"I'm on a...secret...mission. I am to find a lost Temple of the Nym, said to be in this mountain range," Felix lied, as glibly as he could.
Acting is now level 2!
"Hmm, and how did you discover this so-called Temple?" The archon stroked a thumb along its golden mouth-guard...the closest it had to a chin, Felix supposed. "Farwalkers are brave and wily, but not so foolhardy as to venture into the Foglands on bare speculation, mm?"
Felix felt the mental pressure again as the archon's eyes shimmered a deeper red. He squirmed against it, unable to get free entirely, but able to slip past the worst of it.
Mental Resistance is level 23!
How is it doing this? This mental pressure was unbearable and exhausting, despite his rising resistance. Felix opened his mouth, but was overcome by a wave of ennui. He suddenly questioned why he'd ever want to waste his breath lying, not when the truth was so much simpler. He could just spill the beans and it'd be over. The pain would go away and he'd be free. Just let go, and sink into the abyss.
Let us in~
NO. GET OUT OF MY HEAD!
Mental Resistance is level 24!
Mental Resistance is level 25!
Congratulations! You Have Reached Apprentice Tier in Mental Resistance!
You Gain The--
Felix pushed the notification away, focusing his swimming vision on the golden giant trying to break his mind. The archon's eyes were points of vile flame, burning in the darkness of its helmet like the last guttering torch before true night fell. He licked his lips and steadied his breathing.
"The Henaari told me of it."
Breath Control is level 16!
Acting is level 3!
"Hm, intriguing." The golden giant leaned back again, Felix only then realizing how close the metal creature had loomed. "Your mind is strong, and your will is not weak either. You speak of things that you have no knowledge of, yet I find your words compelling. You are an enigma, ileni." Felix gulped, his hands shaking despite the tight grip of the Arcids. The metal monstrosity idly pet the enormous wurm at its side, golden metal rasping as it slid over its rocky carapace.
"Now, I have been patient. I have listened to your fumblings and childish acts of wordplay and it has amused me. But my humor thins by the second, and so I will ask you this once only." The archon turned fully toward Felix, its entire body a threat of imminent violence. "Answer me truthfully and you will have a just reward. Lie to me and, well, you shall experience horrors beyond your comprehension." The massive wurm next to him snapped its four-way jaws, globby bits of drool splatting against nearby ferns. The archon leaned forward, its torso somehow crossing the gap between them like a dark mountain.
"How do you know of the Temple?"
This time the pressure was like an avalanche, subsuming every bit of Felix that wanted to lie or obfuscate the truth. He gasped, his mind floundering in an ocean of pain and darkness, and the denizens of the deep began to erode his thoughts. A sick, cloying corruption oozed over him, a smell that tasted like violence and desperation, the color of hunger and hate. The ground dissolved beneath him, the air boiling away, and even the light deigned to shine elsewhere. He was sinking into blood and acid, hate and darkness, and there was only one way out.
"I-" he struggled to push the words through his chest. They stuck like burrs, tearing into his heart and lungs. "I've been there!"
With a sudden twist, Felix flourished the hooked bronze blade. He held it out between him and the golden giant in a way that he hoped was threatening, but suspected only appeared desperate.
"Ha! You draw your weapon on me?!" The archon thundered, his eyes flaring into torches of flame. "I've withstood the countless blows of a cataclysm, you've no--"
The archon paused, his eye-fires fixed on the sword Felix held.
"That is a Crescian blade...and those..." The golden giant stepped backward, as if struck. "You-" it gasped.
"You are Nymean."