Chương 235: Chapter 232 - The Witch of San Kingsgrove

Decades ago… Life was good as a Cerulean Crow. At least that was what the younger Cerul believed. Their flock dominated their mountain roost. They ate and pecked anything in the vicinity—and when something actually threatening came? Like a certain large purple thingy that had hopped near Cerul's nest and tried to eat his parents? Then an ancient crow would peek its enormous head out from the clouds and glare at the purple thingy.

The creature croaked in a panic as it leapt away into the distance, a single feather launched, larger than Cerul's parents, chasing the purple hopping thingy across the horizon. Thus, life was good with their protector. Things changed when the world shook and great beams of light appeared. They all heard it, the chiming of meaning and a pull towards the beams of light. All of them entranced by a promise to power. Thousands of crows across the mountain range snapped their heads towards the closest beam of light.

"CAW" A single call from high above snapped every single crow out of it. They turned to their ancient protector—and something impossible happened. For the first time in Cerul's life, their ancient ancestor leapt from the mountain and nearly blotted out the sun, causing everything around to scream in a panic. All of the Cerulean Crows watched in shock, wondering what had caused the change. Cerul's parents looked worried. Though there hadn't been a need.

When their ancient protector came back, no longer did their ancestor look… ancient. It was still larger than any other living creature in the world but its wings had regained its luster. A sparkling blue that outshone the sky. Cerul realized then that their ancient protector had been slowly losing itself to age. But now… It crowed one loud caw that had the entire mountain range listening. They all heard it then, the call of the Trial System.

It promised them that if they followed their ancestor into battle and towards the center land that everything would be theirs. … Despite the clear declaration and the boost in power, their ancient protector wasn't reckless. It took its time to go to the other roosts, negotiate and sometimes simply swept away the the other roosts. During that time, new alien creatures kept appearing. Particularly a group of tiny humanoid creatures that died to miasmic vents or to a stray attack from the adult crows.

They had been dismissed as threats. They had assumed they were all merely at that level of strength. They were wrong. One day, when all of the strongest ancient protectors had gathered under a single mountain a loud voice disturbed them all.

"Finally! Why did all of you hide for so long if you wanted to take The Realm?" Cerul remembered each noise, though it did not know what any of it meant until later. One of the adult crows threw a feather at the tiny thing that had appeared in their territory. The small thing punched through it, shattering the feather like it was a stick, then it leapt high, high into the air—and punched the adult crow out of the sky. That caught the attention of the gathering elders.

The strongest ancient crow, Cerul's ancestor, huffed and threw one of its feathers at the noisy tiny thing. The tiny thing punched the feather and shattered their protector's feather. That silenced the entirety of the gathered hundreds of thousands of Cerulean Crows. The little thing in the air had a look of absolute joy on its face as it stared at its lightly bleeding fist. It was the most disturbing thing Cerul had seen in its entire life." You are strong. I knew it. Now it's my turn."

Perhaps it had been too long since their ancestor had ever had a challenge, perhaps it was arrogance from the power of the system portal pumping through its veins, either way, it was clear that it lacked basic self preservation instincts. The tiny creature took a step forward in the air and warped in front of the ancient crow, in the middle of their discussion, with five other ancient protectors— And the Passive Tyrant punched Cerul's ancestor in the beak.

That image would never leave Cerul's mind ever again, the image of a tiny thing, knocking their ancestor clean off the mountain. The beak that Cerul had seen tear through literally everything and anything it touched—crack open by a tiny-tiny fist. And the monster was overjoyed.

"Hah! You survived! —whoa." The ancient crows all took swipes at the tiny creature, leaping off the perch and ready to fight. Gone was the shock and dismissal, now they had to kill a threat in their midst. Cerul couldn't see anything other than all five of the ancient crows surrounding the tiny thing and making everything else look small. Then the apocalypse for the Cerulean Crows began. Cerul could not see much, just flashes of blue and a torrential hailstorm of deadly feathers tearing up everything in the land.

Occasionally, an enormous fist would imprint on the land, flattening everything that had been in the way. Thousands of the flock died in that initial clash. The ancient protectors could not hold back against this foe and the Passive Tyrant was having the time of her life. It was all the adults could do to try to ferry the young ones out of the death zone. The adults of Cerul's flock were flying in a circular formation, spinning around and creating a linked defensive barrier between them and the children.

Cerul remembered how his parents cried out in pain as the vibrations from the battle rattled their bones. Not once did they try to minimize the damage on themselves by tucking their wings in. But it wasn't enough, a stray feather from an ancestor could still pierce through the barrier. Cerul remembered how one by one, the adults and its friends started to die. Seemingly at random with no logic at all, just death. In the distance was another flock, flying in formation.

A stray pressure of what looked like a massive fist shattered the barrier and flattened all of the adults and children whole. The Passive Tyrant grimaced, and tried to talke sense into the ancient crows.

"Hey! Timeout! Let's take this somewhere else!" But the ancient crows were not listening, nor did they understand. They themselves started to fly in formation. One of their ancient protectors had died, they had known each other for a long time and were both furious and mourning. This was an enemy and they had to kill it. They could never be safe while it was alive. The magical formation drew the miasma into the air, thick gouts of mutated mana that they had learned to master over time.

A magical spell formation that threatened to destroy everything. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. For the murder of crows would never forgive, nor would they ever forget. The Passive Tyrant saw the thing in the air and smiled, no longer caring about collateral damage either. The monster's small right hand tore into the air, like she was trying to rip and grab at the heart of reality itself. The space around her hand began to warp and the air blurred as she readied her Legend.

She might have had the capability to disrupt the spell in time, but she didn't do that. The Passive Tyrant bared her teeth, a sinister look that Cerul would later realize was a wide smile. She was enjoying this, this moment of life and death. That uncertainty where you threw everything and you weren't sure you were going to survive. She lived for that thrill. Cerul's ancestor broke the formation of four circling crows and moved to the center of the formation.

It took in the condensed red miasma and superimposed it on itself. An enormous terrifying red crow with a small blue center. It blotted out the sun. It gave one keening cry across all of the land, lifting its presence as the ruler of these lands. Condensing the form further. The blue core of Cerul's ancestor turned into purple surrounded by red miasma. Absolute destruction. The Passive Tyrant's grin widened.

At the moment of impact, she released her own Legend, her clawed hand moving up and— [M A N T L E R I P P E R] All Cerul saw was a wall appear in the sky, its vision obscured by what might as well having been the land turned upside down. Which was close to what had actually happened. All the crows in the surrounding area were knocked out of their flight, some instantly killed by flying debris while others buried alive. Cerul's parents broke formation to cast one final spell. To throw Cerul as far as they could.

And then everything went dark. … Cerul did not know how long it stayed in the dark. He wasn't even sure if he was still alive. Then he felt the ground shift and started to screech out in helpless desperation.

"Hey! Found another one, aww poor birdy." Cerul's veins went cold, it went silent but it had no ability to mask itself. When the dirt moved away and the first thing it saw was another one of the legged small things it squawked in fear.

"Hey, hey it's okay. See? Let me fix your wing." There were a couple other young crows around her, none that Cerul recognized. This wasn't the monster that had killed his flock, just a creature that was just like it. Cerul tried to pierce her neck with its beak. It hurt its beak on a barrier instead.

"Hey! Don't nip at me. It's not my fault that auntie Ayla–the Passive Tyrant can be so reckless. Here let me help." Cerul screamed in alarm at the mana that touched its body.

"Damn, you're sensitive. Fine, you know what? Take this." The similar bipedal creature with slightly pointy ears uncorked a bottle and rolled it on the ground, its contents being telekinetically raised into the air. Cerul could tell that something potent was in it but couldn't resist. The red liquid settled on his body and Cerul screamed in fear again but couldn't fly away due to its broken wing. It blinked as it realized it started to mend. The two legged creature looked up in the air.

"Shut up mom, I told you to stop swapping out my healing potions for regeneration ones. You think I didn't notice? Well, this is what you get!" Cerul had no idea what this crazy creature was saying. With the rest of its shattered body healed he could finally fly, high, high above the ground. He fled from the creature before it decided to make Cerul its snack. The elation from being healed and flying in the sky disappearing just as quickly as it came. Their roost was gone.

The land was unrecognizable with a deep fissure splitting the entire mountain range. Cerul could not see the bottom of the miasma filled chasm. Then it saw the dead ancestors. Three enormous ancient crows with miles of wingspan dead. The Passive Tyrant, satisfied, bleeding and sitting next to half of the biggest crow of them all. Cerul's ancestor. The Passive Tyrant was roasting a part of the wing of the greatest Cerulean Crow to have ever flown.

And Cerul was flying alone in a sky that used to hold hundreds of its brethren at any time. Everyone else that had survived had seen the scene and fled. Too young, Cerul did not know what to think, or what to do. It just dropped to the ground, and idly started digging away, hoping that it could unearth more of its kind. Dig. Dig. it felt something hard in the dirt. Dig dig. A broken beak. Attached to a shattered skull. Dig dig. Dig dig.

"Okay, that's just kind of depressing. Get out of here shoo! Shoo!" Cerul squawked in surprise and fear at the [Mage] that had appeared next to it. It tried to peck her—hurt its beak on her barrier again and then looked accusatorily at her.

"Don't look at me like that. Damnit [Sympathetic Words]." And suddenly Cerul understood the emotions behind the [Mage's] words.

"Shoo-shoo, fly straight that way. This area isn't going to be safe anymore, there's too many carcasses that are going to attract scavengers once the Passive Tyrant leaves." Cerul understood more now, safety beyond, dangers here. The hatchling Cerulean Crow looked one last time back at the land that used to be good. The mountain was gone, the land was gone, the ancient crows were all gone. It stared hatefully at the monster that was feeding on their ancestor.

The monster lifted its head from feasting on the carcass and looked at the baby crow curiously, then dismissed it with a hand. Her voice echoing out.

"Come back and find me when you're stronger." The [Mage] bonked Cerul on the head. The crow squawked in panic and betrayal until it realized it was a friendly nip like its parents used to do.

"If you want revenge, you're going to have to do a lot of growing up. Steal some system portals, find how adventurers work and be stronger than your ancestor… even then…"

"Hey Gamielle! Sorry about the mess! Come over!" The Passive Tyrant waved at the [Mage] and Cerul glared at her. As if she had somehow betrayed it by knowing the monster over there. Gamielle sighed at the baby bird.

"I wouldn't bother. Live a good life little crow, if you still want revenge then go find out how strong adventurers are, then remember this: The Passive Tyrant is stronger than them all put together." With those words, Cerul was thrown into the distance, remembering the weird alien that had devastated its home, nothing would be the same after that. It took a long journey traveling in a single direction, nearly dying multiple times. Neither the sky nor the land was safe for a young crow.

It learned to be cowardly and hide. While hiding, it watched adventurers fighting other creatures, hunting them down for their hide and stuff. On the occasion it got caught, it played cute and pitiful. Like a hatchling that had lost its parents. It worked more often than not. Throughout its journey, Cerul learned two things. It was the age of adventurers. And the Passive Tyrant stood above them all.

Battered, destroyed, most of its feathers lost because he didn't know how to use magical feather attacks and had to use his real ones. Cerul had long since given up on the idea of revenge. He was smart, he understood that even if Cerul took multiple portals the adventurers would form a raiding party and hunt you down. It was better to just… live an easy life. Like Gamielle had said. So it just did that, it found a leveled zone, and harassed the occasional adventurer. Then it bullied the monsters around it.

It had been mostly fine living an ordinary life. That was until one day, an obnoxious aura of fear disturbed its nest on a hill. And he met his [Mage] savior once again. —— A few days after Cerul had taken his second System portal. Pinkie was currently watching one of the most bizarre interactions she'd ever witnessed.

"Unhand me you vile cretin!"

"Oh come on, just take the portal, you know you want to. I'll hold back, one arm only."

"You promised that the last time. I will not fall for it like your other victim, you unsightly wretch."

"It tried to kill me first!"

"Because you kept bothering it!"

"I'll get you two more portals after this if we fight!" The Passive Tyrant had dragged out one of the more powerful 'Rogue Spirits' from Sector Twelve and was trying to feed it a second system portal. A portal that had appeared from a corpse of another creature that she had dragged along and fed a system portal. Then she accidentally killed it. For someone that despised killing the weak… Pinkie noted that the Passive Tyrant seemed to do it quite often.

At first Pinkie thought the lack of care and hypocrisy was part of being strong… now she had changed her mind. She knew the answer as to why the Passive Tyrant disliked killing those weaker than her. In fact, everything was ready. The Passive Tyrant had even promised to make sure that the Witch Tyrant wouldn't interfere with her transformation. Then why was Pinkie waiting? A twelve foot tall birdman made of stories and faith kicked at the Passive Tyrant, refusing to accept the portal.

That was also something Pinkie had no idea could happen: a monster could refuse to take a portal, nobody could make you take one.

"You wormbrained Alzecoke of a fiend. You deceive yourself and use that to deceive others, did you think I would be a simpleton? I offer no challenge. Slay me if you must." Pinkie had no idea what an Alzecoke was, but she did know one thing. This powerful rogue spirit was smart. After being tricked and nearly punched to death the first time, it had quickly deduced the Passive Tyrant's nature and had promptly found the best course of action to guarantee its survival. Surrender.

The Passive Tyrant disliked killing opponents that provided no challenge. She huffed and finally let the rogue spirit go. The weird half bird, half man thing hurrying in the opposite direction of Sector Thirteen. Likely in an attempt to find somewhere else where it could not be disturbed by the battle maniac. Pinkie did note that the rogue spirit was going in the direction of Sector Eight. But that wasn't her problem. The Passive Tyrant crossed her arms in annoyance.

"Stupid Trial System, where are all the strong monsters?" Every single rogue spirit and guardian deity were definitely strong enough to be considered a raidboss for dragonslayers. It was just that the Passive Tyrant had completely outpaced whatever the Trial System had readied as a challenge for realm thirteen Trialists. And she was staring at the ground where Pinkie was hiding in her snake transformation.

"You're ready, right?" The Passive Tyrant's instincts probably told her Pinkie was ready. It might have been why she was so forceful with the other monsters lately. The Passive Tyrant had changed her mind and was now expecting a good fight. Pinkie just wasn't sure she was going to survive the Passive Tyrant being so excited.