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Unbound Familiar

An avid gamer nerd's dreams come true in another brutal yet lucky? fashion. Follow him as he does his best not to die in laughably humiliating ways, all while trying to escape his abrupt and unwanted servitude. Will his knowledge of the world he finds himself help him succeed? Will he return home? Will evolve past his title of 'Dog'? Read and find out! This will be another multiversal world-hopping story, similar to my other one, EBW. I'll not spoil the surprise of the first world, but Skyrim will eventually be involved... And no, I'll not be adhering to plot, instead destroying it and hopefully not butchering the original story in the process. Feel free to join my Discord : https://discord.gg/EJxRKkwtDm Also, if you enjoy my stories, want to read ahead, and or support me. Take a look at my Patreon : https://www.p.atreon.com/Nagross Also, I've 'borrowed' the picture from : greenmapple17, on Deviant Art.

Niggross · ゲーム
レビュー数が足りません
713 Chs

The Floating Isles of Providence

In other parts of the realm similar events were occurring, large island-sized masses of stone, earth, and other materials rose high into the sky along with the hill.

They continued to rise, and eventually, the black clouds open up to allow the floating islands higher. Due to clouds being made with the concept of death, any living person who touched them would almost instantly die, forcing Michael to create pathways through them.

Soon enough the hill rose above the clouds, leaving the darkness and entering the light of the sun. There, those fortunate enough to survive the earlier catastrophes were greeted by the sight of tens of thousands of large islands rising over the sea of black

This is the vision Michael intended... Islands that only floated under his power over sheer death. Heaven and Hell.

"M-my Lord, Clavicus VIle... What-" a woman starts only to be interrupted.

"Mikhail Vile." Michael instantly reacts, not wishing to have any relation to the former Daedra Prince other than the fact that he'd killed him.

"M-Mikhail Vile?"

"Clavicus Vile is dead at my hands, The Fields of Regret follow... This is my realm now." he emotionlessly states, his eyes looking over the horizon as the parts of his realm out of his physical vision begin the same changes.

"B-but... We're trapped here, on this hill..."

Michael focuses on the woman, his gaze causing her to freeze stiff, "Those who deserve life may go where they want."

...

The people shuffle uncomfortably as they look at each other as if daring someone to ask another question.

Ostiicus, the Dremora slowly gets to his feet and walks to the edge of the hill, "I-... I DESERVE LIFE MORE THAN ANY OF THESE MORTALS!" he announces, taking a step off of the edge... And somehow managing to walk on thin air...

"H-how!?" one woman shrieks, "He wished to take over Tamriel my Lord! How is he worthy of living!?"

"Ambition is no sin." Michael emotionlessly remarks before his body starts disintegrating, fading away as he turns his attention elsewhere.

With nothing better to do, the survivors begin exploring the 'The Floating Isles of Providence', as they'd decided to name it. The realm no longer matches 'The Fields of Regret'.

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Michael allowed his mind to float in the void of Oblivion, his earlier interactions with those people making him feel less and more than human. It was disconcerting to know that he would have fought tooth and nail to overcome this emotional abyss he'd found himself in, yet currently couldn't care less about it.

He needed an anchor, something to stop him from losing what he once was...

He tries to will himself back into Tamriel but finds his consciousness knocked away by the Veil of Akatosh that his Spire was still powering... It takes longer than he'd like to remember how to cast the Dimension Gate spell, which allows him to bypass the Veil...

His consciousness forms at the steps of the Eye of the World, a body manifesting around his mind like a suit of armour. He forces his feet to move and his hand to knock on the door, soon coming face to face with a girl with bro-... Megumin.

"Michael you're back! D-did you save Charlotte!?" the girl happily asks, looking around him for the girl and making him realise that he'd completely forgotten about that...

Seeing no one else, Megumin looks back up at Michael and freezes... "I-is that a new hat?... Or a prank?" she tentatively asks while slowly skooching backwards into the Spire.

Confused, Michael raises a hand to his face, it felt normal, how his mortal body usually felt... His hair was the same, dirty blond with a blue tint at the ends...

Ah...

Sprouting from his hairline were two large horns that used to belong to Clavicus Vile, which somewhat matched the dimensions of those on the Masque of Clavicus Vile... Unlike the now-dead Imp however, his were a pale white and emanated a cold wind and allowing tiny ice particles to form from them, Auroth's Blessing seemingly making its appearance through them.

"I-... Need Tiffania." he states, reaching for the door but finding it closed in his face as Megumin flees up the tower while shouting for help.

...

His skin prickles slightly as he looks up, spotting the laser atop the tower powering up... Was that for him? Maybe...

The door of the Spire opens, revealing everyone standing by ready for combat. Megumin had her staff in hand, Saeko preparing to draw her blade, Saya with Wards already manifest, Maria with wand in hand, and lastly, Tiffania with her own wand.

He just stares blankly at them, both confused and not at their reaction to him.

"Michael?" Tiffania tentatively asks, her eyes flitting from his new horns to his face. "If that's you, please say something only you would know..." she quietly says, looking as if she was dreading what comes next should he answer wrong.

...

"I... My sister, Lillith." he states after scouring his memories... Memories that'd been scrambled somewhat with the residuals of the old Clavicus.

"That's right..." Tiffania says, but still unsure.

"He might've stolen Michael's memories!" Megumin exclaims.

"Or maybe he just got high again..." Saya retorts.

"And the horns? Where's your explanation for that, genius!?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe MAGIC!? You idiot!"

...

Michael feels the side of his mouth upturn at the display before him, silencing the group as they await his reaction.

Realising that it was his horns that were disconcerting, he reaches up and snaps one off... Only for it to grow back within seconds. Unbeknownst to him, Clavicus' aeons of possessing those horns had made them integral to his being, it was Michael's sense of self that kept bringing them back...

He looks down at the horn in his hand and holds it out to the group, "I'm Michael. I need help." he neutrally states despite the desperation hidden in his tone.

...

Kinda difficult writing a completely apathetic character but I think I did an 'alright' job... Hopefully?

Hope you bois liked the chap, if I missed anything please let me know. Thanks!

If you like my content or want to read ahead please go to : https://www.p.atreon.com/Nagross, I'd appreciate it.

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