CALAMITY : Legends Of The Chosen

The Immortal Champion's Oath

Bound to Max Conrad, this ancient curse was bestowed by Saria, a powerful sand goddess or cursed mummy queen from the Old World. The curse is not mercy, but a claim. Max is her "champion" — her beloved, her plaything, her war dog. If he dies, she immediately pulls his soul into the mind plane, scolds him or teases him, and then resurrects him instantly — with no time delay, unlike Yggdrasil's soul backup which takes hours.

Core Traits:

Immediate Resurrection (upon death)

Resurrection Zone: A dome of divine sand forms around his corpse, defending it while Saria revives him.

Mind Plane Visitation: Max must briefly "face" Saria every time he dies. She's beautiful, terrifying, smug, and controlling.

Unkillable, but not invincible — The pain of death is real. So is her wrath.

Scene: Max Conrad Dies for the First Time (Maze Arc)

Max was alone now.

The maze's narrow sandstone walls pulsed with stale heat. His black lightning crossbows glowed dimly at his wrists — not from power, but tension.

He had been warned: "Don't blink."

He blinked anyway.

Too dry. Too tired.

CLACK.

Behind him. He spun.

Statue.

Too late.

CRACK!

The first strike shattered his ribs. The second dislocated his jaw, sending blood spraying across the corridor. He collapsed, gasping, arms twitching.

He tried to summon a bolt.

One. Just one—

But the statues didn't wait.

They didn't maim.

They didn't toy.

They crushed.

His skull was caved in.

His body slumped to the floor.

Mind Plane — The Sand Palace

A dry wind howled.

Max opened his eyes.

A golden sky swirled above a black desert.

And in front of him—

A figure emerged from the dunes, hips swaying, eyes glowing gold behind her linen veil. Her long, white ceremonial robes billowed like flame.

"Tch... Pathetic."

SARIA.

Her voice slithered across the air — sultry, mocking, and ancient.

"My Champion? Killed by walking bricks? I should strip you of the title right now."

Max dropped to one knee, breathing heavily, still reeling from the pain of his real-world death.

"Sorry… they… caught me off guard."

She stepped forward, barefoot on the hot sand, and knelt down.

"You're lucky I find you amusing."

She grabbed his chin.

"Lucky... I love you."

And she kissed him — long, deep, possessive.

When she pulled away, sand swirled around his body like a cocoon.

"Return to me. Show them what my champion can do."

Real World — Revival

Sand erupted from beneath Max's corpse like a geyser, forming a protective dome of razor-sharp golden grains. The statues backed away, confused.

Within the dome, Max's wounds began reversing. Bone snapped into place. Flesh knit back together. His eyes flicked open, black lightning dancing in his pupils.

He stood up slowly, flexing his fingers.

"Guess I owe her another date…"

The dome crumbled.

He emerged.

Alive.

Again.

"Round two, assholes."

MAX CONRAD — VENGEANCE UNLEASHED

As the golden sand dome shattered like glass around him, Max stood tall in the scorched maze corridor.

His cracked armor reformed, stitched together by Saria's lingering magic. His eyes glowed—faint embers of ancient fury lit within. The statues, now circling once again, didn't know fear.

But they should have.

"You should've made sure I stayed dead."

With a snap of his fingers, the twin crossbows on his forearms flared to life.

Indra's Arrow — Awakening Protocol.

Lightning surged.

Not thunder.

Silence.

A deep, eerie hum filled the corridor as a massive black bolt of lightning began charging on his left arm. On his right, a stabilizer fork of glowing runes locked into place, pulling in air, friction, moisture—everything.

The maze itself seemed to tense.

"You like breaking bones?" Max said, voice low. "Let me show you what real disintegration looks like."

The nearest statue lunged.

FWOOOM.

Max vanished in a blink, reappearing midair behind the statue—hovering.

"Indra's Arrow: First Surge…"

His bolt screamed like a comet.

"Break the Sky."

The blast struck the statue mid-center mass, unleashing a vortex of concentrated black lightning that not only vaporized it—but erased the walls behind it in a mile-long tunnel of destruction.

The stone titan turned to dust, its essence howling like a dying god.

CLACK.

CLACK.

More statues turned.

Max was already charging the next.

"Second Surge..."

He skated along the maze floor using static propulsion, firing rapid bursts from his crossbows. Every contact blast melted arms, shattered faces, and shredded stone into nothing.

The statues tried to move.

Too slow.

Max was reborn. Not just physically—but mythically.

"Third Surge…"

"FALL DOWN."

He fired directly into the ground, and a lightning shockwave exploded upward, blasting every statue in a thirty-meter radius into electrified rubble. The air filled with a shrill scream as energy crackled through their very core.

Nothing remained.

Just molten rock.

And Max.

He exhaled slowly, his arms smoking, sparks dancing around his fingers.

"Let's see you get back up from that."

MAX CONRAD — The Arrow Storm That Broke the Maze

He wasn't slowing down.

He couldn't.

Max's body felt like it was on fire. His arms blurred with motion, hurling bolt after bolt into the swarm of regenerating statues.

Piercing volts ripped the air apart.

Stone limbs exploded mid-motion.

Heads shattered like glass fruit under divine wrath.

"Keep regenerating. I'll keep deleting you."

The black lightning twisted in spirals now, warping the very atmosphere, creating shock funnels of vacuum pressure. Even the unbreakable walls of the maze began to crack, unable to contain the storm.

Zzzzt…zzzkkk…fzzt.

His crossbows began to whine. The feedback was growing unstable. Sparks shot from the power coils embedded in his armor. A warning blinked on his forearm HUD:

[VYTHRA RESERVES: 42%]

"Still got time…"

1,000 more.

3,000 more.

7,000.

Arrows split the sky.

The maze shook under the voltage.

Statues cracked, burst, melted under the electrical onslaught. For a moment, it looked like Max might actually win this.

But then—

They started regenerating faster.

Smarter.

They adapted to the tempo of his volleys, creeping at angles, using broken remains as cover.

His forearm display blinked red.

[VYTHRA RESERVES: 9%]

[6%]

[3%]

Max staggered slightly. A cough of blood escaped his lips.

"Damn it… Can't blow it all. If I hit zero—Saria can't save me."

His hands trembled, not from fear—but from the overload of raw feedback. His bones felt like they were humming. His heart beat out of rhythm.

But then he smiled, wide and mad.

"Just means I've got a few shots left to make them count."

He snapped his crossbows shut, whirring them into compact mode.

Then pulled his fingers together into a targeting sigil.

"Final barrage: 1% left. Let's make it sexy."

Statue after statue fell.

But so did his breath.

His pulse was failing to sync with the energy rhythm.

His knees buckled once, just briefly.

"Not yet. Not till they're gone."

9,500.

9,700.

9,920…

His lungs screamed. His vision narrowed.

And then—

9,999.

Fifteen bolts shot out, each a blinding streak of black lightning, circling midair like predators before slamming down with meteor-level force—vaporizing anything in their path.

The last few statues shattered into nothing.

And finally—silence.

Max collapsed to one knee.

The final bolt left his arms like a meteorite from heaven, vaporizing one last towering stone titan in a blast that lit the sky above the maze with a blackened aurora.

Then—silence.

Nothing answered back.

No stone crunch.

No whirring charge of energy.

[VYTHRA RESERVES: 0.001%]

[VYTHRA: 0.001% – AUTO-SHUTOFF ENGAGED]

His arms drooped.

His legs gave way.

"…Guess that's all I got…"

His crossbows powered down with a hiss.

His breathing was ragged, broken—but alive.

"Heh… Still here, Saria. Barely. You proud of your boy?"

No response came. But in the back of his mind, he felt her presence. Warm. Proud. Watchful.

Then the sound came again.

Crunch…He dragged himself toward the nearest wall, slumped against it,

A single statue. No—ten. Maybe more. They were waiting.

His crossbows sparked one last time—and died.

"Tch. Saria…"

"…Sorry, I think I overdid it this time."

He stepped back—

But there was nowhere left to run.

A stone fist slammed into his side, breaking his ribs instantly.

Another smashed his arm.

Then another grabbed him by the throat, lifting him in the air like a ragdoll.

Max grinned weakly. Blood ran down his chin.

"Still took ten of you…"

He didn't scream.

Not as they crushed his body like pulp.

Not as the light drained from his eyes.

His last sight—

The shattered maze corridor,

littered with statue corpses,

proof of a warrior's final stand.

Then he passed out, still smiling.

And then—

black.

MIND PLANE — SAND AND STARS

Max's vision cleared slowly.

Again, the quiet realm between life and death welcomed him. A shimmering desert of silver dunes under a black sky, where stardust fell like soft rain. And in the center of it all — atop a throne of wrapped linen and obsidian — sat Saria.

She didn't move at first. She simply stared.

Her glowing gold eyes scanned every inch of his battle-worn form.

And then—

"That's my boy."

She teleported instantly, appearing right in front of him.

"That's why you're my Champion, Max."

Without another word, she wrapped her arms around him and buried his face in her chest, clutching him like a prized pet she'd missed terribly.

Max flailed a little, muffled by the sheer volume of her divine assets.

"Mmmf— Saria—! I can't breathe!"

"Hush, you've earned this," she whispered, gently patting his head like a proud owner. "You fought until your bones cracked. You protected the weak. You unleashed ten thousand arrows until your soul dimmed. You're everything I ever wanted in a mortal."

She loosened just enough for him to breathe, only to lean in again — this time with intent. Her lips brushed his with lingering heat, and then she kissed him.

Longer. Slower. Deeper.

Like a goddess pouring divine fire into her vessel.

Max stumbled back, flushed, eyes wide.

"You—you trying to revive me or make me ascend permanently?"

Saria smirked.

"You're not allowed to die, Max. Not while I'm still watching you."

She tapped his chest. Her sigil flared — ancient and golden — reigniting his soul.

"So don't you dare give up. Ever. As long as I exist, you will rise."

And with a final head pat, her smile softened.

"Now go. Show the world why a curse from me is a blessing."

Max's body surged back to life in the real world, gasping as a dome of sand crumbled around him — the divine kiss still echoing on his lips.

MIND PLANE — 49 DEATHS DEEP

Max stood once again in the familiar plane of silver sands and obsidian sky, panting, his armor cracked and scorched from the last assault. The silence was broken only by the faint howling of cosmic wind.

He didn't even flinch when Saria appeared this time.

"Forty-nine…" she said quietly, walking barefoot across the glittering dunes.

Her long black hair whipped in the celestial wind, golden wrappings around her waist shimmering like living flame. She stood in front of Max, crossed her arms beneath her chest, and tilted her head.

"You just had to make it difficult, huh?"

Max gave a tired grin, wiping blood from his brow.

"Sorry. They're getting smarter. Hiding around corners. No honor in this maze."

Saria sighed dramatically, brushing a fingertip across his cheek.

"Then die faster."

Max blinked.

"Huh?"

"One more death, and you'll hit fifty."

She leaned in, eyes glowing with divine heat.

"And you know what happens when my Champion dies fifty times, don't you?"

"You evolve."

Max straightened slightly.

"...Wait, really?"

Saria smirked, lips curling like a lioness watching her cub become a beast.

"After fifty deaths, the curse mutates. Your body adapts. Your resurrection becomes instantaneous. And you'll unlock your Curseform."

"But there's a catch."

Max narrowed his eyes.

"There's always a catch."

"Your soul can only withstand one more descent before the mutation happens. Meaning…"

She leaned close, lips brushing his ear.

"Make. It. Spectacular."

With that, she planted a soft, lingering kiss on his forehead, then turned around and walked back toward her throne of swirling sand.

"Don't disappoint me. I want to feel it from here."

Max's eyes shot open in the real world. His body reformed beneath a new layer of desert armor, embers still clinging to his fingertips.

"Alright, freak statues…"

"Time to give the mummy a show."

Max Conrad – Death #49: The Limits of Lightning

The maze was no longer a test.

It was a graveyard.

Max staggered forward, Indra's arrow cocked and drawn — a cracked but defiant crossbow of black lightning fused to his arm. His steps were uneven, boots dragging across moss-laced stone. His breathing? Shallow. Broken.

The statues didn't wait.

They never waited.

As soon as his eyes blinked, even for a fraction of a second, they moved — skittering forward with that terrifying speed, like jagged reapers in a world without time.

"Still got... seven arrows," Max muttered, his voice hoarse. "I'll make 'em count."

He fired.

One shot — a clean, precise bolt of black energy — pierced through a statue's head. Dust exploded.

He turned, loosed another.

Then another.

The maze pulsed with the sound of electric thunder — but he was slowing. VYTHRA dwindled. His knees buckled.

His eighth shot misfired — the bolt fizzling at the tip, then vanishing.

"Shit…"

They were closer now.

His body trembled. His lightning stuttered.

He fired one more arrow with a desperate scream, tearing through two statues — but six more had taken their place.

He tried to summon more.

Nothing came.

"No— no, not now—!"

A statue swiped. His bow arm broke at the elbow. A snap echoed in the air as bone pierced through skin.

Max fell to one knee, panting, blood trailing from his mouth.

"Damn… not even enough to go out cool…"

Another statue struck — this time from behind.

He hit the ground. Hard. His vision spun.

They descended on him like hyenas. Claws. Hands. Teeth.

Stone cracked bone.

Stone crushed muscle.

Max didn't scream.

He looked up — toward the ceiling — toward nothing, really.

"...One more," he croaked. "Just one more death. Then I'll show them…"

His words were cut off as a stone foot caved in his chest.