Wish Upon the Stars 7: A Cultivation LitRPG Adventure by Malcolm Tent

Author:Malcolm Tent [Tent, Malcolm]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Timeless Wind Publishing
Published: 2025-02-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The being that climbed from the coffin was… wrong. Not a lich—I’d seen one of those before. This thing was corrupted on a fundamental level, to the point where even its Impact felt like a distortion. And it had Impact—a lot of it. Maybe not as much as Crighton, but way more than any of us.

“Sacrifices,” it cooed. “Always so curious.” The voice held a hint of mockery, and I could tell why. I hadn’t seen many situations where the word sacrifice was a good thing.

I shrugged. I was kind of hoping this guy predated the concept of monologuing and wouldn’t be too careful about what he spilled. “If you’re planning to kill us anyway, might as well answer the questions. If we’re dead, we can hardly spread it around.”

My tone was light, but I felt a growing sense of dread. All this Moon Lady stuff was bothering me. The things I’d noticed about the dungeon and how deliberate it seemed. Something here was off, and I had the sneaking suspicion it would kill us if we didn’t find out what it was. This dungeon wasn’t what everyone thought it was, and with my luck I was pretty sure I’d gotten sucked into the endgame of whatever was happening.

“Foolishness does not become wisdom in death.” It clucked. “But very well. Amusement, then. If only for a short while. Ask your questions, sacrifice. Though know too that your suffering will not be abated. Merely postponed.”

I grimaced. At least this thing really loved to talk. “What are you exactly? And are you a servant of Suvaya? I⁠—”

The undead stomped once, the floor cracking as we as stumbled to get our bearings. “Heretics!” it howled. “Speak not the Lady’s name! Find Her magnificence squirming twixt your unworthy lips again and I’ll rip them from your faces to sew myself a coat!” We all stared for a minute, and it stared back before hissing, seeming to calm down for a bit. “Very well. I am undead. As for my specific provenance, that is irrelevant. Simply know I was a great power who allowed myself to be diminished in service to my Lady.”

I didn’t even realize that was possible. I mean, I did, but you could only do that if you didn’t have too many stats. Unless… I considered what Zeke had said, about being able to diminish Impact safely if you hadn’t exceeded the stat threshold. You could have stats taken too. So maybe… “Did she strip all your stats away? Before… diminishing you?” What would that even be like? Valk said even losing a few was horrible.

The undead cackled. “A necessary toll. Millions of points of me, ripped away, dripping my soul out. Once they were gone, I was primed to be the fuel for her ruse. Not alone, no, there are others. Other servants. We give the weight of our existence to fatten Her prey. She waits for the harvest, to recoup from them all we have given and more. Enough to make us all as She is.

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