, that it was trying to control my mind," Ronan explained.

"Yeah, fuck that." Keith shivered. The man hadn't been awake during the battle, but even the minor illusions of the weaker foxes were a scary experience.

"In the end it turned out to be a pretty good thing for me. And the tree. Serenaeth. Do you remember the message at the beginning of the integration? About terraforming? It said four planets were being merged to form this new place," Ronan said, before pausing and inhaling sharply.

"What if… each of those planets had its own dominant species, perhaps even more than one. The Tellen might just be the first of them we encounter. Let alone the invaders it mentioned coming to conquer the different sectors. This is going to be a fucking mess for our world. I thought taking the pillar might just let us carve out a sanctuary for ourselves, families, and friends, but I think we need to step up. For humanity. I doubt all the other species will be as… affable as the Tellen. Things will get really, really bad before they get better."

The two men fell silent in the wake of Ronan's speech. They'd been fighting and exploring their way through the sector—across many lives in Ronan's case—but never sat down to think that far ahead. To the future. To what this whole integration really meant for their world.

A more worrying thought that Ronan didn't voice out loud, for fear of truly terrifying Keith, was that there was a high possibility that it wouldn't just be the alien species they had to contend with. Given this much power, what horrors will humanity be capable of? Not everyone is a decent person…

He shook the thought from his head. There was no use worrying about things he hadn't encountered. If the time came that he met a real piece of shit, Ronan would just do to them what he'd done to every other obstacle in his path.

He would punch the shit out of them.

They spent the next few days exploring the last 'dark' sections of Ronan's minimap. Keith expressed some confusion as to why Ronan was taking them directly to specific areas, but he managed to fend the guy off by saying something about 'gut feelings.'

Ronan felt the camaraderie between the two of them growing the more they fought the foxes. He was a little concerned at the lack of people in the city. It really seemed as though other than Lord Rockmore and his goons, no one else had returned. Then again, the Tellen counted as someone who'd done the tutorial and come back. He also had to account for the fact that the world was a lot bigger than before. Humans would likely get spread out. Or people might simply be finishing the tutorial a lot slower than he was. The latter was more likely.

It had been four days since their encounter with Serenaeth, and there was now only one area left for them to explore. Ronan had two theories. The first was the simplest: the boss would be in the last unexplored area of the sector. The second would be the more worrying of the two.

The boss' powers of illusion and mental manipulation were even more powerful than Vulparis' had been, and it was concealing its presence from Ronan, Keith, and anyone else who might seek to challenge it.

Ronan was fairly confident, thanks to the increased mental and magic resistance he'd acquired through learn through suffering, but he wasn't sure it would stand up to a creature even stronger than the Trickster. There was only one way to find out.

The last zone turned out to be a gutted-out skyscraper, reaching toward heaven. It was overgrown, with enormous mutated plants having claimed the steel frame as a colossal trellis. "Is that the damned shard?" Ronan muttered in disbelief.

"I think so. It looks a bit twisted and broken, but the shape is similar. It's certainly tall enough. None of the other ruins come close," Keith replied, scratching his stubbly chin.

"I suppose if there was any place in this sector that a boss monster would be, it's here. You ready, big fella?" Ronan said, rubbing his hands together in preparation.

"Not really. Do we have another choice? We can't let the monster take control of the sector… at that point we'd just become prey."

"Good attitude, Keith. You've really grown. It brings a tear to my eye," Ronan quipped, wiping away a non-existent tear.

Keith gently punched his arm. "Wanker. Let's do this. Maybe… if we take the pillar I can find my dad. We can find our families."

Ronan thought about his family. His parents had died when he was young—it was why his grandmother had raised him. She'd also died a few years back. There's Sarah, I suppose. We were never that close, but if there was any time to reconnect, the apocalypse is certainly it. I'll make sure there's a place for her to return to, wherever she is.

With those sentiments at the forefront, the two men walked into the ground floor of the shard, that once-mighty edifice that towered over the London skyline now reduced to the lair of an overgrown fox. It was time to reclaim their city.

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