Nero expected that to prepare the Vitracil for absorption, Vanessa would use various cards and activate the silver metal somehow, maybe putting it in an active state. Maybe it required some kind of ritual, or perhaps a very specific card with a very specific purpose.
The reality was a lot more mundane than his imagination, though. Vanessa took out her daggers and placed one on the crystal like a chisel, and used the pommel of the second as a hammer.
She chipped away at the crystal, forming a spike with the thin streak of Vitracil right in the center, almost making it look like an injection. The exertion increased her heart rate, putting pressure on the effects of Semi Aquatic, yet there was naught that she could do about it.
In truth, the process required a lot more precision than appeared, and she had to be extraordinarily careful. What she hadn’t told Nero was that Vitracil was actually a Sage level ingredient, and was rare to the point of basically being extinct. That was because it was only found in Perilith, and was effectively impossible to store once it left the crystal casing. Without any means to enter Perilith regularly, there were no stores of Vitracil life. To make matters more sensitive, if too much Vitracil was exposed from the crystal, it would prompt a reaction from the liquid around them, causing the Vitracil to be used up. The loss of even a gram of this rare resource would be an unimaginable loss, so Vanessa was a lot more comfortable partially suffocating herself than putting the Vitracil at risk.
After creating the first small spike, she swam to the other side of the crystal and repeated the slow and agonizingly tense process. She did not rush, nor did she use excessive force. Vanessa displayed the full depth of her patience in that moment, as if what she was doing was no more significant than anything else she had ever done.
Though Nero had nothing to do, he did not lower his guard for a single moment, ready to protect her should any trouble arise. Yet everything remained serene, as if there was no trouble to be found in the depths of this ancient structure.
At last, after what seemed like an eternity, Vanessa sculpted the second spike, and turned to Nero, raising her thumb.
Nero immediately used Luminalink, bringing the both of them into his illusionscape.
"Break the tip of the spike and immediately stab your hand into it," Vanessa said, getting right to the crux of the matter. "The Vitracil needs to enter your blood. If you feel hesitant about it, you can wait for me to do it first."
"If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost say you want me to let you go first," Nero said with a smirk. This was not the first time she had told him she could go first if he doubted her.
"And what of it?" Vanessa asked, not even trying to deny it. "That silver metal is extremely valuable. If I can get even a drop extra, I’ll take it. Now, let’s get to it. It’s best not to display."
For one who had been so patient mere moments ago, Vanessa’s impatience was palpable. The illusionscape faded, and Vanessa positioned herself in front of a spike, made eye contact with Nero, and gave him a nod.
There was no hesitation in her afterwards, nor did she actually look to see if Nero waited. It made sense for someone as suspicious as him to check to see if she really did as she said, and if the effects were exactly as she stated. To take no precautions would be to put an immense amount of trust not only in the fact that she meant him no harm, but also in the fact that her knowledge was correct.
The thought had certainly crossed Nero’s mind to wait. To say that he had no doubts would be incorrect. Despite how close they had become, to trust without hesitation was a privilege he gave only to his family. Yet Nero consciously made a decision to not act on his doubts. He decided, despite his usual instincts, to take that risk. He stabbed his hand at the exact same time as Vanessa.
The spike was not large. When Nero stabbed his hand with it, it did not exit from the back, nor did it get stuck on his bone. Yet the Vitracil was directly exposed to his blood, causing an aetheric reaction.
Nero’s body, or to be more specific the aether within his body, escaped his control. It began to bubble as it greedily sucked the Vitracil into his body, making the metal flow as if it were a runny liquid.
Azure flames erupted around his body, raging as the Vitracil raced into his blood, changing him from his very core. Nero did not have the presence of mind to be concerned about the flames, or the fact that it might freeze the liquid around him and Vanessa, for he too had been consumed by the metal.
One would think that a remodeling of his body would cause him immense pain. Usually, one would not be wrong. Heck, his experience in Lumina followed that exact logic. Now, though, Nero’s entire being was consumed by an overwhelming pleasure that enthralled his mind.
It did not come in waves, no. It was one, constant torrent of pleasure as aether washed every pore, every muscle, every fiber in his body, transforming it. There were no impurities leaving his body, for anything impure was directly being transformed, right inside his body!
Such immense pleasure could cripple any with a will not strong enough, leaving them a husk of their former selves, consumed by an endless desire to once again experience that pleasure. It only made sense. How could a Sage level ingredient be easy to consume, even if being done magically?
Much like Nero, who was wrapped in flames, Vanessa was wrapped in shadows as the baptism of her body caused her a mindshattering pleasure the likes of which no mortal mind could imagine.
This was something a non-aetheric entity was never designed to be able to withstand. At least Nero was an Initiate, making his mind stronger and more resilient. Vanessa was still a Neophyte.
Admittedly, the effect of Vitracil on her would be greater. So too would be the burden of recovering from such pleasure.
It was as if the universe’s most potent drug was being pumped into their bodies, with the promise that they’d never be able to experience it again.
The mere withdrawal of the absence of such pleasure could destroy minds. Physically, aetherically, the two of them were approaching a peak they had never touched before. Mentally, whether there would be anything left of them at all, was a question only time could answer.
Naturally, then, neither of them noticed that the chandelier hanging above them started to shine, as thin blue flames flickered to life on the candle wicks. Lanterns hanging in the corridors around them, too, became ablaze with blue fire - so eerily similar to Nero’s, and yet filled with a ferocious rage he could never hope to mimic.
Above them, outside the hole through which they had entered, the rest of their party waited patiently, recovering still with each passing moment. Though Nero had previously taken care of the undead in that room, there was no promise that more terrors could not arise.
Bael was the first to notice something was amiss. It was the lightest of sounds - a single step, so light that a whisper would be louder. Yet he heard it, nevertheless. He stood up straight, weapon in hand, just in time to hear the next sound. This was one much louder.
BANG!
A mausoleum door was kicked open, and an armoured skeleton stepped forward, deep blue flames burning in his eyes. The aura of an Initiate was radiating off his body, suppressing the whole group.
In the face of an inevitable death, they all stood up and raised their weapons. There was no point in doubting it. If there was only one of the skeletons, through teamwork they would have managed despite their weaker realm. If only there had been one.
Ten, a hundred, then hundreds, maybe even thousands of skeletons erupted from their chambers, each of them armored, each of them radiating a different kind of chill than the one Nero’s flames caused.
A step. Then another, and another. The army of skeletons closed in on the group, the sound of their footsteps like the beat of a drum, declaring the end of their lives.
In those final moments, not a one of them showed regret on their face. Maybe, in their hearts, there was regret. Maybe, in their hearts, they were unresigned. But in their expressions, and their actions, they were Kolari, one and all.
Their weapons pointed forward, as their backs pointed to one another. Even if death had come to their doorsteps, it would have to snatch life off their very bones. They would not go easily.
BOOM!
The undead marched towards them.
BOOM!