《The Jester of Apocalypse》


 Chapter 1 - Dead ends

    The council members of the Zearthorn sect had gathered for the daily meeting. Dozens of haughty cultivators sat in a round room and eyed the imposing figure of the sect master.


    He was short, but he projected the force of a giant. His long crimson hair draped over his broad shoulders like a bloody waterfall. His eyes were a blue so vivid it gave the impression of rippling tides.


    The only thing he wore, except his dimension rings and the bundle of keys, was the official Zearthorn sect robe.


    The same robe as everyone on the council. But it felt different.


    At first glance, his robes were chaotically messy and disheveled, yet from that mess emerged beauty. Some method to the madness of the folds of his robes highlighted his rippling muscles and physical perfection just right.


    He held himself casually as he glanced down at the council members. An amused smile hung on his lips.


    When meetings happened every day, even cultivators tended to loosen up. They brought tea to their stations and chatted amicably with other council members. Whatever documents they had on their person were messily strewn about on the table.


    But today? The documents were tidy, the tea was absent, and the council members were quiet.


    The sect master sighed in disappointment. Most council members were his wives and kids, an unusual sight for such a prominent sect. Usually, over the years, chaos shook leadership.


    The old died, and the new was brought in. Eventually, a sect stopped being a large family and became an organization. This had yet to happen to the Zearthorn sect. The sect master of the Zearthorn sect, Marven Zearthorn, was also the sect''s founder. This sect had been ruled over by him for many generations, in no small part due to his prominence as a cultivator.


    And to his overwhelming disappointment, because nobody was qualified to take over.


    But the stink of change was present in the air. Even your kids and wives got tired of you after hundreds of years. And he had gotten really tired of them. He couldn''t help but feel he had failed whenever he witnessed conspiracies unfold before him. Sometimes, he¡¯d even get a little giddy when the schemes were relatively harmless.


    But other times, like today, were different. One of the council members got up, formally bowed with his fists pressed together, and greeted him.


    "Greetings, Sect Master!" The man that greeted Marven was his son.


    A mortal would find that ridiculous, given that this geriatric looked centuries older than the handsome young man sitting on the throne, but to cultivators, this was a standard sight. Age only showed in one¡¯s appearance if they were behind in their cultivation.


    "Greetings, elder Kaphor. I presume you¡­" He painstakingly slowly glanced over the room "... And I am referring to you all now, have brought me a suggestion?"


    The sect elder fiddled with some papers on the desk and nervously read the contents of one, "Yes, Sect Master. One of your sons has reached the age of eleven today."


    Marven had to force himself not to roll his eyes openly, "Yes, and what of it?


    "Well¡­ He is unlikely to reach the sect standards at this pace, and sect rules dictate he should be put up for arranged marriage."


    The sect¡¯s rules. The rules that the sect master had created himself and could, with full justification, change as he wished. He could even make exceptions.


    A sect¡¯s master had absolute authority. This was mostly true, but not even overwhelming power was enough to escape politics. The rules were unfair, nonsensical, and complicated, but at least politics kept one¡¯s mind sharp, even if the sharpening discarded some brain cells in the process.


    "And may I ask exactly why you''re bringing this to my attention a whole year before Neave falls behind those standards?"


    The Elder shuffled nervously and jumped to explain, "You see, esteemed sect master, the boy has no interest in cultivation whatsoever. Considering this, there¡¯s merit in starting early with the preparations. After all, we know you want the best for your children."


    As the years mercilessly marched onwards, there was less and less love between Marven and his family. To the mortal farmer of ages ago, how Marven viewed his family today would seem alien, monstrous even. However, witnessing your children and wives attempting to backstab you and each other countless times broke something in a person.


    Yet another such case was happening just now.


    "I see¡­ So how far along are you with these ¡®preparations¡¯?" The elder hurried to respond.


    "Yes, dear Sect Master, we have been in contact with the Yvellsare family of the Startamer sect. They would be glad to marry off one of their daughters. We have had a few elders, including myself, visit them. I can truly say she will become a woman worthy of a king. She is an accomplished cultivator and quite the beauty. She does have a few¡­ Issues¡­ In regards to courtesy, but I think that would pair quite well with the young master."


    Marven¡¯s mood dropped even further.


    These heaven-forsaken assholes.


    So they had finally noticed. It was true that Marven had been paying more attention than usual to Neave. He was still confident that they had no idea why. They probably thought it was because Neave was Brivia¡¯s son.


    After all, why else would they think Marven was paying attention to him? Now, they had decided to cut the branch off before it toppled the tree. And they chose to do it in the most pathetic way possible.


    Marriage into the Yvellsare family must have been an ordeal to arrange, even if Marven was confident it was only a minor branch. And now they believed they had cornered him. Either he let the marriage go through and lost Neave or vetoed the marriage and lost power.


    Two hundred years ago, Marven would have cackled merrily at the idea that doing what he wanted could cost him power. He was both the sect master as well as the single most powerful cultivator in his sect by a massive margin. How could his council possibly take power away from him? Who would even dare try?


    Everyone, it seemed.


    The only solution Marven could think of was executing anyone who ever dreamed of disobeying him. That, as evident by the relatively short life spans of demonic sects and especially their sect masters, didn¡¯t always work out.


    While the ordeal most certainly put him in an unpleasant situation, Marven smiled calmly.


    He wanted to cackle and howl and point and yell and tell them all to shove their marriage arrangement up their ass.


    Why?


    Because, this time, he just happened to have the perfect hand to play.


    "I hadn¡¯t expected the council to arrange such a prominent marriage partner for Neave. I apologize, however, but I have to veto this decision."


    The pleasant expressions remained plastered onto their faces, but there was a subtle hint of glee, barely restrained by their fake smiles.


    "Well, sect master, that will be highly problematic. It would not do to go back on our word and cause conflict with the Startamer sect. Is there any reason you¡¯d deny such a boon to the young master?"


    Marven put on a distressed expression and grabbed his head as if he had a headache, "The issue is that I have already betrothed Neave to someone."


    The council members, rather than despairing, only got more gleeful.


    "Sect master! Have you arranged a marriage partner for Neave and failed to inform the council? We do not question your authority, but as you may see, this decision has resulted in dire consequences! How will we possibly explain this to the Startamer sect!? They will have our heads for the disrespectful act! Moreover, it will look like our leadership is in disrepair! What if our enemies use this as a pretense to start a war with us!?"


    "Dear elder, it was you who failed to inform me of your plans."


    The elder hesitated a bit at that one but continued, "Nevertheless, the damage has been done. As a representative of the council, I formally request that you inform us of the identity of Neave¡¯s betrothed. Perhaps we may yet rectify this blunder."


    "Hmm, I suppose I have no choice. Very well. Neave¡¯s betrothed is General Ilkivir the Beheader."


    The council froze. The elder addressing Marven dropped some papers and rushed to regain his composure, "How in¡­ Why would you permit something like this, Sect Master!? How could you be so cruel toward the young master!?"


    "Do you remember the severed mountain lotus our sect acquired six years ago?"


    The council members glanced around the room in distress.


    "It couldn¡¯t¡­?"


    "Indeed, it was acquired through a deal with Ilkivir. The only thing he wanted in return was my son¡¯s hand in marriage¡ªdisgusting swine. But the severed mountain lotus was of immense value to us, so I offered him a deal. I told him that I would grant him my son''s hand, but only if he failed to reach our sect''s standard. The General happily agreed. However, he made me swear a spirit oath that I shan¡¯t grant Neave any cultivation-improving treasures before our deal expires. I had thought the general was a fool for accepting the deal. After all, he must have been unaware of who Neave¡¯s mother was. His gamble would normally have a roughly half-half chance of paying off, but I could never have imagined Neave would act like this¡­"


    And now, look, what a tragedy! He had to train Neave personally to make it on time. Marven was sure that none of the council members cared about Neave. But they would be damned before they let the sect establish a connection to a man like Ilkivir.


    Marven would have lost power had he made this deal for any other reason. However, the treasure had granted their sect a bright future and a generation-defining prodigy.


    "Sect Master, we will have to assign one of the elders to train Neave to our standards¡­"


    "I am afraid I have to take responsibility for this ordeal myself. The meeting is finished. You may go about your duties." Marven declared, bowed to the council, and walked out of the council chambers. Now all he had to do was what he planned to do anyway.


    Train his son.


    ***


    She was so beautiful. Her striking silver hair, streaked with blood, rippled in the wind like a majestic waterfall. Her flowing purple robes, torn, ragged, and bloody, adorned her slender frame.


    She was shaking.


    She was exhausted.


    But she lifted her sword anyway.


    Her opponents were exhausted as well. If she ran, she would certainly get away. But she knew what would happen to the rest of the village. She gazed at the score of wretched scum standing in front of her.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    They were wounded, bloody, and charred, but they were grinning. Some of them would die, and they knew, but they still cackled maliciously.


    They would die so they could kill her. Once she was out of the way, they would assault the village. The villagers would resist, and even more would die in the process. It made no sense. They were¡­


    They were idiots.


    If one looked closer, one could see their distant gazes, lazy eyes, and drooling mouths. The beautiful silver-haired woman, too, was stupid. The dead were all stupid. They weren¡¯t just stupid. They were dangerously stupid too, and uncivilized and¡­ Oh no, he had to get away. He felt drool dripping down his mouth and the world splitting apart as his left eye casually drifted apart from the¡­


    Gasp.


    ¡­And then he woke up. He looked around, and, yes, indeed, he was in his room. Exactly where one would expect to wake up.


    But it felt strange. The books, all curated from the most intelligent and worldly topics, didn''t belong on the shelves of a stupid man''s room.


    Ah, of course.


    It made sense.


    This was no stupid man¡¯s room, after all.


    Neave got out of the soft, comfortable covers of his bed. The air in his room was stale, smelling of sloth, and refusal to open the window. The fresh spring breeze pushed the blinds to the window, knocking, begging to be let inside, but it was futile. The inviting glow of the noon sun peeked through the slits in the shades but to no avail.


    Neave got up and stretched, a fruitless attempt to ease his back pain. He stepped past the mirror in his room and smiled smugly at his reflection.


    The striking crimson-red color of his father''s hair had meshed with the silver of his late mother and created a gentle, sunset-pink mane streaked with a few red locks here and there. His face was pleasant, even compared to the beauty of a woman. And his eyes¡­ Striking blue, vast as the sky, and more profound than the ocean, carried countless secrets of the universe.


    He picked up one of the books and stood against an empty wall. He placed the book on his head and marked its position with one of the pencils. He stepped away from the wall excitedly but shrunk upon seeing the mark right on top of the one he had placed yesterday.


    "That can¡¯t be right!"


    He stepped against the wall again, straightening his back and just slightly pushing his toes up. The mark showed just barely above the last one. He nodded and smiled.


    Neave walked up to a chair sitting in the corner of his room. He grabbed the robe half-assedly draped over it and put it on. It was a bit too large for him. He grabbed the flat clogs, placed them on the soles of his feet, and started tying them with cloth ribbons. The result was messy and rushed, but he just tightened the sloppy knots and hurried to get up.


    Neave walked up to a stand next to his bed. He grabbed a small food pill from a bottle and crunched his face until the bitter taste disappeared, "Ugh."


    Neave put the bottle of pills in his robes. He scurried to his window and pulled the blinds back briefly, wincing at the brightness. He peeked upwards to check the position of the sun. He nodded to himself.


    Neave anxiously walked over to his door and took a peek outside. The hallways were empty. He sighed in relief. Neave stepped out of his room, cautiously examining the hallways. Once he stepped out, he locked the door and stepped back.


    Above his door was a piece of yellowed paper with faded ink on it. The ink had his name on it, far to the right side of the sign, leaving space behind his name. He smiled proudly at the golden shade his paper had gained over the years and patted himself on the back.


    He trod down the adorned hallways of the sect. Not every door had paper above it. Almost none of them did. The name plates above the rooms were fashioned out of fancy polished wood, iron, bronze, and, in one case, silver. The place that remained empty behind Neave¡¯s name had also been filled with numerous ridiculous titles.


    Golden flash Uldhore Zearthorn.


    Written on a wooden plate. Neave snorted and kept walking.


    Some of the doors had no plates above them at all. It was clear to see they had been removed just recently. Neave didn¡¯t even spare the empty spots a second glance.


    He thought he heard voices down the hallway at one point. He paused and backtracked, taking a completely different route. There he heard footsteps and turned to the left. He had to walk around the mess hall to avoid running into anyone.


    He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth as his feet ached, "Who the fuck is even allowed to walk around during the daily training?"


    Neave slowed his walking and took a careful turn in the hallway. Just a bit before him was the path leading to the courtyard. He took a deep breath and stepped forward.


    "Third form, sixth strike."


    "Hwa!"


    "Third form, sixth parry."


    "Psoo!"


    Roughly ten thousand disciples were doing the daily training. Although such a mass of bodies made a considerable crowd, they only comprised around a twentieth of the enormous courtyard.


    Neave¡¯s heartbeat sped up at the noise. Not only was such a mass of people guaranteed to be loud, but these juvenile muscleheads also ensured they were as loud and obnoxious as possible.


    Neave took a deep breath, turned left, and started walking along the courtyard''s northern wall. He was barely a few meters away from the disciples. Neave ignored the baleful glares and kept walking with his head high.


    Well, not that high, but he wouldn¡¯t let himself be intimidated. As he walked past forty or so rows of disciples, his stomach dropped. One of his half-brothers was along the outer edge of the forty-somethingth row.


    He seriously contemplated returning to his room, but it was too late. He was spotted almost immediately, and running was futile.


    The stocky disciple immediately dropped his sword and ran to Neave, "Come here, you rat!"


    And then it started.


    Neave was grabbed by his hair and lifted off the ground. He was repeatedly punched in his torso. The punches were very restrained but still nearly cracked ribs and ruptured organs. Neave resorted to the usual strategy of dealing with a situation like this. He screamed. Within seconds the instructor, one of the sect''s elders, grabbed ahold of the assailant and berated him.


    "Hunter! How dare you interrupt practice! You noisy little crap! Do that again, and I swear on my name I will have you lashed and put into solitary confinement! Have I made myself clear!?" The elder kicked Hunter in the ass and forced him back into the formation.


    Then he turned around and slapped Neave.


    "What the fuck was that for!?"


    The elder slapped him again, "Watch your language around me, brat! You know damn well you¡¯re disrupting the practice again!"


    "How? By existing!? He was the one who started beating me completely unprovoked!"


    That earned him a kick in the shin.


    "Silence! I swear your father will hear of this, and you will not be avoiding the punishment this time!"


    Neave gritted his teeth and spat in the instructor''s face. Everybody around them went deathly silent. The instructor hadn''t screamed or said anything. He just stepped forward and slapped Neave so hard that the disciples on the other side of the courtyard heard the echoes. This was enough to knock Neave out cold.


    The practice continued as everybody tried to ignore Neave¡¯s hopefully-just-unconscious body. After finally regaining consciousness, he got up to his feet and shakily stumbled forward. Eventually, he made it to the library.


    He barely managed to push the door open. He walked into the first floor of the library. The Zearthorn sect library was deathly silent. Well, the fourth, third, and first floors usually were.


    However, the second floor was where the basic cultivation manuals were kept and information about many treasures, sacred beasts, sacred flora, monsters, and so on. It was thus usually populated by boisterous and smelly disciples. Neave had no passion for the second floor of the library.


    Walking down the library, he walked past the endless rows of books. He glanced at some of the titles.


    Applications of Spirit in Golem Joint Construction.


    Western Keyishin Farming Techniques.


    The History of the Bonmiele Church Saints.


    Truly captivating reading material.


    Neave went down the endless maze of bookshelves and sat in a dark corner. He sat on a creaky old chair and opened a book on the decaying table. A candle was sitting unlit as he squinted at the faint letters in the book.


    He didn¡¯t cry. His robes were bloody around his shin, and his face was swollen. He massaged his neck every few moments and sat uncomfortably as his stomach ached.


    Sometime later, his reading was interrupted when a small, green pill landed on the book. He sighed dramatically and popped the pill in his mouth. It rapidly made his aching neck, stomach, shin, and face feel better, but not quite like new.


    He turned left and bowed to the even darker shadows further down the most forgotten section of the library, "Greetings, sect master! Have you come to administer my lashings and detain me into solitary confinement?" He asked, every syllable dripping with overt drama and sarcasm.


    However, nobody walked out of the shadows. Just as Neave was about to call again, a hand grabbed his shoulder. He nearly jumped out of his skin.


    "Greetings, oh disciple of the Zearthorn sect."


    Neave groaned and looked over his shoulder.


    His father playfully smiled at him, "I need not administer any punishments, for my loyal servant Hunter had administered them for me."


    Neave knew what his father was doing but let himself get caught in the trap anyway, "And why the hell do you let him get away with doing this to me?"


    "Doing what to you?"


    Neave swallowed bile and continued, "Why are you letting him, no, why are you letting everyone get away with seriously injuring me with little to no reason?"


    "For the same reason I am letting you remain a mortal for now. It¡¯s best that one naturally learns the consequences of their mistakes."


    Neave ignored the ¡®for now¡¯ in his statement and looked at his father skeptically, "Natural consequences? Ah, I suppose you expect me to catch up with everyone and return the favor?" Neave scoffed. "I know you aren¡¯t here just to preach and give me a healing pill." Neave smiled and continued, "Unless you¡¯re here to congratulate me on my birthday?"


    "Ah, yes, birthdays." Marven scoffed, and Neave rolled his eyes in exasperation.


    "So, why are you here then?"


    "I am here to inform you that you are becoming a cultivator."


    "No, I am not."


    "Pity. I suppose you will have to get married then."


    Neave''s eyebrows shot up, "Pardon?"


    "You are aware of the sect rules, yes? Everyone who fails to meet a certain standard is considered a candidate for an arranged marriage. For the foundation realm, that age is a relatively generous age of twelve. You have just turned eleven, and the council has made a decision. You will be married off unless you make it to the foundation realm within a year.."


    Neave gaped.


    He thought himself quite adept at handling whatever his father could throw at him, but this caught even him by surprise. Arranged marriage? True, it was standard practice. By all means, everything his father had said was correct. But they were marrying him off?


    That didn¡¯t feel right. If one was such a failure that they failed to reach the foundation realm by twelve, there was no political capital in marrying them off. This was significantly more true for men than for women, too, which was doubly unusual.


    Neave frowned when he realized what the likely catch was. Whoever he was marrying must be hideous. Yes, that must be it. It would make sense, too, given that his stepmothers, most of whom were council members, absolutely hated his guts.


    However, the joke was on them, for they had slightly miscalculated in their hubris. Neave was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, no matter how messed up her teeth were. This was his chance to finally leave the sect.


    "I am beyond shocked! I couldn¡¯t have in my wildest dreams expected that the council would grant me such an exquisite birthday present. Pray tell father, when shall I be meeting the bride?" Neave looked at his father with stars in his eyes, but those stars extinguished a little as his father replied with a smug grin.


    "Bride?"


    Neave paused, "...Yes?"


    His father merely looked at him quizzically. This must be some sort of misunderstanding since


    Neave couldn¡¯t think of anything wrong with what he said¡­ Unless, "You¡¯re marrying me off to a man!?"


    "Ah, indeed, have I not mentioned that small detail?" His father leaned in, saying every word in an increasingly exaggerated tone.


    "Veto the decision."


    "No, I won¡¯t veto the decision."


    "So you would just sell your son like that!?"


    "Strange, you seemed enthusiastic to be sold off just a few moments ago. I wonder what changed?"


    "The sex of my marriage partner!?"


    "Worry not about that." His father waved his hand and chuckled, "I own a treasure that can change one''s sex, and it works great on mortals. I think you¡¯d make quite the fine young lady."


    Neave was quite confident that he''d kill his father immediately if he had the strength to do so, "Do you seriously expect me to cooperate with this!?"


    "Well, then¡­ What are you going to do about it?" His father gave him an exaggeratedly villainous smile, "At dawn tomorrow, we begin your training." He winked at Neave, and then he vanished.


    Neave screamed and called for his father, but the only response he received was his own voice, echoing down the hallways of the library


    "He must be out of his heavens-forsaken mind if he thinks this is alright." Thus Neave made a decision.


    He would escape the sect tonight.


    There wasn¡¯t all that much to pack in his room besides heavy books that would weigh him down, so he hadn''t even bothered going there. He had luckily already taken the bottle of food pills with him.


    Breaking into the headquarters of a sect was deadly and dangerous. The same went for breaking out of it. He didn¡¯t have to break out of the sect, however, he just had to walk out.


    Neave expected his father would alert the guard in case he tried leaving the sect. Unfortunately, Neave had accidentally gotten his hands on either poorly hidden or misplaced texts detailing certain sect secrets.


    The sect had several secret underground paths. And most of those paths were warded against entering but not against leaving. Their primary purpose was to allow for flanks if the sect got attacked.


    Neave instead just used them to escape.


    He had set off during the late afternoon with the sun still high in the sky. The Zearthorn sect was located in the middle of a dangerous forest next to a large mountain. Neave knew that making it out alive and reaching a town would be challenging. However, compared to allowing his father to corner him, it was a risk he was willing to take.


    He knew right about everything there was to know about the woods surrounding his sect, courtesy of his extensive reading. He dove into the forest, carefully navigating his way between the trees. He hadn''t planned on sleeping in the woods and was ready to stay awake for days.


    So far, he got rather lucky, as he hadn¡¯t encountered any monsters. Not a big surprise, given that his sect exterminated any monsters within their radius of influence.


    He felt confident that he had made it out, but not even an hour of running through the woods later, he felt his consciousness slip away as he fell face-first to the ground.

 Chapter 2 - Cursed tome

    Neave woke up and felt¡­ Good, if a little sore.


    He felt like he¡¯d had a lovely night''s rest. His mind was still hazy from last night, and he had absolutely no idea where he was. As he opened his eyes, he met¡­ The ground.


    Dirt.


    Pale and well-trodden with a few stones here and there. His sight was blurry, and he looked around. He didn¡¯t see anything except for a seemingly endless stretch of dirt. His vision was too blurred to see what lay beyond the sea of soil.


    As his eyes slowly regained focus, he noticed the sun was setting. And when his eyes fully cleared, he realized exactly where he was. He was precisely in the middle of his sect''s courtyard. And judging by the position of the mountain their sect was built around, the sun wasn¡¯t setting.


    It was rising.


    Clap, clap, clap¡­


    He turned around and saw Marven standing behind him with a bright smile.


    "How impressive. Honestly, I¡¯m shocked. To think you wouldn¡¯t even wait for the night to fall before you made your escape, bravo. Such decisiveness is worthy of praise."


    "What did you do to me?"


    "Oh, well, the healing pill I gave you may or may not have also been a sleeping pill that was supposed to prevent you from getting funny ideas. As well as put you to sleep on time. If you stayed up as late as usual, there¡¯s no way you¡¯d be rested enough to train properly."


    Neave¡¯s stomach sank.


    He had felt that his father catching up to him was a distinct possibility, but he hadn''t expected something like this. His father, the well-respected and wise sect master of the Zearthorn sect, looked like a devil to him.


    "Well then, I think it is time to begin your training."


    Neave was a master at not allowing himself to be forced into anything he didn¡¯t want to do. He had demonstrated this skill by braving hundreds of beatings until he was finally exempt from the daily training. Unluckily for him, his father was a master at getting people to do exactly what he wanted them to do.


    He first wanted Neave to start running, but Neave simply refused. Then Marven pulled out a small stone golem from one of his dimension rings. Golems were quite frightening monsters, usually. But wild golems, which were monsters, were very different from artificial ones.


    Neave was shocked to see his father use something as precious as an artificial golem to get him running. He frowned as he inspected it. It was relatively small and had frog-like legs and long, thin arms.


    After putting his hand on the gem exposed on its forehead, Marven grabbed the little golem by the neck. It suddenly jolted and looked like it was trying to free itself from his grasp.


    "Alright, Neave, here is how it will go. This little toy here is an artificial golem. I¡¯ve commanded it to chase you, and if it catches you, it will mercilessly smash your crotch into bits."


    Neave scoffed.


    That was undoubtedly a bluff. And if it wasn''t a bluff by some miracle, he was sure his father would regret doing something like that to him. The moment Marven released the golem, it bolted straight toward Neave. Neave panicked but restrained himself from running, certain it was a bluff.


    It wasn¡¯t a bluff.


    The golem caught up with him and, as his father had said, mercilessly smashed his crotch into bits. Neave puked several times and almost passed out. His father let him simmer in pain a bit and then handed him a potent healing pill.


    It fixed him up in seconds, a testament to its power. Neave could swear on the heavens that he felt his little friend was leaning a bit more to the right than it had been before.


    "Alright then, you have about five seconds, and then we begin with round two."


    Neave wasn''t calling his bluff a second time.


    Neave had tried to defy his father the same way he had all the times before. But no matter how he resisted, Marven had the tools to force Neave¡¯s hand.


    After he forced him to run to near-death levels of exhaustion, Marven just handed Neave yet another undoubtedly costly healing pill and a small food pill to keep him going. The food pill was much less bitter than the ones handed out to disciples.


    "Now that you¡¯ve finished running, it is time to do some pull-ups!"


    Neave whimpered a bit. Marven pulled an object out of his dimension ring. He kept some sort of metal bar in the air with qi manipulation. Then he told Neave to grab it. Neave refused, but when gripping the bar and holding onto it for dear life became the only escape from the crotch-smasher, Neave obeyed.


    Once Neave held onto the bar, Marven lifted the bar further up into the air, "Alright, now, we¡¯re starting with the second exercise. The metal bar will keep getting hotter and hotter, and the only way to cool it down is if you do a pull-up."


    There was no way this bar was anything but a regular metal bar that Marven kept afloat with his admittedly impressive qi manipulation. However, there was no bluff to call this time.


    The metal was already burning his palms.


    ***


    After he had to do push-ups and squats under similar threats, Neave was just about ready to die.


    Breathing raggedly and sitting on the floor, Neave swallowed his fifth healing pill and looked up at his father, "Can we please just stop for today?"


    Marven pretended to be considering his question. Either way, they were done for today because Neave would probably die if he swallowed another healing pill, even with their superior quality.


    "I suppose we could."


    Neave heaved a sigh of relief.


    He looked around and noticed several disciples were watching them train, keeping a respectful distance from the spectacle. Bullying Neave was one thing. Interrupting the sect master was another. Their obvious jealousy at Neave¡¯s special treatment was a sure sign that Neave¡¯s beatings would get worse.


    Neave tried to adopt as serious an expression as he could manage. He threw one arm over his knee, folded his other leg under it, and looked up at his father. His father''s amusement, however, just made him feel like a pathetic child.


    "I want to discuss something with you, father."


    "Indeed? And what may that be?"


    "Make me the head librarian. At least for the first floor."


    Marven''s eyebrows shot up, and he asked Neave in genuine surprise, "Exactly why would you want me to do that?"


    "How much do you know about the books on the first floor?"


    "I know their general contents. The books placed into the library first go through my hands."


    "Well, have you read all the books?"


    Marven replied as if it were obvious, "No. Why would I read through all of the books? I may make it look easy, but being a sect master is rather time-consuming."


    "Too consuming to properly check the books?"


    "I already told you I do inspect them."


    "No, you don¡¯t."


    Marven¡¯s eyebrow twitched, "And exactly why do you think that?"


    "Well, for starters, I¡¯ve read every book in the library."


    Marven looked at Neave with blatant disbelief, "I know you do a lot of reading, but eleven thousand unique books are in the library. There is no way you could have read through all of them."


    "There are fourteen thousand seven hundred and five unique books in the library. And I have indeed read all of them. Some several times. What I¡¯ve found makes me believe you are lying about checking the books." Neave grinned ear to ear at the incredulous look on his father''s face.


    "Do you have any evidence for that claim?"


    Neave just frowned and replied sarcastically, "Of course, let me just list the name of every single book and a synopsis. You want the names in alphabetical order?"


    "Alright, I suppose that would be sufficient."


    Neave¡¯s mood instantly fell, "Are you serious?"


    Marven nodded with a grin.


    "Alright then."


    Neave proceeded to list the name of every book and briefly describe the contents. After around an hour of talking, he hadn¡¯t even left the books that started with the letter ¡®A.¡¯ So his father just quizzed him about some of the books he had personally read.


    At some points, Marven challenged Neave¡¯s answers, saying they were wrong, but Neave confidently doubled down and even offered to visit the library to confirm the accuracy of his statements. Marven already knew Neave was correct and was just testing him, but the sheer accuracy of Neave¡¯s knowledge was unbelievable.


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    "I think that is proof enough. I believe you, but I wasn¡¯t lying about every book passing through my hands first. Now I¡¯m starting to believe some elders may have skipped that step. Now tell me. Why do you wish to become the head librarian?"


    "Oh, that is simple. The library is horrendous."


    Marven would usually scoff at such a claim, but if there was anyone qualified to make such a statement, it was someone who had read through the entire library.


    "Elaborate."


    "What¡¯s there to elaborate? It just sucks. Far too many books aren¡¯t worth the paper they¡¯re written on, and that¡¯s a minor issue. Books that are just incorrect are littering the shelves. Either due to the author being a quack or due to bona fide propaganda. Not just that, but I¡¯ve located over twenty cultivation manuals!"


    Marven frowned hard at hearing that.


    It wasn''t the end of the world if someone found a cultivation manual on the first floor, but it was a big problem if they got lost there. Very few people visited the library''s first floor in the first place, and the second floor was designed to make finding cultivation manuals easier.


    "Alright. I will consider making you the head librarian of the library''s first floor."


    "No."


    Marven was about to speak, but he stopped himself.


    Neave got up to his feet and looked his father in the eyes, ready to play the final card he had up his sleeve, "Knowledge is power. Even cultivators know that much. But you are all too obsessed with the sacred and do not pay enough attention to the mundane. There would be enough knowledge, even in our pathetic little library, to make us a truly powerful sect if we fully use it. And I can be useful. What I¡¯m offering to you, father, is a deal. I¡­"


    "No."


    "Listen to me.."


    "Neave, I said no. I already know where you¡¯re going with this."


    "Please¡­"


    "When will you stop being so stubborn?"


    "Fa¡­"


    "No, Neave, this time I need you to properly listen to me."


    "Bu-"


    "Silence!"


    Marven seldom shouted. Every disciple sparring or training on the grounds froze upon hearing his voice.


    "You do not know what the life of a mortal is like, child."


    Neave was about to speak up, but the threat behind his father''s glare made him shut up.


    "A hundred years at most if you¡¯re lucky, and it¡¯s hard to say you¡¯re really ¡®lucky¡¯ if you live that long. Your body deteriorates. You slowly rot in your skin until you¡¯re nothing but a miserable bag of withered flesh and thin bones, waiting for the right rock to trip and finish you off. Or even better, for a random organ to just suddenly stop working. It¡¯s often the brain you are so fond of that fails you. Is this truly the life you desire?"


    "There are countless miraculous things one can achieve even with mundane methods."


    "So what, you will chase some miraculous ¡®mundane¡¯ immortality potion to the ends of this realm? Will you squander your life looking for a cure when one is dangling above your head!? Why not simply become a cultivator?"


    "Then tell me, father, what is the life of a cultivator like?"


    Marven straightened his back and projected every bit of dignity a cultivator of his rank had, "It is anything you have the power to make it be."


    "No, it¡¯s anything you are willing to be violent enough to obtain!"


    "Martial arts are not violence."


    "My fucking ass! No matter how pretty you make it look, chopping someone¡¯s head off with a sword is violence!"


    "We, Neave, do not swing our swords to take lives away. The Zearthorn sect is a righteous one. We swing our swords to protect others."


    "The same way my mother did, right?"


    Slap¡­


    ¡­


    "...Tell me, father. Which form and strike of the Zearthorn sect¡¯s mighty swordsmanship did this move originate from?" Neave stared his father down as blood trickled from his lip down his jawline.


    He got up and walked past his father, intentionally bumping into him, stumbling, and almost falling to the ground. Marven furiously looked at Neave as he walked away.


    For about twenty or so seconds. Then he dropped the fake outrage. It was hard not to cackle maniacally.


    Oh, Neave¡­


    He looked down to his sash where his bundle of keys hung before Neave snatched it away.


    Marven was impressed at how smoothly Neave pulled that off, but he must be drained from the training if he thought Marven wouldn''t notice.


    Oh well.


    It was time for Neave to stomp to the library, probably to the fourth floor, and then attempt to enter. Maybe he would burn it down in his anger? Or just steal one of the precious books? Marven chuckled.


    Sadly for Neave, the bundle of keys was practically useless if it was in the hands of anyone other than himself. No locks would turn without his qi signature. There were a few mundane keys on that bundle too, but the locations of the locks themselves were closely guarded secrets.


    As he watched Neave tiredly stomp away, he saw her shadow in his. Neave was every bit as stubborn and strong-willed as Brivia was. He put the shadows of the past behind him as he turned to the sun.


    He would let his kid play with the key bundle for an hour and then track him down, beat his ass, and double his training tomorrow. Well, then, he might as well get some work done in the meantime¡­


    ***


    Neave marched furiously into the library building and walked into the first floor. His father was an idiot.


    Not just an idiot, but an arrogant idiot at that. Neave felt it was a long shot, but he hoped his father would let him take the keys.


    After all, what could Neave possibly do with his keys?


    There was no way a sect master would use just any old keys to protect their secrets. However, his father wasn¡¯t just an arrogant idiot. He was also a forgetful idiot. Neave had both told him and proven that he had read every book in the library.


    His father had pushed him too far this time, and Neave wasn¡¯t planning to let this go. He strolled down some of the more forgotten isles of the library until he reached a peculiar shelf. This shelf held the tax reports for the empire. These tax reports, however, were fake. He read through them, and the numbers didn¡¯t add up.


    Neave pulled one of the books off and heard a click. Then he opened the secret door hiding behind the shelf. And then he entered¡­


    The room that held the actual tax reports.


    And a whole lot of incriminating evidence for tax evasion.


    Neave would gladly blackmail his father, but even he knew that nobody would believe an eleven-year-old that they¡¯ve uncovered evidence of tax evasion. So he strolled towards one of the shelves, pulled another book off, and discovered a small hatch with a keyhole behind it.


    This was the real secret of this room. And Neave thought that one of the keys looked like it fit perfectly. He was right.


    Neave had no idea what hid behind this door. Maybe this would help him deal with his father, and perhaps it wouldn¡¯t. Regardless, Neave knew one thing.


    This was his last hope of defying his father''s wishes.


    He grabbed the key, slid it into the lock, and turned it.


    Click¡­


    Creak¡­


    The large shelf-door groaned as Neave pulled it open, and he walked into the secret chamber. And there he found¡­ Darkness. A very dark corridor that stretched deep into the mountain.


    Neave swallowed and took a few steps forward.


    Nothing. So it wasn¡¯t warded.


    Neave felt confident he wouldn''t find any wards in the hallway. If you wanted to protect something, you used qi locks to lock it away and qi formations to ward it. However, if you wanted to hide something, it was best not to use qi at all. Qi could be sensed even behind obstacles, but few, even among the greatest experts, could see through mundane walls.


    He gathered whatever bravery, bravado, and anger at his father he could and marched forward. A couple of minutes later, he encountered a turn in the hallway. A turn that led into a room.


    Neave froze.


    The room was small. It was almost entirely dark, save for a single light source in the middle¡ªa book. A dark crimson book hung in the middle of the room, restrained by chains of platinum and gold. The chains were inscribed with runes that gave Neave a headache just looking at them and the book itself¡­


    It was so beautiful. Neave had never seen anything as beautiful as this book in his life. He¡¯d give his life to read this book. He would sell his very soul. If only he could¡­


    ¡­And then it was too late.


    Neave had failed to notice that he was walking closer to the book, and now he held it, "Shit!"


    This was no ordinary object. It had some supernatural allure that drove Neave to get close to it. However, by the time he regained his composure, he had already touched it. And now, after he let it go, he noticed the thin stream of red smoke flowing from the book into his hand.


    "Fuck, shit, fuck, get it off!" He shook his hand madly, but it was useless.


    The book slowly evaporated, and the red smoke all flowed into his body. The chains holding the book clattered to the ground, leaving him in the darkness. His heart pounded in his chest, and his body dripped with sweat.


    The rest of what happened was a blur.


    He ran out of the dark corridor, sprinted past the door, and left the bundle of keys behind.


    Neave hadn¡¯t even closed the secret chamber behind him as he bolted out of the library. The flow of blood was like a raging river rushing through his ears. The sect disciples were in the middle of making their way toward the courtyard for the daily training.


    Neave bumped into several of them. Most ignored him and swore to hunt him down later for a beating. Few among the disciples were willing to be late for the daily training. But some were.


    Several of the disciples Neave had bumped into turned back and chased him through the crowds. The adrenaline rushing through his body and his slight frame let him quickly make his way through while the disciples chasing him had to dodge around and gradually move forward. After all, if they bumped into a senior cultivator, they¡¯d likely receive a sound thrashing themselves.


    Once Neave entered an empty stretch in the hallway, he ran, turning several times and taking the path that was closest to his room. The disciples after him made a few wrong turns and had to backtrack, but eventually, all that separated them from Neave was a clear stretch through a hallway.


    Neave barely reached his room before the gang of angry disciples caught up with him.


    He wrapped himself in his blankets and shivered. His peers pounded on his doors. They yelled at Neave to open them. Neave couldn¡¯t hear anything except the roaring of his heartbeat and hyperventilating breath. Eventually, the disciples left. It took Neave hours to calm down.


    Nothing happened¡­ That means it¡¯s okay... Right?


    He desperately wished, but he cursed the rational part of him that knew. The library was rich in stories about artifacts like these, and there was no way he had made anything short of a terrible mistake. But he suppressed these thoughts. He let himself be lost in delusions and excuses.


    It will be okay¡­


    This will be fine¡­


    ¡­


    Nobody will find out.


    Neave cursed himself for that thought as moments later, he heard it. The gongs echoed through the mountains. The sect had sounded the alarm for the emergency gathering of all sect disciples.


    Neave wanted to stay here. He was desperately pleading with himself not to leave his room. But he couldn¡¯t remain. Unless you had a damn good reason for it, refusing to answer the emergency gathering alarm was treated the same as treason.


    So he got up, left his room, and walked to the sect courtyard. With every step, Neave felt like his legs would stop working. Eventually, however, he had reached the meeting, one of the last few to arrive. Many disciples glared at him, but he didn¡¯t even notice them.


    The elders impatiently waited for everyone to gather. Neave stepped up into line and made eye contact with his father.


    His father looked at him, eyes wide open as he mouthed the words, Son, what have you done?


    "Attention, disciples, seniors, and elders of the Zearthorn sect! A great crisis had befallen us!" One of the elders stepped in front and started yelling in a desperate, pleading tone, "An important treasure had been stolen, or perhaps even worse, released. This treasure was one of our sect''s greatest secrets, but it is an artifact of such danger and significance that I must disclose its contents! If you see anyone carrying or hiding a dark crimson tome, immediately report this to any elder you find!


    ¡°If you have stolen this book, do not be a fool and return it at once! It is no great cultivation manual! It is a cursed tome that brings nothing but death! Anyone who as much as touches the tome directly¡­


    "... Has mere hours left to live!"


    Neave wanted to scream. He tried, but his voice was gone.


    And the world, too, was fading away as his body fell to the ground.

 Chapter 3 - Hell

    There was a way to tell how much time had passed when one fell asleep. Not down to an hour, but it was possible to feel it. The mind might just be extrapolating how much time passed based on how high the sun was or the individual¡¯s sleeping habits.


    When Neave opened his eyes, he felt like an eternity had passed since he died. It wasn¡¯t like falling asleep. It didn¡¯t resemble passing out. There was an element of oblivion that severed his existence. Now he had arrived at a place he could only describe in a single word.


    Hell.


    When he finally opened his eyes, he was standing upright. He felt relatively well rested. There was no fatigue, no muscular pain, no hunger, and no thirst. He still felt the vague aches his body had suffered from all the beatings, but it was nothing unusual. Neave, however, noticed none of this. The only thing he felt was panic.


    And despair.


    Gray, smoggy clouds clouded the sky with a red, backlit by an ominous red glow. The ground was rusty red, with pools of noxious liquids scattered here and there. In the distance, there were impossibly tall, jagged mountains. There was no growth, only obsidian bushes with sharp, twisted branches¡ªthe air stank of sulfur, blood, and smoke.


    And rot.


    Slowly shambling toward him was a creature. A vaguely humanoid creature with gray, rough skin, no eyes, and a large, toothy mouth. Neave had read many books covering mythological subjects, and only one creature that fit the description.


    A demon.


    Neave ran. He sprinted as fast as he could away from the thing chasing him. As he dashed, he dodged pools of blood, rifts in the ground, abysses with jagged spikes protruding the walls with green, glowing gasses filling their depths.


    He looked back constantly. He was putting the demon further behind him. Neave neither relented nor slowed down. Instead, he constantly darted his eyes over the environment, looking for whatever other monstrosities might show up.


    But there was nothing.


    The adrenaline wore off at a certain point, and he collapsed onto the putrid, dusty soil on a small hill. He gasped for breath, choked on the toxic dust, and took a second to calm down. The demon was far out of sight at this point. There seemed to be nothing else chasing him.


    For now.


    The sense of despair deepened as he looked around the hellscape.


    No matter what direction, all he saw were the endless, rolling hills jagged with spiky stone and obsidian growth. The only notable landmarks made the feelings of misery worse.


    Mountains so tall they disappeared into the smoky atmosphere. Pools and lakes of blood, pus, acid, and black ooze. Massive rifts into shimmering, glowing abysses filled with spikes, gas, or pure darkness.


    He was thirsty. Neave felt parched from the dry air. There was no water anywhere in sight. His desperation drove him to lick the sweat off his arms. He searched around his robes and didn¡¯t find the food pills either. Had he dropped them?


    Neave had no idea where to begin. What to do from here? Where to go? He sat there frozen, desperately searching for a plan; for any shred of hope he could latch on to.


    This place had no sense of time. Nothing but thirst and exhaustion could even begin to clue Neave in about how long he had been here.


    Just as he thought he couldn¡¯t get any more desperate, he noticed a small black dot moving toward him. The creature was catching up.


    Neave wanted to cry, but no water could wet his eyes. They hurt as he whimpered and got up.


    He ran in the other direction. Neave stumbled into pools of blood and tripped over the sharp shrubbery, cutting his legs. He bled precious drops and felt them dripping down, mixing with the putrid blood.


    Several times, he just barely avoided dropping into pits of certain death.


    He couldn''t tell if he''d been running for hours or days.


    And the thirst was driving him insane.


    He felt his body stiffening. His eyes were so dehydrated his vision blurred. It was becoming impossible to breathe. The desperation finally got the better of him, and he took a small sip from a pool of blood. It tasted of despair, rot, and death. He got up and walked. His footsteps slowed. He dragged himself forward, losing all feeling, first in his arms, then his legs, and finally, his stomach.


    Neave gagged. He raised his shaky hand and touched the near-black blood dripping from his mouth.


    Was it his blood? Or the blood he drank?


    Or was it both?


    It doesn¡¯t matter anyway.


    He thought as he fell over face-first to the ground.


    Dead.


    When he finally opened his eyes, he was standing upright. He felt relatively well rested. There was no fatigue, no muscular pain, no hunger, and no thirst. He still felt the vague aches his body had suffered from all the beatings, but it was nothing unusual. Neave, however, noticed none of this. The only thing he felt was panic.


    After all, he was back in the beginning. The demon slowly stumbled towards him. Tears ran down his face. He was rehydrated. He was in one piece.


    And had to go through all of that again.


    Neave ran. He ran like mad, clumsily fumbling over a rock and dropping into a pit. A jagged spike ran through his head, killing him instantly..


    And then he woke up. He was standing in the same place again. He felt madness creep into his mind, threatening to tear his soul into pieces. And then, yet again, he started running. He ran and ran as far as he could until he slipped off a rock and broke his neck. He didn¡¯t die instantly but sat there, crumpled and broken, as his life slowly drained from his eyes.


    And then woke up again. Ran. Fell into a pool of acid. Died.


    And then woke up again. Ran. Then he died from thirst.


    And then woke up again. Ran. Fell into a pit of poisonous gas. Died.


    And then woke up again. Ran. The skies broke, and it started raining black ooze. It solidified on his skin, and he suffocated, unable to move or breathe. He died.


    Drowned in a river of blood.


    Impaled on obsidian thorns.


    Melted by acid rain.


    Time and time again, he woke up at the same start, ran in a random direction, and found nothing but new ways to die. But he went back every time. And ran. He explored every bit of land he could reach before dying.


    After some time, he no longer fell into pits. He no longer tripped or stumbled into spiky bushes of death. He realized that when he died, the same events happened in the same order, so he knew where it would rain blood, acid, tar, or pus and avoided those places. But he could not outrun exhaustion or thirst.


    He looked into his robes. The bottle of food pills wasn¡¯t there even at the start.


    His desperation clawed at him. He felt his misery deepening endlessly as the agony threatened to tear him apart. He ran at the demon and swung at it in his desperation. His tantrum punches were like soft taps on the demon¡¯s tough flesh. It pulled its arm back and clawed his chest out.


    Neave died from the injury, but in his stubbornness, he ran at the demon again.


    It grabbed his head.


    "No¡­ Please¡­"


    Its claws sank into Neave¡¯s skull, and the demon violently pulled his head off.


    Neave looked at the demon again, shaking and stepping back in terror. He vividly remembered the feeling of his spine being pulled out of his back, and he screamed.


    He sprinted away again, finding the same deaths lurking behind every corner. The demon was an ever-present threat stalking him in the distance, but it could only move so quickly. Eventually, he ran slower, so he could make it further before the exhaustion and thirst caught up. Then he walked instead, slowly, in every direction. He had even more time like this and was still faster than the demon.


    So he walked, now reaching further and discovering more. Eventually, the discoveries dried up. The same deaths repeated enough times to become¡­ Dull.


    The never-ending torrent of suffering eventually subsided. The constant feeling of terror and dread got weaker and weaker as Neave habituated.


    So he slowed down.


    He slowed down until he was walking barely faster than the demon.


    Then he slowed down until the demon was walking faster than he was.


    The demon slashed at his back with sharp claws, tearing Neave¡¯s back open. Neave yelped. The demon tore him apart, and he perished.


    He appeared before the demon again, taking a few steps back purely out of habit. The demon grabbed his neck and bit his head off.


    Once he appeared before the demon again, he stood and shivered as the last vestiges of his motivation escaped him. The demon thrust its claws into his heart.


    When he finally opened his eyes again, he was standing upright. He felt relatively well rested. There was no fatigue, no muscular pain, no hunger, and no thirst. He still felt the vague aches his body had suffered from all the beatings, but it was nothing unusual. Neave, however, noticed none of this. Not the demon walking towards him either. Not his impending doom.


    The doomsday pendulum of perpetual motion completed another swing, and the reaper smiled, running laps around him.


    Neave just stood there. He stood as the demon tore him apart. But he felt not the claws sinking into his flesh, not the teeth biting into his skin.


    When he finally opened his eyes¡­


    He no longer felt anything at all.


    ***


    Neave had noticed he was in some sort of trance. His thoughts were few and far between, but he still thought sometimes. He wondered how long he had been here. He wondered how his father, his siblings, and everyone was doing.


    He at least hoped Hunter had died. Torn apart by some monster or failed a spirit trial. Deep within him, his darkest thoughts wanted nothing but suffering for those who tormented him. And soon enough, even those thoughts faded away¡­


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    He didn¡¯t know how long it had been. He couldn¡¯t. You could tell when a day had passed because the sun had risen and set. There was no sun here. Or a moon. Or time. The same thing happened over and over and over and over, looping endlessly in circles. Had it been months since he had arrived here?


    Years? Decades? He couldn¡¯t confidently say anything.


    Neave wasn¡¯t moving, but the demon still walked differently each time. Just a tiny little bit. It was unusual and not very useful information. Did this mean it wasn¡¯t time that reset, but rather the entire world and himself were just returned to the same position?


    Maybe time didn¡¯t work how the scholars thought it did. Perhaps things would still turn out differently if someone could go back in time, even if they didn¡¯t change anything. Was it chance? Maybe it was the interference of chaos. Who knew? Who cared?


    Neave honestly felt this wasn¡¯t particularly torturous. Not anymore at least. He was so used to pain and discomfort of every single type that this felt tame. It was ironic that now when he cared the least, he enjoyed his time here the most. Nihilism was an absurd philosophy, so thought Neave of before.


    But now?


    The demon would stumble toward him clumsily, taking about a minute or so to arrive, and then kill him in a few short seconds at most. Sometimes instantly with a well-placed strike.


    That meant that most of his time here, he didn¡¯t feel hungry, thirsty, tired, or injured.


    He didn¡¯t feel anything.


    The smell no longer bothered him either. If he put it into a ratio, his experience here would equal mostly comfortable plus a minor bit of pain every few minutes. It was so ironic. This ratio was almost better than his life before this nightmarish loop.


    After he spent an ultimately unknowable amount of time standing idly, pondering, and just staring straight ahead, a stray idea crossed his mind. One that he had a few times before but was far too scared to try and put into practice.


    What if he tried killing the demon?


    He had suppressed this thought every time it passed his mind. He still vividly remembered how he felt when the demon pulled his head off the first time. But he couldn¡¯t bring himself to feel that same terror again. The demon had killed him so many times in so many different ways that even that was just another death.


    Just another grain of sand in the endless desert of demise.


    As the demon approached him for the umpteenth time, Neave tried moving. And failed. It was like he had forgotten what mental commands were supposed to move which muscle, so all he could do was awkwardly stiffen up before the demon killed him.


    Restart.


    Neave kept trying to move again, but it felt awkward. Strange. He¡¯d try to move his left hand but he¡¯d turn his head right. He would try to move his legs forward but leaned backward.


    Restart.


    However, he slowly figured it out, and the demon approached him for the third time.


    He dodged.


    And then he got struck again immediately afterward.


    Restart.


    By now, he had already slowly figured out how to walk, kind of. It was even clumsier than the demon¡¯s fumbling, but he improved as he got into practice. Rather than run at the demon, he went for a stroll, reminiscing about his early days of running around the hellscape.


    It was strange, looking at it now. He still remembered the endless terror he experienced, repeatedly dying through this landscape. Now he just felt curiosity and fascination. This place was kind of neat to both his inner and his outer child.


    It seemed like the home of some demonic emperor or great monstrosity. Perhaps the realm of an evil god or a devil? Who knew? He may even eventually find out.


    For now, he felt he¡¯d done a good enough job relearning how to move and contemplated returning to the demon. He realized he was already somewhat tired, and looking for the demon was a pain so¡­ He just jumped into a pit.


    Restart.


    Facing off against the demon now, he pondered his options. He first walked up to the demon and tried to throw a punch.


    Restart.


    Well, that was pointless. Neave not only sucked at fighting, but he was also incredibly weak. Not even just weak, but his body was light, which meant his barehanded fighting had almost no momentum behind it. The demon was no pushover either. Its walk may seem clumsy, but it was perfectly capable of tearing him to pieces.


    So Neave looked for a weapon instead. He picked up a rock and threw it at the demon¡¯s head. The demon paused for a fraction of a second, clearly affected by the blow. That was a good sign. Neave just walked backward, carefully so he wouldn¡¯t step into anything unpleasant, and threw rocks at the demon.


    Quite the cowardly fight this was, but Neave honestly enjoyed himself. It felt like payback for all the torment he¡¯d suffered at the demon''s hands. He almost wondered why he hadn¡¯t done this before. The rational part of him knew why.


    He was a damn kid. Naturally, he would be terrified of a place like this. It was easy to be brave now after he¡¯d gotten used to everything. But the proud part of Neave still felt like he was a coward back then.


    After pelting the poor demon with rocks for a while, Neave was tired of it. The demon looked¡­ Bruised? It was hard to say; its entire body already had a grayish bruised hue, but he could swear that the demon''s skin was looking darker now. However, one thing was quite evident. The demon was tough. Exceptionally so. Neave intentionally picked jagged, sharp rocks, but it looked like nothing he had thrown so far had pierced the demon''s skin.


    Neave himself, however, was in a terrible state. His soft, weak hands were chaffed, and his arms were sore. Even though he¡¯d thrown countless rocks at the demon, the only thing he¡¯d achieved by the end was slow the demon down a little. Eventually, his shoulder locked up. By then, he was already too tired and thirsty to keep fighting, so he let the demon finish him off.


    Restart.


    This time he took a different approach. He grabbed a bigger rock and threw it at one of the obsidian bushes. The crash sounded like a pile of glass getting thrown off a hill. Its branches were jagged and sharp, so after shattering the bush into pieces, he carefully picked out one of the larger branches with a spiky end and tried using it as a weapon against the demon.


    His earlier assessment that the demon was tough got a massive confirmation. The sharp edge of the obsidian branch was no joke, but it still barely pierced the demon''s skin. It hadn''t even drawn blood, assuming it had any. This was still progress, however, even though the demon knocked Neave¡¯s weapon away with relative ease and tore his throat out.


    Restart.


    He was repeating the same strategy this time, but he tried cutting where he assumed the demon''s weak points might be. His first target was the jugular vein. To Neave¡¯s great surprise, this time the demon dodged his strike.


    Dodge might be too strong a word, maybe just ¡®leaned to the side¡¯ of his strike would be more accurate. That was still massive progress in Neave¡¯s book. Neave¡¯s surprise however proved to be an unwelcome distraction.


    Restart.


    This time Neave was relentless. He kept pacing backward, punishing the demon. Neave used its defensive reflex against itself, capitalizing on its tendency to move away to get a clear shot at its torso. The demon leaned too far back, and Neave put his whole body into striking its stomach.


    The tip of the branch pierced its skin, causing a bit of red blood to flow out. Huh, so it bled red¡­ For some reason, Neave hadn''t expected that, nor had he foreseen the demon''s violent reflex to its injury. It grabbed his arm, pulled him towards itself, and sank its claws into his face.


    Restart.


    Neave kept repeating the same strategy and felt like he was progressing.


    Not enough, however. At a certain point, he felt himself stagnating. The demon was just that much stronger than he was. It was faster, tougher, and heavier. Its claws were a much more reliable weapon than Neave¡¯s obsidian branch, which kept breaking or cutting his own hands.


    Neave was no warrior and he had no idea how to use a weapon. Through improvisation, trial, and error, he could perhaps eventually develop some sort of martial art, but he was quickly losing hope that it would matter. The biggest problem was his lack of physical weight and the poor quality of his weapons.


    Not to mention the fact that every time Neave died, he went back in time. That meant there was no progress of any kind regarding his physical strength. While he could injure the demon, no matter how many shallow cuts he landed, his opponent simply refused to die.


    He had even finally managed to land a strike on what looked like a major artery. The demon bled profusely for a couple of seconds, but the bleeding slowed. It seemed like he¡¯d have to land a much better strike several times to kill the demon.


    Maybe that would be plausible with a better weapon, but the fucking shitty branches kept breaking. So he instead dropped the stick and decided to try a different strategy.


    He ran from the demon until he reached a steep incline. Then he climbed until he reached a foothold, grabbed the largest rock he could pick up, and threw it down on the demon''s head. The resounding thunk made Neave feel like the demon''s skull must have cracked open, and the demon collapsed onto the ground. However, it quickly got up to its feet.


    This stubborn¡­


    Before it had the time to get up, Neave was already grabbing another stone and throwing it. The demon blocked the rock with its arm. Neave paused in shock and grabbed another one. The demon had already gotten up by now and was already walking forward. Neave threw the stone down at the demon, but it smacked it aside with its arm.


    At this moment, Neave realized he was stuck halfway up a steep incline, and his only two options were to jump off and break his legs or get killed by the demon. He looked for another rock to throw at the demon but found none. His rock-resistant nemesis was already climbing up the hill.


    Oh well¡­


    Restart.


    Neave decided to change his strategy again. He led the demon toward a somewhat deep pool of blood. Then he approached it and tried pushing it in.


    Restart.


    That was a stupid idea. This time, rather than pushing the demon into the pool of blood, he grabbed a branch and used it to push its head. The demon was too heavy for a small child to topple, so Neave tried to get it out of balance by striking its jugular vein, which usually got it to lean backward.


    Restart.


    And also retaliate by caving Neave¡¯s skull in.


    Brilliant.


    Now this time, Neave picked up a relatively heavy rock, baited the demon over to a pool, and threw the large stone at its head. To Neave¡¯s tremendous surprise, this managed to topple the demon backward, and it fell into the pool of blood. And then it just swam out.


    "Okay, what the hell! I¡¯m certain the blood is poisonous! Your big stupid gaping mouth must have gurgled half a basin of it in there! Don¡¯t you dare try getting back out"


    Neave angrily stomped over to the demon and kicked its face to get it back into the pool. The demon opened its gaping maw, bit Neave¡¯s leg, and dragged him into the pool.


    Restart.


    "That¡¯s how you want to play, huh?"


    This time, rather than pushing the demon into a pool of blood, he instead tried to get the demon to step close to the ledge of a pit. However, the demon simply refused to get baited into doing that.


    "Okay, what the fucking shit now? Are you afraid of heights or something, you pussy? Huh? The big tough demon can¡¯t handle a little hole?" Neave was furious. He walked over to the demon, jumped, and slapped it on its bald head.


    Restart.


    Now this time, he¡¯d get the demon. He would push the demon into a tar pit rather than a blood pool. He got the demon into position, threw a rock at its head, and it fell into the pool.


    "Ha¡­ Hahaha. Hahahahaha! Serves you right! You fucking bitch. Eat my shit." He then pulled his robes back and swung his backside at the demon with a flourish.


    It rolled around in the pit of black liquid, clearly struggling to move but still alive. And to Neave¡¯s great distress, it started crawling back out onto the surface.


    "No, no, no, no, back. BACK!" Neave pushed the demon into the pit with his entire body.


    However, the black ooze hardened, and he got stuck to the demon. The demon slowly moved its hand to Neave¡¯s neck and strangled him.


    Restart.


    Neave repeated the same thing. However, this time, instead of pushing the demon back, he let it walk back out. He forgot that the ooze hardened when exposed to air, so the demon would just get trapped and suffocate.


    Which was exactly what happened. Well, the trapped part did, at least for a while. The demon got encased in the now solid black substance, but it shuffled in its black shell until it crumbled away and started walking over to Neave again. Neave jumped into the pool of tar.


    Restart.


    This time, rather than let the demon leave, Neave had decided he would pile stones up onto the demon to keep it from leaving the pool. He did that, but the demon just refused to die. It didn''t need any air, so all he achieved was trapping it. As the demon wiggled around for a long time in the black pool, Neave realized he would die from thirst again before the demon drowned.


    Sigh¡­


    He wasn¡¯t out of ideas, however. This time, he had replicated the same thing with a pool of acid. After the demon casually swam back out it looked¡­ Shiny. Brand new, even.


    Neave realized that the demon was dirty. And the pool of acid was little more than a lovely bath. Its dirty, discolored gray was now replaced with a much prettier metallic color. Neave jumped, this time into the pool of acid.


    Restart.


    Not one of the things he had tried so far had worked. Was this demon immortal? He had to wonder. He could have also tried throwing it into the pool of pus, but he didn¡¯t hold very high hopes for that.


    It would be pretty funny, though.


    Spite moved Neave¡¯s heart, and he thought back to the closest pool of pus. They were significantly rarer than all the other liquids. There was one relatively nearby after crossing that suspension bridge. It was a bit of a jog but...


    ¡­


    Wait a minute.


    The suspension bridge! How had he forgotten about that!? He just had to cut the ropes if he could get the demon to walk onto the suspension bridge!


    The suspension bridge hung over a long ravine that stretched into the horizon in both directions. Neave peeked down into the canyon, failing to see the bottom of it. Quite a few jagged spikes were protruding from the walls. If his plan worked, the demon would be sliced apart and torn to bits.


    Neave moved over to the other side of the bridge and waited with trepidation.


    It approached. And took a step onto the bridge. Then another. And then another. And Neave then, with one of the obsidian branches, cut the ropes. The demon plummeted into the abyss below. Neave saw it fly into a jagged spike as it tore its side out. The demon fell a bit further down, what remained of its body impaled on a sharp protrusion.


    It didn¡¯t move. Neave shook in joy. He finally¡­


    Step¡­


    Step¡­


    Neave turned around.


    There were two demons, just like the first one, walking toward him.


    Restart.

 Chapter 4 - Eternity

    Neave felt no despair. No, he just felt¡­


    Jaded.


    Tired.


    And disappointed.


    He had tried countless methods to kill the next two demons. He even managed to prepare an elaborate trap for the first demon. He threw several rocks, one after another, at its head until it finally stumbled far enough to drop into the ravine. Then he wanted to cut the rope to kill the two demons that appeared afterward.


    They refused to step onto the bridge simultaneously, no matter how he tried. Perhaps it would be possible to prepare an elaborate trap for one if the other was killed by the drop into the ravine. But no matter how he tried, he was either stuck with one demon across the canyon that could no longer be crossed or both demons right next to him.


    These two were also clearly a little faster and stronger than the first demon. They also seemed a lot more cautious. It was much more challenging trying to trick them into doing anything. He couldn¡¯t even bait them into getting thrown into one of the pools.


    During one of his attempts, he had managed to kill both demons entirely by accident. The suspension bridge dropped, and one of the ropes caught the demon''s foot on the other side. Neave almost shouted in joy.


    His voice was caught in his throat as three demons appeared behind him. One of them sprinted at him and killed him almost instantly.


    If killing the two demons was possible, then killing those three wasn¡¯t.


    A small voice in his head had asked why he was doing this and another, even smaller voice responded.


    Because of boredom, of course!


    But this was a lie.


    The reality was that Neave, deep down, had hoped that killing the demons was the point of being here. That this was all an illusion and that killing them would make him finally wake up. He would see his father''s dumb grin, get beat up by Hunter and the other disciples, and look for a way to avoid marrying a man.


    His story would unfold. There would be ups and downs, some things would work out, and others would not.


    But he would live his life nonetheless.


    Currently, he didn¡¯t feel as if he were alive. This place was the antithesis of life, yet failed to be death nonetheless.


    Even if Neave considered himself to be extremely cynical, there was no way he believed this was actually the afterlife. It was a world created by the book.


    Neave found himself back at the start once again. He went over to the suspension bridge and cut the ropes before the demon could reach him. Then he walked just beyond a hill so he wouldn¡¯t have to look at that wretched thing. He stared out into the horizon. Neave had explored even beyond what he could see from where he was sitting.


    But there was nothing to be found.


    This was a lonely world where the demon was his only company. Neave didn¡¯t have any friends in the sect, but there were a few among the older disciples that treated him with a semblance of kindness. He would give anything to see one of them again.


    The skies crackled with the occasional bit of lightning. Soon, the place where Neave sat would start raining blood.


    Neave contemplated the nature of this realm. He concluded there was sufficient evidence to support one of his theories. This place was some form of trial. A trial for cultivators. He remembered the elder saying that those who touched this book died.


    It made perfect sense.


    That meant that those who failed lost their life.


    Neave considered himself to be a scholar. And true scholars, besides the vast knowledge they had gathered, also held their own theories. Neave believed that nothing could last forever.


    Infinity wasn¡¯t a viable concept.


    Eventually, this place would release its grip on him and he would be free. So he would wait.


    He didn¡¯t know what would happen, but he steeled his resolve. At least that¡¯s what he wanted to believe. It was more like his resolve had been thoroughly eliminated. The resolve to try. The resolve to move.


    The resolve to think.


    So he didn¡¯t. He tried not, he moved not, he thought not, and soon his soul drifted back into that same trance he had found himself in once before¡­


    ***


    This time around, stray thoughts came even more rarely. His mind felt like a fire that had thoroughly run out of fuel.


    Chance, however, threw a piece of coal onto the dying embers. The demon tripped over a rock. It hadn''t fallen, but it just stumbled a bit awkwardly before it regained its balance.


    Even if the movements of the demon were random, something like this had never happened before. The demon stumbled awkwardly a bit too far to the side and encountered a small rock.


    And then it tripped over it. It had been near that rock many times before, but this was the first time Neave had ever seen it trip. For a few moments, he felt the pull, the temptation to move and think, but alas, the embers died out once again.


    ***


    The demon tripped over the same rock many times. Neave had a stray thought or two about this phenomenon. One of the things he felt was apparent was that this happening was extremely rare. The were so many ways the demon could stumble toward him that walking over to that exact rock was exceptionally unlikely. Not to mention that the vast, overwhelming majority of times it walked in a more or less straight line.


    However, despite its rarity, it happened¡­ Dozens? Hundreds of times? He hadn¡¯t counted but he knew it was many. This must mean that a frightening amount of time had passed. Or might have passed. It wasn¡¯t easy, or even really possible to determine the passage of time.


    There was no convenient hourglass sitting by Neave¡¯s desk anymore.


    The demon stumbled on the rock many times, and something unusual happened again. The demon trudged over to the rock, tripped on it, then stepped on another rock, one even further from its usual range of movement, and tripped again. It didn¡¯t fall to the ground even after that but it shook Neave up a bit nonetheless. Something new happened. Neave ignored it once again and settled back into the trance¡­


    ***


    The embers of thought were nearly thoroughly gone. They had been waning for so long. The demon had tripped on the rock and even on the other rock again numerous times. Nothing was moving Neave. Nothing was rousing him anymore. The demon walked up to Neave, swung its claws, and crushed his head.


    Restart.


    Then it went back to the start. It walked. It walked toward Neave, stumbling along. But it leaned a bit to the side. And then again. And then again. It stepped on a solitary rock sitting on the outer edges of the path it usually took when approaching Neave.


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    And it tripped.


    It stumbled, outside of its usual range of movement. There it stepped on another jagged rock and tripped once more, stumbling further. It had stumbled far, a lot further than it usually stumbled when it tripped on the second rock and it stepped on a third rock. This time it tripped and fell face-first into a small puddle of black ooze.


    Neave didn¡¯t notice anything at first. But then, an unusual sensation washed over him. It was taking too long.


    Why was it taking so long?


    He would usually have ideas, he would think, and he would contemplate, but his mind felt heavy. Like a muscle that hadn¡¯t moved once in a hundred years, his mind just felt weak. Let alone thinking, just perceiving what was happening felt like a chore.


    But the strange sensation kept piling up. The gaping hole of the demon''s absence burned bigger and bigger as Neave¡¯s mind spun. Then he perceived what he was seeing.


    The demon was¡­ Gone?


    Perhaps, he would have thought he had finally failed the trial, but such a thought was far too complex for his weak mind. His thoughts instead went something like this:


    No demon. Demon gone. Where demon? Dunno. How possible?


    Hours passed, but Neave still stared catatonically ahead. Eventually, his legs got tired and he fell to the ground. He reflexively got up. Then finally, he noticed something in the corner of his vision.


    The demon was stuck.


    It had fallen over head first into a puddle of black ooze. The ooze had long solidified and it was stuck awkwardly fumbling and trying to get out. Half of its head and both of its arms were stuck inside the solidified ooze. The problem was that its awkward position had simply made it impossible to put any real force into anything but pushing itself further into the puddle.


    And Neave stared at it. His head was vacant of any complex thought, but as if by instinct¡­


    "Pfft!"


    He snorted. Then he chuckled. Then he laughed. He tried walking over to the demon, but he had completely forgotten how to do that.


    Neave laughed, choking and wheezing, as he flopped around like a fish on dry land, trying to figure out how to move closer to the demon. Eventually, he developed something of an inept crawl and squirmed over to the demon.


    "You stupid poopy head. Poopy head poopy head, HA-HA! What a dummy!" He got up to his feet and smacked the demon''s bald head a few times.


    The meaty thud felt satisfying, so he kept doing it, eventually drumming a rhythm and singing along, "La-la la-la la-la-la, dummy demon, dummy butt! Got his face stuck in the mud!"


    At this point, the demon desperately tried to extract itself from its predicament, but to no avail. The claws on its feet had thoroughly plowed the soft soil behind it, and it was failing to get any grip. After he laughed his ass off, Neave¡¯s mind had finally caught up with the intelligence of at least a four-year-old.


    "What the hell am I doing?" He wondered and then sat on the demon''s head, much to its displeasure.


    This wasn¡¯t a rhetorical question, either. He was genuinely trying to puzzle out what he was doing. His mind was still half asleep from the absolute lack of use. Just perceiving things felt hard. He struggled to form associations. Everything around him was just shapes and colors.


    "... Dirt?" Yes, he thought to himself, this indeed was dirt, but weird dirt.


    Too red.


    Wait, was that not how dirt was supposed to look? He then tried remembering what dirt was supposed to look like. And then it finally hit him. Like a dam shattering, his mind flooded with thoughts.


    He remembered his name, who he was, and where he was and then asked again, "Okay, what the fuck am I doing?" This time the question was indeed rhetorical.


    He got off the demon¡¯s head and looked around. He didn¡¯t perceive the demon falling over so he had no idea how this whole thing happened.


    "How long has it been?" He tried to piece together anything about how long he¡¯d been here but to no avail.


    His scholarly mind, however, really wanted to find out.


    Neave tried estimating the time he had been here but lacked information. That wasn¡¯t unusual. He was well aware that time was inestimable in these circumstances. But he felt a strong need to figure it out.


    He thought back to the demon''s behavior and frowned. The demon walked straight at him almost every single time. Deviating from a straight line was uncommon, very much so. And straying far enough to trip on the rock was exceptionally rare.


    He left the demon to its struggling and ran over to where he started the loop. He marked the position with a large stone and walked over to where the demon started. Neave then took a step forward. And then another.


    He frowned.


    How did the demon walk again? He thought he remembered it, but he never really paid that much attention to its walking pattern. After a quick bath in a nearby pool of acid, he returned to the start.


    Restart.


    Rather than waiting for the demon to reach him, he sprinted toward the demon as quickly as he could, then walked backward. He kept the same tempo as the demon, observing its feet the entire time.


    The demon''s gait was clumsy, and its steps were imprecise. Every time it took a step, there was a small deviation from where it would land if it walked perfectly. Neave rated these deviations as minuscule, minor, moderate, major, and massive. It took him two loops of observing the demon walk to get a good estimate of their probabilities.


    He messed up on the first loop by letting it walk far longer than the usual walk from its starting position to Neave¡¯s starting position. The problem was that the ground at the start was far smoother and flatter than further out. This meant that the pattern in which its step deviated changed due to the rougher surface, and the probabilities of its respective deviations also changed.


    So he instead just observed the demon walk in circles within the range of the demon¡¯s start to Neave¡¯s start. He felt somewhat satisfied with the numbers he got, so he moved on to phase two. He led the demon over to a pit of black ooze, pushed it into it, and then piled rocks onto it to prevent it from leaving.


    Then he walked over to the demon''s start. Neave took a step. The step was of average length for the demon and just a little above moderate deviation to the side. That''s how he walked over to the rock the demon had tripped on. It took roughly thirteen such steps. Then he took the probability of slightly below moderate deviation. He halved it because it was only towards one side and calculated the probability of the demon walking over to the rock.


    His mind froze.


    No¡­ it can¡¯t be.


    That had to be impossible.


    For the first time in forever, Neave panicked. After all, the odds of that happening were less than one in ten trillion. Okay, those were the odds of that specific sequence of steps happening, but the added odds of other combinations of deviations had to be more probable, right?


    Yes, but not by much. Well, yes, by much, but even such immense numbers didn¡¯t really matter on this scale.


    Even if he went as far as to assume that the odds of the demon reaching this rock were only one in a million, what about tripping on it? He had seen the demon walk over to this rock several times without tripping once.


    Then he had seen it trip over the rock countless times, possibly hundreds, maybe even thousands. No, he even saw the demon tripping over the second rock hundreds of times, only the heavens knew how many times it had tripped on the first stone.


    He looked ahead and saw the third stone, just between the second stone and the pond. He didn¡¯t know whether to laugh or cry. That was what the demon tripped on!? Neave calculated that he must have been here for twenty thousand years, even by the most conservative estimates. The craziest estimates?


    Quadrillions of years.


    So he laughed. He cackled like a lunatic and pulled his hair out of his scalp.


    There was no hope.


    If the artifact could keep him contained that long, it could keep him here forever. After all, there were no signs that anything was changing. If this artifact had created this reality, then it was still going strong enough that Neave couldn''t see any damage to the structure of space. Did this mean that he would be kept here for all eternity?


    A chilling thought crossed his mind. What if this was the afterlife? Or the afterlife for Neave? Had he been so evil, vile, and despicable that this was what he deserved? Or did everyone end up here? Was the book not a trial but a one-way portal to this hellish place? Or did he¡­


    He paused and looked over at the writhing mass of black ooze. The demon was escaping again. Neave had another thought.


    What if I do have to defeat the demon?


    And not just the first demon, but the next two, and the next three demons, and heavens knew what else. What if this was some sort of cultivator purgatory or cultivator hell, where he had to fight and become a true warrior to get to cultivator heaven?


    He would have laughed at the mere thought if he weren¡¯t seriously considering the possibility. He was no longer confident that he would ever be free. So he grasped onto that one final straw.


    He got off the ground, blood dripping down his face from the hair he tore out. Then he walked over to the demon. He broke off one of the obsidian branches and stabbed the demon. He stabbed it again and again. When he cut his hand on the branch, he just tore his robes and wrapped them around his hand to stop the bleeding.


    When the branch broke, he got another. After hundreds of stabs, the demon finally stopped moving. Two more demons appeared behind Neave. He leaped at them, attacking them with the branch, but while stabbing the first demon, the second shattered his neck.


    Restart.


    Neave stared his eternal tormentor down. He felt his control over his own body was still poor. So he decided. If he already had an eternity on his hands, he wouldn¡¯t rush. He would take things one step at a time and learn from the ground up.


    He remembered his father. And he smiled.


    "You win in the end, you old asshole¡­" He mumbled as he stepped forward, preparing to fight the demon with his bare hands.


    Restart.

 Chapter 5 - Overwhelm

    Realistically speaking, it couldn¡¯t have been more than fifteen hours since Neave had started fighting the demon. However, it felt like an eternity. Especially in contrast to the utter boredom he had experienced for heavens knew how long.


    He had looped well over several hundred times by now. Fighting the demon barehanded seemed to be nearly impossible.


    The main problem was that Neave was just a child. Trying to fist-fight an adult-sized demon, not to mention an adult-sized demon with supernatural strength, was just¡­ Well, impossible, outright.


    At first, Neave would rush at the demon and try to punch it. That was a failure that resulted in countless restarts. The main reason why was that Neave had virtually no reach. Or weight. Or physical strength. Or skill.


    He didn¡¯t have anything at all going for him whatsoever.


    While his absolute disadvantage was the main contributing factor to his failure to fight the demon, his stubbornness was the main reason he was making no progress.


    Neave was horrible at fighting, but it wasn¡¯t like he didn¡¯t know how to fight. He knew the theory. Even if one ignored that he grew up in a martial arts sect, he had read many texts that covered the basics of hand-to-hand combat, even in texts that weren¡¯t related to fighting.


    But some stubborn part of him refused to borrow from that pool of wisdom, so he charged at the demon, trying to figure everything out entirely on his own. When he eventually gave up on that, after over a hundred failed attempts, he conceded that striking the demon wasn¡¯t wholly necessary.


    He wouldn¡¯t be killing it any time soon, so why even bother striking it in the first place?


    So Neave decided to dodge for a while rather than focus on delivering the one-punch killing blow. This, too, ended in many restarts,


    But he was also seeing progress.


    It wasn¡¯t even that many attempts later that his survival time went from seconds to minutes.


    Eventually, after dying enough times, those minutes turned into hours.


    The demon hit him only when he got too tired to think and lost concentration. The demon wasn¡¯t as clumsy as Neave initially thought it was. Sure, its movements were burdensome and unwieldy, but they weren¡¯t random.


    Everything about the demon¡¯s movements looked like it was almost intentionally giving away what it was trying to do. From how it pulled its arms back, to how its torso rotated, to how it solidified its footing, all of it was the same when the demon made a specific attack. The attacks were fast, but if Neave knew what it was trying to do ahead of time, dodging the attacks became straightforward.


    The problem was counterattacking. Even if the demon overextended with a punch or swing and Neave found an opening, he couldn¡¯t injure the demon without a weapon. He was starting to think his punches may hurt him more than the demon. He tried kicking too, but that wasn¡¯t much better.


    Neave didn¡¯t care that killing the demon seemed off the table for now. There were a few things he was trying to achieve with barehanded fighting. The first thing he wanted to get good at was dodging. Yes, he could avoid the demon''s attacks, but that didn¡¯t mean he was good at doing it.


    Full-body throws to the side or jumping back avoided the demon''s wild swings, but that was far from optimal. He planned to learn how to dodge optimally, or at least well enough to move on to the second step of his plans.


    ***


    Swing.


    Dodge.


    Thrust.


    Dodge.


    Swing.


    Dodge


    Neave¡¯s vision was getting blurry. He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, but he could swear that the demon''s movements were getting slower. This was the longest he¡¯d ever survived. It had been quite a while because of his thirst and sheer physical exhaustion. Suddenly, his vision blurred, and he dropped to the ground, losing consciousness.


    Restart.


    He was back at the beginning. However, he wasn¡¯t sad or disappointed.


    He was thrilled.


    The absolute joy that filled him at this moment was the best feeling he¡¯d experienced since he stepped foot into this hellscape.


    I fucking did it!


    He fought the demon until the exhaustion finished him off. Neave had bravely fought and had not been hit even once until the end. Sure, his opponent probably finished him off after losing consciousness, but that was beside the point.


    He had not been struck for as long as he was awake, no matter his exhaustion. He hadn¡¯t been grazed even once. Not one of the myriad attacks the demon had thrown at him had landed, and Neave didn¡¯t even move out of the demon''s range of attack a single time.


    Restart.


    That one didn¡¯t count. He wasn¡¯t paying attention. He had achieved step one of his plans and was about to move on to step two. He had planned to fight the demon until exhaustion rather than the demon finished him off, but he noticed something peculiar. He was confident that the demon did truly slow down as the fight went on. So Neave added step one point five to his plan. It wasn¡¯t even a step, really. It was more of an experiment.


    Neave wanted to see just how much he could exhaust the demon. If it slowed down toward the end, that must mean it also had limited energy reserves, and Neave wouldn¡¯t glance over that potentially crucial detail. So he took a deep breath while waiting for the demon to approach him, and then¡­


    He dodged.


    ***


    There were a few things Neave had noticed during his experiment. The first thing was that his initial achievement was more due to luck than it was due to skill. However, he eventually got enough practice to consistently replicate the ¡®dodge until you die from exhaustion¡¯ move.


    The second thing he noticed was that the demon most certainly also had limited energy reserves. And Neave was getting much better at exhausting them. Not every move required the same amount of energy to dodge. The same thing went for the demon. Not every strike took the same amount of effort to deliver.


    Neave slowly formed a dodging style that capitalized on this. He would put his body into easy-to-maintain positions where he could execute simple dodges while baiting the demon to attack a certain way.


    There were two things he was trying to accomplish. The first was to force the demon to extend its reach. And the second was to get it to chain as many attacks as Neave could dodge at once.


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    The first was important because it meant the demon would lean forward or take an extra step. Both of these required additional muscles and energy to execute.


    The second was important because Neave could utilize the energy of his previous dodges, thus multiplying his opponent''s energy expenditure while only adding a little extra effort into dodging.


    And this was paying dividends. Far more than he had initially assumed it would.


    The demon took a clawed swing at Neave with its right arm, but he moved just a little backward. The demon pressed the attack and thrust with its left arm, but Neave added a bit more to his momentum to move just out of range.


    However, rather than fully disengaging, Neave corrected his posture with his left foot and stepped forward with his right foot, walking right back into range. The demon straightened its claws and swung its right arm towards Neave¡¯s head in a slash, and when Neave dodged, it followed up with a slash from its left arm, leaning toward Neave.


    Neave pivoted on his left leg, bending his torso to let the swing pass over his head, then spun left underneath the demon''s arms. The demon''s right arm was in the perfect position to strike, but Neave bumped his shoulder into its chest, using the knockback to dodge. It attempted another outward swing with its right arm after missing, but Neave was out of range.


    The demon twisted its torso and thrust with its left arm, taking a step forward with its right foot, but Neave simply swung his head to the right. Its right arm was again in the perfect position to strike, but Neave swung his head further beneath the strike.


    He paused his head mid-swing, seeing as the demon was planning on swinging its left arm again at his head, predicting where his head would be. As Neave paused, it also hesitated for an instant and changed the direction of its swing to where Neave¡¯s head was now, but as it redirected the attack, Neave moved his head again and dodged the strike.


    Neave was starting to understand why so many people were crazy about martial arts. This was a lot of fun. Truthfully, if he was back at his sect, virtually any disciple would still kick his ass easily¡ªthe reason why was simple.


    They did martial arts. This demon, well, didn¡¯t. A chop swing, a clawed swing, a punch, a thrust, and rarely a bite were pretty much the demon¡¯s entire repertoire. It didn¡¯t even use its legs to attack.


    It could get quite creative if Neave stood and took it, but the demon never played around when Neave was seriously trying to dodge.


    This fight was quite unfair. Besides Neave being immortal, there was another thing to keep in mind.


    Tension.


    There was usually a lot of tension when fighting a real fight with actual stakes. All of one¡¯s muscles were stretched taut, and their blood pumped through their veins like a raging river¡ªnaturally, this cost energy. However, while fighting this demon, Neave was under no stress whatsoever.


    Not only did he perfectly understand his opponent, but the stakes were virtually nonexistent. He wasn¡¯t worried about making a mistake or hyper-alert about what his opponent was doing. Neave was expending several times less energy than he would be in a real fight.


    And the demon was sapping itself dry, trying to get a hit on him.


    Neave dodged and danced around, moving just barely out of the way of the demon''s attacks. Whether by luck, chance, or by some intuitive improvement he hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d made, he was doing a lot better this time than any other time before. And soon enough, the demon slowed down.


    A lot.


    It was as if it had reached some sort of breaking point and was starting to collapse. Its swings were pathetically slow and had no energy behind them. Neave was also exhausted but not near death. And just a few minutes later, the demon took a few feeble swings and swiftly collapsed.


    Neave stared at it in shock.


    "I did it. I fucking did it! Ha-ha! I¡¯ve killed the demon without even touching it once! Hahahaha!"


    But something was wrong. He looked around and didn¡¯t see the two demons approaching.


    A thought crossed his mind. What if the two demons didn¡¯t arrive at all!? What if they were merely some sort of punishment for fighting dirty? So he looked around, looking for any signs that anything had changed. Had he done it? Was he done with the trial?


    He looked around like mad, trying to find any signs that he was right, but the only thing he saw was the demon shift a little on the ground.


    Oh, it just isn¡¯t dead yet.


    He facepalmed.


    So do I like¡­ finish it off?


    But how? He didn¡¯t want to use a weapon since he wanted to achieve victory barehanded. So he started kicking the demon''s head. After kicking so many times, his hip was beginning to seize, he was starting to realize that even unconscious, the demon was still far too tough to be killed without a weapon.


    However, Neave wasn¡¯t going to give up.


    He instead bent down, grabbed the demon''s neck, and started strangling it. That wasn¡¯t working. Neave instead used his thumbs to press as hard as he could on the demon¡¯s jugular veins. He was trying to kill it by denying blood flow to its brain. However, after several minutes of clamping down on its neck, he got a cramp in his finger, yet the demon still wasn¡¯t dead.


    What now? Did he put his pride aside, grab a sharp branch, and cut its throat? Smash its head with a rock? Or maybe drag it over to a pit and throw it inside? That last idea would technically count as barehanded, right?


    He got increasingly closer to giving up on the barehanded kill.


    He was about to get up and grab a rock.


    Oh, but I could just do this.


    He bent down and bit into the demon''s neck. Blood gushed out.


    Neave lifted his head and looked at the demon as the last vestiges of movement stopped. He stared at the blood, not even noticing the horrid taste.


    What the fuck did I just do¡­?


    He couldn¡¯t believe it. For a second, it was like he had just turned into an animal and obeyed his instincts. Then he heard footsteps.


    He got up and smiled at the duo of demons approaching him, readying himself to see how his improvement measured up against them. Before he could even take a step, he fell to the ground and lost consciousness.


    Restart.


    What!? What happened?


    Then he realized what had happened and smacked his forehead several times.


    Stupid, stupid, stupid, its blood is poisonous! You just had to get bitey, didn¡¯t you, you rabid animal!


    Instead of swallowing his pride, it seemed he would rather swallow a mouthful of poison. Well, they did say that pride was an insidious killer.


    Brilliant.


    Even his ridiculously overinflated ego could concede that he had proven his point or whatever else he was trying to do. He''d killed the demon barehanded. Or bare-toothed. Still, he technically did it without a weapon. Now he was going to move on to step two.


    But he decided just to skip it instead.


    Step two was supposed to be killing the demon barehanded. However, he had somehow managed to accomplish that on step one point five, so he considered that step done.


    Well, not really. The point of step two was supposed to be to learn how to fight with his bare hands, but he didn¡¯t think he could. He didn¡¯t see the potential to learn without feedback.


    Sure, he could learn how to move or how to get hits in, but how was he supposed to know what attacks did what? He could assume that a spin into elbowing the demon would be better than just a punch, but he couldn''t learn a proper fighting style without any feedback.


    Restart.


    ¡­Sigh.


    Sometimes he got a bit too lost in thought. Oh well.


    Step three was fighting with weapons. However, Neave flat-out refused to use whole branches. Not only were they brittle, but they were also insufficient. There was only one viable weapon for someone of his build and size.


    He broke off two dagger-sized bits of obsidian and used that as his weapon. Daggers were very dangerous, even in his hands. Neave could get a ton of leverage from them and put more of his body weight into his strikes. He needed every bit of force his tiny little body could muster.


    He rushed at the demon and took a swing. The moment the dagger hit, it slipped out of his hand. The demon took a swing and clawed his head right off his shoulders.


    Restart.


    It was true that he got to put a lot of force into his attacks, but that was utterly useless if he couldn¡¯t contain that blow. Neave¡¯s pathetic grip strength just wasn¡¯t enough.


    So he took one of the daggers and tore the sleeves off his robe. He used the cloth to tie one of the daggers to his right arm in a reverse grip and the other to his left hand in a standard grip. After fastening the makeshift bandages with his teeth, he charged at the demon.


    The demon couldn¡¯t touch him. At first, Neave¡¯s attacks were clumsy and awkward, but soon enough, he got the hang of it. Before he could realize what was happening, he had delivered several deep strikes to the demon''s neck, the inside of its thighs, and underneath its armpits.


    Within less than a minute, the demon lay on the ground unmoving, and Neave stared at it.


    I did that¡­?


    He started hyperventilating. He didn¡¯t know why. This was good, he did so much better than he had expected, but he felt panic build up for some reason¡ªwords he didn¡¯t understand kept flashing through his mind.


    Brutally overwhelming your opponent.


    Restart.


    He didn¡¯t see the second wave of demons approach as one tore his spine out his back.


    That is what you must do, Neave. There is no mercy when facing an enemy. It will be either their death¡­


    Or yours.

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 [BOOK FOUR START] Chapter 134 - Distressed Mother

    The throne room of Emperor Jevian Lloude Dust was considered a great show of humility.


    A simple construction of plain wood. A small and humble room, perhaps as large as the house of an affluent mortal family. This was the pattern with the emperor¡¯s image. He had no clan¡ªno lineage. He took no wives or concubines and had no children or relatives.


    Praise be unto Emperor Lloude Dust, for he lived only to serve the greater good, the survival and well-being of the Yixine Empire.


    But the reality of it, beneath the shiny surface, was quite different.


    He wasn¡¯t humble. He was pragmatic.


    He didn¡¯t renounce a lineage for the greater good¡ªhe did it to have no weaknesses.


    Indeed.


    His humble throne room was no shame to him, for nobody was qualified to strip him of face.


    For who could do anything to one of only two second-step diamond path cultivators in the entire realm? The Grand Queen was a recluse, so she, as the only other cultivator with comparable power to his, certainly wasn¡¯t going to get in his way.


    Emperor Jeevian, for all his glory, had a nasty secret. His story of coming from a humble upbringing was categorically a massive lie. In truth, he wasn¡¯t from this realm at all. The residents of this world had no hope of ever reaching rank two of the subdivinity stage. Even the Grand Queen could only do it due to the assistance of the Great God himself, and the second rank was the most he could help her reach.


    So who was he? Where had he come from? It was a long, harrowing story of getting stuck in a collapsing mystical realm for numerous millennia. Detached from any worlds, he had floated in the void, barely kept alive by a self-inflicted stasis that threatened to break apart with each passing moment.


    However, in a miracle of profound, heavenly fortune, the broken mystical realm found another reality to attach to.


    But¡­ to his abject terror¡­ the new world he found himself in¡­


    It was a lost realm.


    Yet, he found this might not have been the worst thing in the world. First, in such a place, he was virtually invincible. Sure, there was an outpost maintained by the Heavenly Alliance to ensure that no hidden threats could appear, but some lower-realm wench calling herself a queen stood no chance against a former prodigy of Descending Heavenly Dragon Clan.


    But there was a problem. It was the very reason the Heavenly Alliance had cut this realm off from the connection to the Omnirealm¡ªthe Monster Apocalypse. These creatures were no sacred or even demonic beasts. They were a horrific abomination, a foul play by the Devil Anarchy aiming to ensure that, since they couldn¡¯t claim it, nobody could have this realm for themselves. An act of mutual destruction.


    If he could find a way to cope with it or find a way to use the mutated, disgusting sin disguised as spirit powers to his advantage, he would be unstoppable. Indeed. Nobody could have this realm. But he wanted to claim it. As soon as he rid it of the infestation or found a way to suppress it, it would be his alone to rule over as he pleased.


    That was the ultimate aspiration of Emperor Jeevian Lloude Dust¡ªthe supreme ruler of a desolate, abandoned wasteland¡ªand future god of this realm.


    The divine authority he had here, although hampered by the existence of that Langen puppet, was quite incredible. He could sense lesser subdivinity stage cultivators in the range of the entire Xinkummar continent, as long as they weren¡¯t hiding in a mystical realm. Until this moment, this had been his most significant tool for remaining in power. Nobody, not a single individual, could ascend past rank three of the divine spark stage without his permission and stay on the continent.


    With all these plans in place and the authority and rule he had established, one could only imagine how he felt when that divine authority suddenly vanished. One could only guess what was going through his mind as he spotted Hosolar the Starflailer¡¯s projection above the capital.


    And one could only presume just how furious he felt when he learned that the demigod was after his greatest hope for solving his predicament.


    ***


    In the middle of the oh-so-embarrassing throne room, Emperor Jeevian Lloude Dust, together with the Great Four¡ªBeanna, Kingean, Carfen, and the newly ascended Xondir, kowtowed to Hosolar the Starflailer and his companion¡ªa silver-haired woman on the first step of the diamond path.


    All the servants that usually populated the palace were nowhere to be seen. Hosolar had dismissed them, as he couldn¡¯t bear to stand in the presence of such lowly beings.


    His pitch-black hair covered a part of his heavenly forehead, and his piercing gaze shone orange with the might of a supernova.


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    He looked down on what he must have perceived as little more than specks of dust below his feet and smiled. ¡°Greetings, Emperor,¡± he mouthed the title mockingly, sneering at Jeevian¡¯s sweaty form. ¡°Who you are and where you¡¯ve come from is none of my business,¡± he declared dismissively, ¡°all I need from you is information.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty,¡± the emperor breathed out. ¡°I have been trying to track the child myself for quite a while.¡±


    ¡°Oh, have you now?¡± Hosolar asked, snorting at that. ¡°Not even your heavenly predisposition, it seems, has been enough to make any headway, then?¡± he teased.


    Swallowing bile, Jeevian forced the words out, ¡°I have indeed been unsuccessful in tracking him down. He possesses incredible power and¡ª¡±


    ¡°Look, I have no interest in playing the role of your superior. Spare me the excuses, and tell me whether you know anything of value.¡±


    Jeevian shook profusely as he whispered, ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know anything, Your Eminence.¡±


    ¡°Hmph,¡± he snorted. ¡°I see.¡± Then, with a mighty kick, he sent Jeevian flying across the room. The Emperor smashed into the wooden construction and burst through the wall, flying all the way into the courtyard, where he landed in the pond with a splash.


    The surrounding servants screamed to get out of the way, and his Second Wind spirit power activated to fix his broken neck and put it back into shape.


    Hosolar turned to the other diamond pathers and warned, ¡°Just stay out of my way. If any of you dare to breathe where it disturbs my search, that will be your last breath. Do you understand?¡±


    They all shook their heads, keeping their mouths firmly shut.


    ¡°Good,¡± he said. ¡°Brivia,¡± he called the beautiful woman at his side. ¡°I think it''s time for you to step up.¡±


    ***


    Above Keyishin, the capital of the Yixine empire, the projection of a heavenly beauty appeared. Her visage was impeccable, her glory infinite. She opened her mouth and spoke.


    Her story touched many hearts. She spoke of running from a developing demonic organization, now known as the ruined Zearthorn sect, and having to abandon her child to seek another chance at life. She told, through crocodile tears, how much she regretted having to make that decision each and every day of her life.


    She plead for her child, Neave Zearthorn, the Lost Child, to return to her. To finally reunite with his mother in a loving embrace and for them to travel to the Great God¡¯s domain together¡ªwhere they would live out the rest of their glorious eternities as a family.


    Tears flowed down many cheeks, and people sympathized with the touching story. Many broke into sects, scouring every room and interrogating every individual for the Lost Child¡¯s location. They sought, yelled, screamed, even, for Neave to show himself and come out.


    Their calls, however, fell on deaf ears.


    ***


    From the top of the Crystal Palace merchant group outer circle tower, Kalen watched the incredible sight above, unable to restrain himself from crying a bit. What a wonderful tale! What a touching story! Indeed, the heavens had eyes, and they had sent their best to fix this injustice!


    And, at this point, unfortunately, his delightful observation of the heavenly appearance above just had to be ruined by the arrival of that snotty kid.


    Dukean, the young master of the Emperium sect, stood at the tower''s edge, wearing his usual, easy smile as he grinned at him. That brat was definitely up to no good.


    ¡°Why now!?¡± he asked, outraged. ¡°Why do you have to come to ruin this spectacular moment!? Begone! I¡¯m watching history unfold!¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Dukean asked, his easy smile widening. ¡°Brother Kalen, do you truly not wish to show me some face after the favor I granted you?¡±


    Kalen winced at that. Of fucking course that had to come to bite him in the ass at the absolute worst moment.


    Sighing, he turned around with a disgruntled mumbling and spat, ¡°Speak, you vile thing, what do you want?¡±


    At that moment, however, his attitude was forced to change. From nowhere, a certain man appeared. A man he recognized.


    ¡°L¡­ Lord Bob,¡± Kalen uttered, glancing between the repulsive, disgusting figure and the beautiful Bob, his lovely patron. ¡°I¡­ I had no clue you were allied with¡­¡± he spluttered, unable to wrap his mind around what was happening. Something about this felt wrong.


    ¡°Dun¡¯ worry, mate, hahaha!¡± Bob chuckled, ever the cheerful man. ¡°This little boy owes me a favor, and I just so overheard he had you by the balls! Hahahahaha!¡± he cackled vociferously. ¡°So I thought I¡¯d do you a solid and tell him to let you off the hook!¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± Kalen couldn¡¯t believe it. ¡°That is¡­ highly generous of you, Brother Bob; you have shown me great face by doing this.¡±


    ¡°Nah, don¡¯t worry bout¡¯ it,¡± Bob said, spitting on the marble table again, but Kalen had no intention of getting irritated. This man had no flaws in his eyes. Nay, he could be compared to a saint!


    ¡°What a blessed day this is!¡± Bob proclaimed, caressing his triple chin as he stared simultaneously at the projection of the beautiful woman above and off somewhere in the distance. ¡°I hate to interrupt such a moment, but I need some shit from you!¡±


    ¡°Some¡­ Sh¡­?¡±


    ¡°Stuff.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Kalen blinked. ¡°I understand. What is it that Brother Bob desires?¡±


    Bob threw a small scroll Kalen¡¯s way out of his dimension ring. As soon as his gaze landed on it, Kalen froze. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m sorry, dear sir, but this is¡­ I do not mean to offend you, Great Benefactor, but I¡­¡± he glanced at the absurd list of items and back to the man before him. ¡°I am not sure whether you can afford all this¡­¡±


    Without hesitation, Bob pulled another object out of his ring. Kalen¡¯s eyes nearly bulged out of his skull. He had seen many cores in his life. So he could tell at a glance.


    This ungodly object before him¡­ It was an S-9-grade, platinum-ranked monster core.


    ***


    Dukean and Neave were told to wait as Kalen had to return to his headquarters to fetch the bulk of the items. In his disguise as Bob, Neave¡¯s foot hopped anxiously. He had yet to fuse his spirit powers here, so the burden of interference was back in full force. And if that wasn¡¯t enough¡­


    ¡°N¡­ Neave,¡± Dukean tried, ¡°Is that your real¡ª?¡±


    ¡°If you say anything to Marven,¡± Neave said, ¡°or any of the others, I¡¯m going to kill you immediately.¡±


    Dukean swallowed his following words and looked away, turning back to the sky where the beautiful woman continued pleading for Neave to return.

 Chapter 135 - Investigation

    Kingean had believed that he could never forgive Beanna for her mistake. Their comrade¡¯s life¡ªand the failure to subdue a great calamity¡ªwas an unacceptable price to pay.


    Yet, it didn¡¯t take long for the ice around his heart to be melted by the eternal fire burning from within. Indeed. Although he would never admit it, as he couldn¡¯t act on these feelings, he had been deeply in love with Beanna for a long, long time. From even before he met his late wife.


    Or so he had been. But those feelings were beginning to waver.


    Kowtowing beside his two lifelong friends and the newcomer, he did as was wise and showed Hosolar utmost respect. Despite his pride, he had to acknowledge the feelings of fear he had. The emperor was an unreachable peak¡ªHosolar was a mountain with no end in sight.


    But he didn¡¯t shake. He had faced danger before. His pride wouldn¡¯t allow him to show even the slightest hints of fear.


    Beanna, on the other hand, was shaking profusely. She was sweating and eyeing the demigod with concern in her gaze.


    Disgusting, shameful behavior.


    But Kingean was confused. He was concerned, too. Why was she reacting like that? Not only that, but even Carfen was shivering slightly, although it was hard to perceive. Xondir responded similarly, but he was newly ascended and not nearly as used to facing such power.


    To Hosolar, their reactions went entirely unnoticed. They were far below him, so he probably expected this. To him, Kingean was perhaps the most unusual one.


    But to Kingean, the behavior of Carfen and Beanna was beyond bewildering.


    He knew them. Better than perhaps even himself.


    The righteous, almost self-destructive defender Carfen. He was a smartass with no sense of humor, a stickler for the rules, and a reckless shield who would throw himself at a dragon if needed. He was anything but a coward. Kingean had never seen him shiver. Never. Even under far worse circumstances.


    Then, there was Beanna. The beautiful, cheerful woman who had a carefree attitude in almost every situation. Now, seeing her breathing raggedly and quivering, shooting concerned glances at the demigod, she looked¡­ She looked like a stranger to him.


    ***


    Beanna was trying her best to restrain her reaction. And she was failing miserably. How could this be? They were so close to usurping the stone and winning the realm over for their masters. But this bastard just had to appear at the worst time.


    She was a human. From her skin to her flesh, from her flesh to her spirit¡ªthere was no more trace of Xaraleth¡¯ara¡¯than, the demon she used to be. With an ancient devil artifact and mass human sacrifice, she had performed a perfect reincarnation into a true human¡ªin every aspect but her soul.


    So she couldn¡¯t help it. Being in the presence of such divine authority was too much for a demon only at the beginning of the subdivinity stage.


    Even Carfen couldn''t entirely resist the suppression despite the protection of the Hundred Archdemons¡¯ Supreme Bulwark. And Xondir, a human through and through, shook merely out of fear.


    The emperor returned from being kicked out and kowtowed directly below the demigod, showing utmost humility. Had Hosolar killed him, their greatest challenge would have been resolved. Unfortunately, the heavenly bastard knew the utility this invader provided to the stability of their influence, so he wouldn¡¯t do such a thing.


    That accursed child was to blame for all of this. She wanted to tear that Lost Child limb to limb and devour him, but she was powerless to do so.


    Or was she? Perhaps they could all volunteer to help track the child down.


    Just as she had these thoughts, a man¡¯s voice could be heard yelling from the courtyard.


    ***


    Lank had reached the lowest point of his life. His clothes looked ragged yet again, and for a while already, he had been nothing but a beggar in the streets, with only his brother at his side.


    He himself was filthy and sickly looking, his long black hair greasier than ever, but Bev¡­ His brother had been plump until a while back, but under all the stress, he had rapidly thinned, and now, he looked deathly skinny, with even his mustache appearing less lush than it used to be.


    The story of how they reached such a low started with their meeting with Young Master Dukean. As repayment for their information, they demanded the funds to travel to the Bonmiele Theocracy. He refused.


    Apparently, those Bentheta bastards had tricked them. Teleporting them close to the border was relatively easy. But the border itself was impossible to pass through by ordinary means.


    The only real way to get to the theocracy would be to teleport there directly, but that needed the favor of a large sect and a lot of money if they wanted to get thirty people over.


    Thankfully, Young Master was an honorable figure. For the value of their information, that boy had repaid them by recommending Lank and his men to be taken as servants in one of the Emperium subordinate sects. They were offered that they''d be teleported if they worked without pay for two years. It was a long time, but compared to the safety of a large sect and the value of their word, they had no better option.


    As soon as they were employed, his men ran their mouths like absolute morons and revealed the circumstances of their fight with the demon child. They bragged about how they nearly got him and how they valiantly escaped despite three gold-path cultivators falling to the demon¡¯s grasp.


    Such was human nature. They all clung to anything they believed made them important, no matter how insignificant.


    They hadn¡¯t expected, however, that so soon after, the one they knew as the demon child would be declared a hero of the empire. Then, all of a sudden, their bragging was instantly subverted into heresy of the highest order.


    Although they couldn¡¯t be killed due to their connection to Young Master Dukean, nobody wished to have anything to do with them.


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    Just as they got a safe job to save up for their trip to the Bonmiele Theocracy, they were stripped of all they had and exiled.


    The hopes of making it on time were becoming slim.


    He remembered that woman¡¯s words. Within a mere five years, this entire continent would likely be destroyed. Why? He didn¡¯t know. But he felt that the mystical realm, which had wrecked half the capital, might be an early sign of that destruction.


    Then, just as he felt the final vestige of hope leaving him, she appeared. Her beauty was as unrivaled as he remembered, and her glory was as untameable as the stars themselves. The stunning visage of the woman he had encountered, of the one who had warned him of the fate of this continent, appeared in the sky.


    However, before it could fully take place, his hope was utterly obliterated. Why did the heavens hate him so? What were the odds that she would be the mother of that child?


    Madness encroached upon his mind, and he couldn¡¯t stop himself from cackling violently.


    But then, he calmed. His eyes gleamed sharply. The situation was becoming do or die. The child hadn¡¯t seen any of their faces back then. She didn¡¯t have to find out the truth. It was stupid and reckless, but nothing but death and misery awaited him anyway. There was no reason not to make one final, reckless gamble.


    He dragged Bev along as the two men ran toward the capital''s center. Everything was in utter chaos, so nobody stopped the two silver-path cultivators from pushing through the gates.


    Their legs carried them forward, and they completed their mad dash faster than he believed they could.


    The guards who usually kept the palace safe were nowhere to be seen, as they had likely been sent to find the child. The protective barrier was also gone, probably lowered to allow the demigod to project the image into the sky.


    It was perfect. Luck was finally working in their favor. Lank completed his mad dash into the courtyard, leaving his brother to wait outside, and he spotted a large hole in the side of the palace.


    ¡°Hey!¡± he screamed. ¡°Oh, Great Heavenly Messenger! I have information about the Lost Child!¡±


    ***


    Brivia recognized the voice coming from the outside. Her memory was perfect, after all. But hearing it was a surprise. This was one of the people she had encountered during her many expeditions into the wider world.


    Hosolar showed no reaction to the man¡¯s voice, as was expected. If the man honestly had something of value to say, he¡¯d have forwarded that to one of the numerous servants who had arrived here with them.


    Oh well. More out of idle curiosity than anything, she stepped forward and revealed herself to the decrepit being. The despicably ugly human dropped to his knees and prostrated himself as he saw her.


    She couldn¡¯t help but sigh upon seeing this. After all, this man was a remnant of a failed experiment.


    Those who had tainted their souls with monster spirit were useless; their lives were lower than those of cats and dogs. She had worked hard to try and dissuade these barbarians from partaking in the use of such taboo means, but¡­


    Indeed, all those who witnessed her heavenly beauty, or at least most, heeded her words and quit their wretched ways. But those they forwarded her words to weren''t so quick on the uptake.


    Thus, the experiment was, as was unfortunately predictable, a complete and utter failure.


    Even if tainted, those cores provided power. Between choosing a noble death and living a wretched life, these animals would always pick the latter. Her false promise of salvation wasn¡¯t enough to replace the certainty of corrupting one¡¯s soul and using that power for survival.


    ¡°I know something that could help you find him!¡± the man continued yelling. ¡°There is a young master of the Emperium sect who was looking for him!¡±


    She cocked her eyebrow at that. From behind her, something akin to a strangled squeal came from the one named Kingean, and she scoffed internally. This could be a fun distraction.


    ¡°Very well,¡± she graced him with her pure voice. ¡°Speak!¡± she commanded.


    ¡°His name is Dukean! He was looking for Neave, and me and my men had encountered him once!¡±


    ¡°Really!?¡± she said in mock surprise, putting on a concerned expression. ¡°Where?¡±


    ¡°That¡­¡± he hesitated. ¡°That is irrelevant. What¡¯s important is that once we told Young Master the hair color of the child we met, he reacted quite strongly! I believe he might have already met him!¡±


    The lowly green-haired individual behind her squealed again, and that settled it for her.


    Before the prostrated man could even begin to react, Brivia flashed forward and grabbed him by the neck, lifting him into the air. ¡°You are saying some interesting stuff,¡± she said in a cold, detached voice, void of all the mock concern. ¡°Now say that again, this time under spirit oath.¡±


    The man repeated his words, and she was caught by surprise. He was telling the truth. She returned to the throne room and bowed to Great God¡¯s Holy Proginy. ¡°The man speaks the truth,¡± she informed him dutifully. ¡°I believe this might be a good place to look.¡±


    ¡°Very well,¡± he responded, walking over to Kingean. ¡°You are the master of this ¡®Emperium¡¯ sect, correct?¡±


    Kingean nodded hesitantly.


    ¡°Bring me to your son.¡±


    Both Hosolar and Brivia followed the hesitant cultivator as he trekked back to his sect. There, they searched. And what they discovered only made them more confident that they were on the right path.


    One of the elders claimed to have witnessed someone kidnap the young master from the crowd a while back.


    The news upset the boy¡¯s father, but their mood improved.


    They inquired around, asking about that young master¡¯s habits and where he had been recently. He visited the library often, they said. There, he met someone who had long pink hair with red locks.


    The exact hair color the son from her memory had. Not only that, but some interesting details surrounded this individual¡¯s actions in the library.


    They tracked down another descendant of these ¡®Great Four.¡¯ It was a somewhat plump girl with striking orange hair. They brought her into the throne room and interrogated her.


    She shared the story of her encounter with the person they guessed to be Neave.


    Her description confirmed they had found who they were looking for.


    But that wasn¡¯t all they wanted from the girl. She was beautiful. She was a striking young lady who could easily belong among the most outstanding of Langen youth if she shed her extra body weight.


    So, with a bright grin on her face, Brivia turned to face the girl¡¯s grandmother. ¡°Your descendant is most beautiful, Beanna,¡± she teased. ¡°I shall thus grant her the privilege of joining Langen and our cause.¡±


    ***


    Kingean was well on his way to spitting blood from outrage. How fucking dare this bitch!? First, they treat the disappearance of his son as if it were a mild curiosity, not even permitting him to look for Dukean, and now they wish to kidnap Beanna¡¯s descendant!? This was an insult well above anything he had ever¡ª


    ¡°As you wish, Your Grace.¡± someone said in a voice he recognized. But he didn¡¯t want to believe his ears.


    He turned slowly, eyes wide open as he faced the shivering Beanna. She clasped her hands, and without any desire to protest, she surrendered her very flesh and blood to these bastards. True¡­ there was no hope. Everything they could say and do would be futile in this scenario. He was sure she knew that.


    But this? This level of subordination?


    He couldn¡¯t believe it.


    His eyes saw the same person he had seen countless times, yet with each second that passed, she became more and more of a stranger to him. Something was wrong. This wasn¡¯t how Beanna should react.


    And his eyes slid to face Carfen, who knelt beside her. Why wasn¡¯t he speaking up? He knew this man well enough to know that he would never stand for such injustice. No¡­


    Who were these people?


    His thoughts were interrupted as the young Maecy began crying. ¡°No¡­¡± she protested. ¡°Please, don¡¯t take me!¡± she begged. ¡°I¡¯ll give you more information; I just remembered something else!¡± She pleaded desperately. ¡°I heard some rumors! He¡­


    ¡°He said that he was from the Falken sect!¡±

 Chapter 136 - Blunder Upon Blunder

    In the central hall of the Falken sect, three domes of spirit stood undisturbed. With a flicker, Neave and Dukean appeared before them.


    ¡°You remember what we agreed upon?¡± Neave asked him.


    Sighing, Dukean answered, ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m not going to say anything. I¡¯m not an idiot.¡±


    He nodded at the young master. ¡°Good.¡± then, with a swing, he shattered the first of the four domes.


    The person inside flinched and jumped as the dome dissipated and the liquid spirit from within flowed out. It was Harel. She was skinny and young yet again, a far cry from the hardened woman they had all grown to know her as.


    Next was Hunter, who was still incredibly bulky, with frown lines that had mellowed out appearing on his forehead once more.


    After that was Gabrias, the man who had outwardly changed the least among them, it seemed.


    And finally, there was Marven. The only thing different about him was that he was bald again.


    ¡°No time,¡± he spat. ¡°We go now!¡±


    They nodded.


    Neave¡¯s mouth opened wide into a massive circular shape. Then, numerous concentric circles of sharp teeth began growing.


    The others were long used to Shapeshifting shenanigans, but this was more than a little strange, even by those standards.


    And it only became weirder when those teeth started spinning with a loud buzzing sound. He first moved one of the massive stone tiles beneath their feet, revealing the foundation. Then, he stuck his open maw to that foundation and started drilling into it, rapidly descending into the earth. Once he made enough space for them to fit, he returned back up, threw everyone inside, and sealed the floor tile again.


    He used a movement technique and appeared beside the others. ¡°Dukean! I will keep digging down; you use your Earth Manipulation to shut the tunnel behind us! I don¡¯t want any traces of us passing through!¡±


    Dukean nodded, but his expression was grim. His control over the spirit power was still weak at this point. But he gritted his teeth and forced it to work anyway. The numerous years of experience helped with managing it.


    And just like that, the six of them vanished into the underground.


    He pulled out the special concealment treasure and cracked it, creating a shimmering barrier that enveloped all of them.


    Just in time for Marven and Neave to sense someone powerful breaking into the sect and ransacking it in their search for them.


    ***


    Hosolar strode into the Falken sect¡¯s premises and commanded his numerous minions to scour it. The building was wildly suspicious. A massive, relatively competently built, and entirely new construction like this sat empty, void of disciples and, really, any members at all.


    His minions¡¯ report painted a rather strange picture. There was absolutely nothing of note in these premises. No treasures, no information, nothing.


    This was no sect. Was this a¡­ decoy?


    That made him frown, however. For what purpose would someone create such an involved ruse? No, that probably wasn¡¯t the case. It was just as likely that this wasn¡¯t a finished project and that the occupants had escaped sometime before he appeared.


    He couldn''t stop himself from clicking his tongue. The distance from his true body was far too great, and the effect that had on his avatar was profound. Not even he could fathom just how tiny a fraction of power his senses still had. It was as if he was utterly blind. Without this impairment, tracking his targets would be easy. With it... He sighed.


    They were hiding somewhere in the capital. There was no chance of escape without revealing themselves. That made things simple. All he had to do was keep searching.


    ***


    Ilkivir nervously waited in the hidden realm. He was supposed to stay here and acclimate to his newly acquired power. He was supposed to prepare for the fight.


    But now, focusing had become impossible. Sweat liberally trickled down his back, and he paced around. Why did a demigod appear so suddenly? No, he knew why; he was informed why, but that didn¡¯t make it any better.


    It was because of his failure that they had this problem. Because he failed to kill Neave.


    Given how powerful that little shit had been, failure was nigh-inevitable. But would his masters see it that way? The thought made him shiver.


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    Indeed, this was no joke. This was no time to be messing around. This was where he worked to redeem himself. But he kept losing focus.


    The reason why was simple.


    The demons around him wailed and screamed like mad, tearing at their bodies and cowering anywhere they could find a place to hide. Despite being hidden in a mystical realm, these creatures could still sense the presence of a demigod.


    He was a true human, for now, at least, so he had no such problem. But as he witnessed these creatures wail in agony, he couldn¡¯t help but wonder.


    Just how powerful was Hosolar the Starflailer?


    ***


    In a serene, verdant patch of forest near what had once been the Zearthorn sect, Kaphor sat with his eyes closed, carefully imbuing his qi into the plant before him. He was still maimed; half his face, several fingers, and his leg were still gone, but he appeared content.


    Birds around him chirped, the water shifted silently, and the sound of the canopy rustling above calmed his nerves. There were also the occasional wails from the numerous abominids already invading the area, but not much could be done about that. Besides, they weren''t a real threat anyway.


    None of the monsters he could encounter here would be a threat. For a long time, at least.


    As he opened his eyes, he was met by the mighty grace of his creation.


    Paora, as he had named it, was a beautiful specimen of grass. Frankly, it looked like no grass stalk he¡¯d personally seen. It was big, branched out a lot, and its stem was growing thick enough that it looked more like it belonged to a tree than mundane grass.


    He pondered its blades as he caressed their furry undersides. He wondered about its height, both as it were and as it would be, the span of its roots, the way it drained the soil and absorbed power.


    Then, he sank into his spirit. There, with relative ease, he grabbed a hold of a few threads. When he left, many hours had passed. And he¡¯d made further progress down the second step of the golden path.


    With each day that passed, he grew considerably. Not in large bursts but in a constant stream of revelations. Indeed. Many older individuals experienced something like this late in their lives.


    While they had fought their entire life and spent all their time working, their philosophy had prevented them from seeing and grasping the fruits of their labor. They had eyes but couldn¡¯t see what was there, as they were too preoccupied with looking for the thing they wanted to find.


    Experience was a double-edged blade. The more one knew, the less they believed there was to know, no matter how hard they tried not to fall into that trap.


    What Kaphor was experiencing at that time was enlightenment.


    He found himself in a forest that had always been there but one he had failed to spot in his search for the trees.


    There was a wealth of potential that had only gone unrealized due to his refusal to acknowledge it.


    His musings were interrupted as he sensed something odd entering the range of his spirit senses. ¡°Hmm?¡± he hummed as he turned to face the direction of the sensation.


    It was a monster, he was sure of it, but something about it felt odd. There was a tinge of strangeness to the energy surrounding it. Whatever it was, it was utterly alien to his senses.


    He got up and rushed toward the creature. Whatever it was, he couldn¡¯t let it come close to Paora. His one leg served him better than two did many other warriors, and he embraced the potential of his limits, the disabilities he lived with, and his ability to adapt to them.


    One one-legged hop after another pushed him forward, and he soon appeared beside the invading force.


    It was a golem. But it was a deeply strange one. There were specks of purple crystal embedded in its stone, and its shape was alarmingly humanoid despite feeling like it didn¡¯t hold much power.


    He turned the creature into a pile of shards with a single mighty punch. After checking its body, he swiftly retrieved the core. Once he did, his eyes shot wide open.


    It was near-perfectly round. The power within was something he could easily add to his own with minimal additional interference. And its power, the ability to manipulate a strange, potent violet energy, would not hinder the rest of his spirit powers.


    The sight of the shimmering purple pearl made him salivate with greed. His entire body lit up with desire, and he was already instinctually searching for a cup to dilute the core in and absorb its power.


    But he stayed his hand, storing the core into his ring instead. He also collected the strange purple crystals embedded in the golem¡¯s corpse and returned to Paora¡¯s side.


    As he stood there, admiring the beautiful form of his creation, his eyes grew misty. He had had children at one point. They had all died, however. Many of them because he prioritized his own growth over trying to help them prosper. He had always been a greedy piece of shit who aimed to monopolize all the benefits he could get his grubby little hands on.


    And where had that taken him?


    He had learned his lesson. Before him stood something he wasn¡¯t nurturing for benefits. It was merely another being he cared about. Whatever path it would walk, he just wanted the best for it. That was the true path up in the world. It wasn¡¯t just about himself.


    Through teaching, one could learn. Through providing, one could receive. And through sacrifice, one could gain.


    The next step in growing a spirit plant like this was to provide it with a core. He extracted the small, round pearl of spirit and gazed at it. Not in a million years could he hope to find a better alternative. Wasting it on an old fart like himself was truly a foolish endeavor.


    He chuckled. The crystal he would carefully approach; perhaps it could be used to somehow nurture the plant, but handling the core wasn¡¯t too tricky.


    He pressed the core up against the stem of the plant. It was small, so it wouldn¡¯t be too difficult to make it fit inside. Then, with a burst of qi, he used a technique. It was a gentle one. A slow one. It urged the plant to grow around the core, allowing him to slip it in more easily. Many hours of careful, delicate work later, the plant¡¯s stem finished embracing its new spirit.


    As it was fully enveloped and melted in the liquid flowing through the plant, the bump where the core had been slowly deflated as the core disappeared.


    He walked away, satisfied, as he prepared to sleep the encroaching night away.


    But he had failed to notice an important detail.


    He hadn¡¯t spotted the minuscule speck of darkness shimmering in the depths of the monster''s core.

 Chapter 137 - Do What One Does Best

    The capital of this dingy empire might have been prominent by the standards of these lower realm hicks, but from Hosolar¡¯s perspective, it was little more than a corner a rat was trapped in. After a whole week of tireless searching, he was sure beyond doubt that that child, together with what they had gathered to be five allies, had escaped into the underground.


    That was, to Hosolar, a minor inconvenience. Even if it took years to track the child down, it was no problem for him. To higher-realm beings such as himself, time was measured in centuries. A few paltry weeks were as insignificant as a speck of sand in a desert.


    And he had a much bigger problem to distract him anyway.


    He had tried contacting the higher realms. And he had failed. It wasn¡¯t surprising that something would hinder his connection this far from the omnirealm. Dark, unspeakable things lurked in the void separating him, and incomprehensible spatiotemporal phenomena occurred frequently.


    But this was persisting for far too long. Not only that, but the cut-off felt too¡­ absolute. His avatar, thankfully, couldn¡¯t be disturbed, as the connection was forged through the stone itself. But communication was utterly impossible.


    He sighed.


    Without the guidance of his father, he could only rely on himself.


    Given the nature of his presence here, he had to conserve his strength. Any shred of power he used with this avatar would be gone forever, and even without actively using it, his strength was slowly waning with each passing moment. And, to begin with, he only had a fraction of his true power in this state.


    He did not fear being defeated, but even running away was draining. It wasn¡¯t impossible for him to chase after the child, but that would be unwise. Given this avatar''s drastic limitations on his abilities, his senses were severely compromised, and the underground was vast. No matter how fast, skilled, and wise he was, he was still only one man.


    And there was no need to rush. He had servants at his disposal.


    He believed Brivia could be the best option for someone to be sent after their targets, but she held too much value as a piece. He even went so far as to help her ascend to the subdivinity stage to ensure her loyalty and obedience. So he couldn¡¯t recklessly send her to chase after them.


    He was about to call Langen to ask for assistance, but¡­ that failed, too. His temper wasn¡¯t fickle enough for something as minor as this to truly disturb him, but it was concerning. Something big was happening, and without his full power, he lacked the senses necessary to properly investigate it.


    What he could do, however, was send Brivia back to Langen to have her guide a selection of other servants to where they were. There was a number of those he could use in her stead.


    He opened his eyes and found himself centered back in reality again. The throne room around him was a laughable display of arrogance. Plain wood. Hosolar clicked his tongue. What a joke.


    The miserable cowards who reigned supreme in this realm stood before him. While they seemed calm and dignified, he wouldn¡¯t forget their sad states when he had first arrived. For heavens¡¯ sake, they had been shaking like leaves in the wind. They weren¡¯t the first lower-realm cultivators to have reacted like that to his presence, but theirs had been a particularly embarrassing display of cowardice.


    Still, their patheticness aside, their power was considerable for a lower realm such as this. Especially that of the rank two subdivinity stage emperor who had ended up here through whatever means. If he were any more significant than that, Hosolar would perhaps care enough to ask him how it happened.


    But as it stood, he only wanted one thing from the man. ¡°Emperor,¡± he called.


    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty!¡± Jeevian knelt.


    ¡°It will take a few days for the backup from Langen to arrive.¡± Indeed. The sanctuary was a vast distance away from this continent, a considerable trip for those at the start of the subdivinity stage. ¡°As such, I would like to request of you a favor.¡±


    The emperor tensed. ¡°Your¡­ Your Grace¡­ What do you desire?¡±


    ¡°That child had gone underground,¡± he declared plainly. ¡°Go after him and his allies.¡±


    Jeevian tensed at that command.


    Hosolar knew that they would obey him in this scenario. They had no choice. But nobody, especially those used to being at the top, liked being lorded over. Even brilliant men and women could become idiots in the face of such great frustration. To stop that from happening, he wouldn¡¯t just tell them what to do.


    A calm smile appeared on his face. Thankfully, these ants were so insignificant that even the most meager of rewards would be enough to satisfy them.


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    ¡°Do not be concerned, Young Emperor,¡± he placated him. ¡°I am not so dishonorable that I would make one-sided demands. In return for your service, I shall grant you a gift,¡± then, he pretended to ponder it for a moment before offering, ¡°How does this sound¡ªif you can find the child and bring it to me, I won¡¯t have to use any of my power. I admit that the avatar I am embodying is limited. But I have enough energy to assist you in grasping a true strand.¡±


    Jeevian¡¯s head shot up, and his eyes widened. But he quickly restrained himself and brought his head back down. Panicked, he spluttered, ¡°I¡­ That sounds wondrous, Your Highness, but¡­ I do not know what that is¡­¡±


    Ah. How amusing. It seemed that he had kept his identity a secret from his comrades. But that was strange. That woman and the man in armor also reacted to his offer. But that was likely just curiosity. Or perhaps those two knew. Either way, it was irrelevant. If the man wished to keep his secret, it cost Hosolar nothing to play along. A cheap price to pay for a bit of extra loyalty.


    ¡°A true strand,¡± he explained, ¡°is what you have already grasped once before. In an act of true defiance of your fate, you have managed to ascend up to the¡­ second step of the diamond path,¡± he uttered, entertained by the naming sense.


    What a joke, comparing divinity to compressed coal? Preposterous and somewhat amusing. But irrelevant. He continued, ¡°Going any further, however, for reasons too grand to explain in one sitting, will be impossible. But I can help you make it a reality.¡±


    All five of the people before him reacted to that. How amusing. To them, reaching the¡­ third step of the diamond path must have seemed preposterous. And, to be fair, for a realm like this, that indeed was ridiculous. His help, however, was more than enough.


    But.


    ¡°However, my assistance can only give you a chance,¡± he clarified. ¡°Whether you succeed at grasping it is entirely up to you and your abilities.¡±


    ¡°I understand,¡± he said, fully prostrating himself.


    As for the others¡­


    ¡°As for the rest of you,¡± he included the four lesser cultivators, ¡°I can not repeat the same favor. But I can teach you all a single qi technique of any style you desire.¡±


    That was no small promise, and each of the four reacted appropriately¡­ well, mostly. He could excuse their lack of appreciation for his offer due to their ignorance. But he was offering something one could base a legacy on.


    He had made them the offer and given them their command. Now, it was time for them to go and fulfill their duties.


    ***


    Jeevian was sweating profusely. That damned bastard had somehow agreed to keep his identity a secret, but he knew that favor would cost him dearly. Or so he presumed. Chasing the child down wouldn¡¯t be the most challenging task, but it was an unwelcome distraction.


    They had an empire to run, and frankly, giving the Lost Child up hurt Jeevian¡¯s soul. At least he hoped he could extract whatever method that kid used to perform such miracles.


    With his comrades by his side, they made their way to a certain building. From the outside, it took the form of a giant tower. And on the inside, there were two paths. One of the paths took up where numerous floors of carefully designed rooms waited, their purpose to test those of the younger generation in their skill, power, and wit.


    And the other path was down.


    Walking down the stairs beside the Great Four, the stairway eventually turned into a cave. Then, it expanded into vast but still safe caverns. At the end of this massive opening was a gate of black metal. Its power surged violently, tickling the surfaces of their skin with its diamond-ranked aura.


    They stood before the Empress¡¯ Pledge, a remnant of a past ruler who did her best to ensure that the underground was as firmly sealed off from the empire as could be. Then, he approached and swung it open, revealing a cave passage, the shadows of which oozed with danger.


    And thus, they stepped forth.


    Making their way into the Abyssal Depths.


    ***


    Ilkivir perked up at the surprise opening of the hidden entrance. His instincts flared, and he prepared to fight, but all that flew into the mystical realm was a small piece of paper.


    It was a message.


    He quickly headed towards it, grabbing it off the ground as he read its contents.


    HOSOLAR COMMANDED THE EMPEROR AND THE GREAT FOUR TO CHASE AFTER NEAVE ZEARTHORN, the paper said, AS A REWARD, HE PROMISED TO HELP THE EMPEROR ASCEND A RANK.


    A shivering zap flickered down Ilkivir¡¯s back. No¡­ That was impermissible. If that happened, it would be well and truly over. There would be no hope of them ever achieving their goals. Hell, he wasn¡¯t safe even in this realm if that happened. After the ascension, the emperor would most likely be able to sense him, hidden in the mystical realm or not!


    CONTACT THE MASTERS IMMEDIATELY!


    ***


    The Shadow of Death and the Shadow of Calamity sat, eyeing their companion''s wretched state. It had been a long while since Destruction returned from its trip to their master, and since return, it hadn¡¯t spoken a single word, merely shivering in fright.


    That was the effect Master had on people. Her presence alone was enough to kill anyone lesser, and even at their level, they needed a while to recover from standing before her.


    Then, the Third Disciple appeared before them. It was displeasing to see his arrival. Either he had disobeyed their order to only contact them in case of absolute emergencies, or worse¡ªhe didn¡¯t.


    Ilkivir briefly shared the news of Hosolar¡¯s decree and his promised reward.


    Destruction perked up at the revelation. It stared silently at Ilkivir for several breaths until, finally, it got up.


    They all knew what that meant. The only way for Destruction to break away from the stupor Master¡¯s presence had left him in was the absolute term of her command.


    ¡°I gotta go,¡± the Shadow of Destruction said. ¡°We have waited long, my kin, and we are close. As Master had told me, the time to take risks is now. If I die, bring me back to life, even if I return to being¡­ lesser again.¡± It bowed to them and turned around, preparing itself to depart. ¡°Now, I¡¯ll go and do what I do best.¡±


    With that, its bulging legs flexed, and in one massive, earth-shattering leap, it flew high into the sky, flying out of the atmosphere.


    On its way to destroy their enemies.

 Chapter 138 - Dragon Flesh

    The Abyssal Depths were much richer in qi than the surface. And monsters were attracted to energy density. However, that didn¡¯t mean that the surface was wholly unappealing. A place like the empire''s capital is still attractive enough that veritable hordes of monsters charge at it all the time.


    The former Empress was a wise woman, however. With an Earth Manipulation spirit power, she formed intricately shaped caverns beneath the capital, and their unique shape prevents energy from flowing underground while it siphons it above.


    The upward direction to the monsters living below felt almost like a neverending void. Not even the lowliest of creatures ventures up there.


    Neave pondered this. Could such a shape be used in something like armor to¡ª


    ¡°You whelp,¡± a deep, thundering voice echoed around him. ¡°You not only dare intrude upon my domain, but you also dare lose focus in confronting me?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± he asked dumbly.


    Oh, right.


    He was fighting a red dragon, a titanic, fifty-meter-long monstrosity of serpentine death. Red dragons were known for their powerful resistance against qi techniques and plentiful life force reserves. So he was hunting it to¡ª


    ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± it roared or something as a red light lit up.


    He wasn¡¯t really paying attention, however. After fusing his abilities again and fighting monsters for a while, he realized something peculiar. The nerve-memory aspect of Thunder Nerves spread throughout most of his body, giving him a second consciousness that could fight independently from his mind.


    Although he had been trying his hardest, he wasn¡¯t quite there yet with his muscles. He was quite a bit smaller than his peak back in the nightmare realm, but his power had grown considerably in a very short time.


    His body roared with power as his fists shaped into bony, sharp spikes. With a flash of will, his speed exceeded that of sound, and he immediately appeared before the dragon. Around a thousand or so strikes, and roughly two seconds later, he realized that a dragon¡¯s defense, as a supreme diamond-ranked threat, was not something to scoff at. With a red breath attack, it nearly vaporized his body, but from a small piece of charred flesh, he regenerated in an instant, popping back into existence from well beyond a state that should have killed him.


    The dragon was shocked at his survival ability, and it shifted backward, making some space between them in the giant open caverns. Facing it in a direct fight wasn¡¯t impossible for him, but it was tedious and needlessly time-consuming.


    So, he dove straight into the dragon¡¯s mouth. Big mistake. His body nearly disappeared as the dragon¡¯s incredible digestion power tore his flesh into smithereens. Unfortunately, that strategy wouldn¡¯t work against a beast of diamond rank. Thankfully, he was able to flee before he thoroughly disappeared.


    The dragon seemed quite angry, but he doubted it was quite as frustrated as he was. He had to find a way to kill it quickly since each moment mattered. Sighing, he resigned himself to plan B: it was time to try the¡­ other way inside.


    After an excruciating thirty seconds that left Neave almost wincing in sympathy, the dragon¡¯s guts were reduced to mush, and it was dead, lying lifelessly on the cavern floor. Poor thing.


    Either way, it was time for his true mind, which was still busy contemplating ways to gather power, to kick in and take over.


    ¡°Done already?¡± he mused, pleased by his body¡¯s increase in performance. He was surprised that it was capable of thinking up the ass-crawl technique on the spot like that.


    Thus, forming his arm into a giant sawblade, he cut the dragon¡¯s head off. Then, he placed it into the positively massive dimension ring he had bought from the vendor and continued chopping it up. After less than ten seconds of gruesome sawing and chopping, the cave was covered in dragon blood and chunks of its flesh. And he had collected all of it.


    Now, it was time to return to the others. In a blink of supernatural speed and movement techniques, he traveled through the well-memorized layout of the caves until he reached his allies.


    They were all still busy digesting the other slop he had prepared for them. Good. Their stomachs were getting stronger. Naturally, all of them still looked ready to puke, but that was nothing but a minor side effect of consuming tons of liquefied monster flesh.


    Their bodies were already close to entirely in line with what they had achieved in the Nightmare Realm, but there was always more improvement to be made. Although the work hadn¡¯t been particularly demanding for most of them, given that they had all cultivated to the peak of the platinum path, he had to¡­ intervene a bit to speed some things up.


    Needless to say, Hunter hadn¡¯t been pleased when Neave¡¯s fingers morphed into tiny parasites he then proceeded to use to¡­ let¡¯s say, surgically remove excess muscle.


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    Nobody was surprised when they saw him retrieve the dragon¡¯s head from his dimension ring.


    Marven grabbed a cup of rancid liquid, downed it like a champ, then turned to his son and asked, ¡°Are we up?¡±


    He nodded. After quickly manifesting the life force bridge, he allowed them to step up and apply the alchemical techniques he had taught them. Dragon flesh, even after death, was still incredibly tough and challenging to deal with. Some key types of remnant spirit had to be disassembled first, and his Sacred Blood wasn¡¯t capable of doing that since, technically, it wasn¡¯t toxic in any way.


    This structural remnant spirit was the secret behind why their bodies were so rigid. His allies took only thirty seconds to finish their job, but given that there were five of them and they were positively sweaty afterward, it wasn¡¯t an easy task.


    Then, Neave stepped up. First, he pulled out the gigantic metal basin and threw the head of the dragon into it. Then, after forming ten arms and sharpening every finger into blades, he proceeded to shred the head into a paste.


    Usually, dragon flesh was a scarce and powerful treasure. Of course, killing a dragon and retrieving its flesh was a task that the Emperor and the Great Four could achieve without too much risk, but that wasn¡¯t the main problem. Dragon muscle was the only even remotely edible part of a dragon¡¯s body.


    And even then, it had to be treated excessively to purify it enough for consumption to be possible. If it wasn¡¯t, most who ate it raw would simply explode, their bodies overflowing with toxic energies that tore them apart.


    Dragon muscle, however, was nothing compared to any other part of its body. At least it could be treated and consumed. The other parts, however? The skin had extremely potent qi technique nullification properties and thus could deteriorate a cultivator¡¯s cultivation if disgested. The heart also made people explode, but there was no way to stop that from happening.


    Its veins made the veins of humans too thick to allow blood to flow through, and its blood made the blood of whoever consumed it too viscous to flow through the veins. The brain matter, or any of its nerve tissue, was a drug that made people lose their minds instantly.


    The bones made people¡¯s bones thicker, but also calcified the surrounding tissue¡ªworst case scenario? One could become a statue of bone.


    There were numerous other demerits to consuming parts of a dragon.


    After blending the entire head into a thick soup without removing any of its parts, he started the purification process. He poured a generous dose of his blood in, and then, he began. With a tendril of life force, he remotely activated Sacred Blood and started cleansing the substance of all toxic properties.


    Instantly, his entire body bulged as his veins appeared along the surface. They grew darker by the second, and his eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his skull. Even with what was technically a diamond-ranked spirit power, cleansing the violent storm of turbulent energies was a herculean task that made him spit even more blood into the mix.


    But after a while, he was done. It was a pure red substance, perfectly mixed into what could perhaps even be called an elixir.


    His allies stepped forward, gawking at the substance and swallowing.


    Indeed, they had had much monster meat so far, but this was the first time they tasted dragon. The tales of the legends surrounding them made almost everyone extremely uncomfortable, barring Harel, who bravely scooped up a small cup of the substance, and Gabrias, who put his complete faith in his lord¡¯s wisdom.


    ¡°Wait!¡± he yelled, halting their intent to drink the liquid. ¡°Take only small bits at a time. Too much of a good thing is not good and is actually still going to make you explode into gory fireworks.¡±


    They nodded nervously at his words. Then, with all the bravery they could muster, they sipped.


    It was as if something had exploded in their bodies. Everyone lit up with a glow that made Neave almost presume it was a failure, but that was premature. Within a few minutes, they shrank back again.


    All of them appeared notably stronger, however.


    ¡°Wow,¡± he gawked in awe, impressed by the efficacy of this strategy. ¡°Going underground was a good idea,¡± he decided.


    Dukean cackled at that. ¡°Well, when you can kill a dragon with your eyes closed, it sure is.¡±


    He laughed at that. ¡°Yup. Well then, we better hurry. There is a whole dragon body that needs to be consumed.¡±


    ***


    With her titanic form hidden in the darkness of a thick, viscous shadow, she growled in displeasure. Four of its lesser kin bowed before it, quivering in fright as they reported the death of a great guardian.


    ¡°Preposterous,¡± she declared with her loud, mighty voice.


    For a dragon to fall so quickly, surely the lesser creatures must be mistaken. But they repeated themselves, swearing the truth of their statement on their lives and urging her to act.


    The red wyverns had flown into her chamber a while back, swinging their wings and bowing, gesturing at her and retelling the tale of a tiny calamity. A creature who thoroughly ignored the attacks of anything less potent than a dragon and strode right into their lair as if owned a place. Even stranger yet was that it was not immune. With each claw swung at it, the flesh was torn away, and blood was spilled.


    But then, a mere moment later, the creature was whole again, as if their attacks were nothing but a dream.


    Then, with utter impunity, it slew one of her most powerful servants and made his entire body disappear, either consuming it outright or storing it somewhere with extraordinary powers, like those bastard golems with their spacial voodoo. Yes¡­ perhaps this was one of their ilk. But if that was so, it was strange. It was humanoid, yes, but it was fleshy, not of a metal or stone. A flesh golem, then? But that made no sense. A flesh golem with spacial powers? Perhaps some form of mutant?


    Her massive eyes shrunk into tight slits. She began morphing with an intense burst of power, reducing her glorious shape into one more compact.


    Out of the massive shadows, a tiny, humanoid form strode out. She was beautiful in any form she took but had to admit that this was one she was particularly fond of.


    It was that of a two-meter-tall humanoid. Her body was curved most pleasantly, and she bore the features of her kin, their scales, red eyes, claws, and horns most proudly.


    Now, then. It was time to find this intruder and hear their cries for forgiveness. Forgiveness that they would not be granted.

 Chapter 139 - Power Sets

    It had been a warm, pleasant evening above the empire capital when the emperor told Kingean, under spirit oath, the secret to his ascent up to the second step of the diamond path. A hundred years had passed since then.


    And he hadn¡¯t made a single step of progress toward achieving that goal.


    A rope-thick strand of potential spreading seemingly infinitely in both directions, so long and glorious that it must have held a secret of the universe itself. And the emperor had grasped one for the potential of draconic might.


    Try as he may, Kingean couldn¡¯t achieve such an enlightenment. It was seemingly impossible. For many years, his climb in cultivation had been akin to climbing a mountain that grew a step higher with each step he took. And he had realized why.


    For each new strand of potential he grasped, he lost the most useless one he had. So he thought that that must be the thing he had to do. He had to purify his cultivation through sheer, indescribable effort until nothing but the sword remained. So he did that. And still.


    Nothing.


    As he walked beside his cowardly companions, treading into the Abyssal Depths, spite billowed in the back of his throat. Not only had his companions failed him in every way imaginable, but his son was also missing.


    The progeny he had brought up with everything he had, a talent unseen in generations, was lost, and he was busy looking for a different child. Perhaps, he thought, by some miracle, his son was still alive. Maybe the Lost Child was the one who had taken him for whatever reason.


    After all, nobody had confirmed the identity of the one who had taken his son. Nobody had even seen the person who had done it. But¡­ he was already prepared for the worst.


    He couldn¡¯t stop himself from shooting an envious glance at the emperor. Despite possessing power unrivaled in the entire realm, he was still greedily looking for more. No¡­ he shouldn¡¯t think like that. He had sworn his loyalty, and he intended to keep it.


    But¡­


    But he had worked so hard. Not only that, but he had lost his son, too. It was a shameful, despicable thought, but he wondered why the emperor didn¡¯t ask the demigod to hand the true strand to¡­ well¡­ to him instead.


    Again, that was a shameful, terrible thought to have. The emperor¡¯s power would become a pillar unrivaled in the entire realm, and with such might, he could even work to stave away the encroaching apocalypse.


    But¡­ no. Enough doubts. They had a mission.


    Their steps, as light and graceful as they could be, took them through the maze of caverns in their search. They had been there for a few hours, but the heavens hadn¡¯t graced them with a trail yet. Still, they tirelessly marched onward, ensuring to cover every inch on their way down, keeping to the inside of the detection field Hosolar had set up.


    It was then that they finally found their first trail.


    The emperor frowned deeply at the sight before him. An entire section of the caverns had been nearly caved in in what could have only been a calamity. Signs of fighting were plentiful, and several still-rotting pieces of monster corpses were scattered around.


    There had been a population of¡­ some form of insectoid monster here. Something that appeared to be half-way between an ant and a praying mantis. Had been. None of them remained, and they could only form their hypothesis from the few remaining pieces.


    Either this was the consequence of a large-scale war between monster populations, or it was a sign that the Lost Child had passed through.


    So, they went forward.


    Not long after, they found another cavern wholly destroyed by something horrible. This time, it was an encampment of at least partially sentient golems.


    ¡°Heavens above¡­¡± Xondir muttered at the sight.


    The others, who were far more experienced, had little to say, but¡­


    Indeed. This was something else. The golems, from what they could see, were as high as platinum-ranked in threat. And all that they had built had been wholly destroyed and stripped of any valuable materials that could be found.


    So they passed by it, proceeding even deeper. Cave after cave, monster after monster. Destroyed. And dead. There was enough carnage to permanently upset the balance between the populations of monsters in the area.


    They believed they were on the right track, and perhaps they had been right. But the destruction spread everywhere. How was it even possible to leave so much destroyed in one¡¯s wake in such a short time?


    ¡°The Lost Child is presumed to be capable of fighting well above his rank,¡± the Emperor said, ¡°but this makes no sense. There is too much destruction.¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Carfen said, lowering his head slightly as he turned to face the Emperor. ¡°That child should not have the stamina to keep fighting so long,¡± he proclaimed with more confidence than Kingean felt was warranted.


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    ¡°We shall see,¡± the Emperor said. ¡°Perhaps he is looking for something specific, but it seems that he is gathering vast quantities of monster flesh for¡­ something.¡±


    And thus, they continued. The unnerving nature of trekking after the child was something they couldn¡¯t shrug off easily. Even if they presumed that he could fight with the power of a Master and that his companions were of similar strength, they shouldn¡¯t have been able to successfully eradicate such a vast number of monsters. It was to the point of a genocide. Rarely did they encounter something that hadn¡¯t been destroyed. Besides, where were all the monster corpses going?


    Even if ten people were walking through here with the largest dimension rings available, there still wouldn¡¯t be enough space to store this many corpses.


    Continuing their trek, all of them, even the emperor himself, grew more nervous at what awaited them.


    ***


    Neave looked at his companions and smiled pleasantly. They were all lying on the ground, their stomachs bulging while they groaned.


    ¡°Please¡­ no more¡­¡± said Dukean as a bit of red liquid dripped down his mouth.


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna die,¡± said Hunter. ¡°The righteous path will¡­ blegh.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shut it, you cowards,¡± said Harel, who sounded like she was doing no better than any of them.


    Marven and Gabrias remained silent, groaning and doing their best not to throw it all up.


    Eventually, they finished digesting the final few bits of the dragon. It had taken them a long time to complete all of it, and, thankfully, Neave had the brilliant idea to feed them the stomach right after the heads in hopes of enhancing their digestion. It was successful, but that didn¡¯t mean that it had made the process of devouring an entire dragon an enjoyable one.


    There was no true limit to the benefits of devouring monster flesh. Well, there was no hard limit, at least. But with every bite, it grew less and less effective. By that point, their vessels had been nearly filled with how much they had consumed over the past week.


    With that, they should have enough power to tackle the series of spirit trials they would have to take. Well, the spirit trials would be easy. But they were powerful enough to have their powers removed in case they didn¡¯t cooperate as well as Neave expected them to.


    He extracted the bag of monster cores with a small burst of qi. Most of them he had purchased from Kalen, and it hadn¡¯t been too expensive. The quality of the shape was irrelevant to him as long as they fit the criteria he set.


    As for the rest, they had found them while digging through the numerous monsters they had slain.


    He rounded all the cores and started organizing them.


    Each one of them, barring Dukean, would get four spirit powers. Dukean would only get one since he decided to stubbornly cling to his elemental spirit powers like a tool. This was the amount that, with the types of powers he selected, he decided was safe enough from any possible negative interaction between them.


    They would get one physique ability, the only power Dukean would get, one supernatural attack-augmenting ability, one supernatural boosting ability, and one miscellaneous power. For the time being, the powers were all potent Platinum-ranked abilities, and it would be their task to upgrade them to diamond-ranked if possible. This was another reason they had been eating so much monster flesh¡ªthey would try to boost their spirit powers to diamond rank as soon as they received them.


    First, he neatly placed all the cores in six piles. The first was for his father.


    Marven would get the following spirit powers¡ªKing Archgoblin Supreme Physique, Severing Light, Ultra Speed Boost, and Sword Saint¡¯s Domain.


    King Archgoblin Supreme Physique was the closest thing to a supernatural human physique there was. They were nearly identical to humans. And men wielded swords as their claws, or so Marven claimed. Still, for a swordsman, it was an all-around excellent choice.


    Severing Light imbued his strikes with a, well, Severing Light.


    Ultra Speed Boost was self-explanatory.


    As for the Sword Saint¡¯s Domain, that was something to be seen. Apparently, it should create an area where all cutting force works in his favor. How it would work was still to be discovered.


    Next up was Harel. She would get these¡ªSuperior Blood Python Physique, Withering Touch, Ultra Speed Boost, and Lifeforce Siphon.


    Superior Blood Python Physique held incredibly potent burst potential and could, just like a coiled snake lunging into a bite, display an utterly insane amount of sudden force. It also allowed her to slither around strikes better.


    Then, there was Withering Touch. Her every strike would make things wither and rot. As if her set wasn¡¯t already destructive enough. But alas, her crazy nature worked in Neave¡¯s favor, so he had no desire to question it.


    Ultra Speed Boost was, yet again, self-explanatory.


    Then, there was Lifeforce Siphon. It allowed her to steal life force from creatures she struck and convert it into her own. If she had any injuries, that life force would also be automatically burned to heal her. It wasn¡¯t quite as potent as Neave¡¯s Integrate, as it had a limit for the life force it could absorb, but it was something special nonetheless.


    Then, there was Hunter. For him, he decided on Black Wyvern Physique, Force Control, Super Regeneration, and Ultimate Barrier.


    Black wyverns had some of the most potent defenses they could find. Golems, however, rarely dropped physique cores, and when they did, only a fool would take one as it was practically suicide. It wasn¡¯t quite black dragon territory, but an evolution would hopefully fix that without killing the poor boy.


    Force Control was superb as it would do well with the power Neave intended to bestow upon the boy¡¯s equipment, and it could be used both offensively and defensively.


    Super Regeneration was¡­ Yes. It was what it was.


    And, finally, there was Ultimate Barrier. He could create a barrier around himself, either all-encompassing or more concentrated.


    And, finally, there was Gabrias. Superior Ogre Physique, Homing Projectile, Ultra Strength Boost, Momentum Impartment.


    If Neave was being honest, he envied the tall man. An archer needed all the strength they could get, and this dude would be able to pull dragon tendons apart with his bare hands. With the supernaturally boosted strength of an ogre, the ability to imbue projectiles with additional momentum, and the power to make those projectiles track an opponent, it was clear that getting hit by his arrows would be one hell of an experience.


    And then there was Dukey Boy. Stupid prick got Elementalist Hawk Physique so that he could better resist his own powers. What a stubborn guy.


    While his companions went at it and consumed their powers, he moved his attention to something else¡ªit was time to create their weapons¡ªthis time, from diamond-ranked material.

 Chapter 140 - Test Dummy

    Marven stood in his spirit realm. It still took the form of the golden fields he used to toil in, but it had been thoroughly wrecked by that point. Destruction spread all around him.


    Unknowingly, he had almost the same thought as his companions at roughly the same time.


    ¡®Isn¡¯t this a little too easy?¡¯


    They hadn¡¯t ascended to the diamond path yet due to the demigod and the emperor¡¯s ability to track them if they did so, so they were only at the level of a Master. But that didn¡¯t matter one bit.


    The emperor archgoblin stood before him. It was eerily similar to a human. Barring its slightly green skin and pointed ears, it was impossible to tell it apart from any ordinary person. If he had met this thing in the streets, he wouldn¡¯t have even batted an eye. He would have just thought it was a spirit beast. It was clothed in the primitive garb of its kin and held a sword high with pride. He had already slain the three other diamond-ranked threats. And this was the last one.


    It glared at him with intelligent hatred in its eyes, ¡°Preposterous,¡± it spat. ¡°To have achieved this level of power¡­ only to be forced to surrender it to another? I can not accept it.¡±


    It raised its blade. Marven raised his in turn.


    The two combatants stared at each other for a few moments. Then, they dashed.


    His sword curved beneath the guard of the goblin with speed easily rivaling its own. To have closed the speed difference between the third step of the platinum and the first step of the diamond path was an unbelievable achievement. His son¡¯s means were indeed out of this world.


    But his superior physical abilities were not why he dominated the fight. The goblin moved to block the incoming strike, but then suddenly, his sword appeared from above, traveling from the exact opposite direction.


    A surprised ¡°Wha¡ª!?¡± was all it could muster as the sword made a nasty gash down its torso.


    ¡°My son taught me that one,¡± he shared with a grin, and, with the wound he inflicted, gained the upper hand, proceeding to dominate the fight.


    With a curved piercing technique, he cut through the goblin¡¯s arm and into its torso, then kicked it right into a heavenly image of a sword descending from the sky, which pierced through its body and pinned it to the ground.


    Marven took a deep breath. Then, as if the heavens themselves were stepping in, the sky morphed into a thousand images of blades like the one he held in his hands. They struck like lightning, turning the archgoblin into a pincushion and ending the fight.


    As he finished his trial, having evolved all his abilities to diamond rank, he looked at the others. Nobody even appeared tired. Raised eyebrows made rounds as they all realized they weren¡¯t alone in their confusion. Indeed. It turned out that having unquantifiable years of fighting experience and power superior to first-step-diamond-path cultivators made such a trial almost disappointingly easy.


    ***


    Neave grinned down at them like a toddler who had just prepared a highly unpleasant surprise for his parents as he raised an eyebrow, ¡°No problems, then?¡±


    They shrugged. Even Gabrias hadn¡¯t struggled. With his techniques, which allowed him to manifest qi arrows, and his movement techniques, he had probably pelted his opponents from a distance. Heavens knew that nothing he had fought was particularly fast, even at diamond rank.


    He pondered their states and then asked, ¡°Any surprising evolutions?¡± he asked. He was hoping that nothing of the sort would ruin their power. But he had hopefully accounted enough for such possibilities.


    All of them raised a hand at that. He couldn¡¯t hold back the sigh as he first pointed at Marven.


    His father started his recount of the changes. ¡°The Sword Saint¡¯s Domain,¡± he said, ¡°has become¡­ Well, how do I put it? Anything that I slay within it becomes a temporary sword spirit that fights by my side.¡±


    That was pretty neat. But it likely wouldn¡¯t be much help in the fight against Hosolar.  ¡°Anything else?¡± he asked him.


    ¡°No¡­ Not really,¡± Marven shrugged. ¡°Severing Light had acquired a spinning function, but that¡¯s about it.¡±


    So everything was fine there. Then, he turned to Harel. ¡°What changed with you?¡±


    She thought for a moment. ¡°Right about everything,¡± she said.


    That was not pretty neat. But he reserved his judgment for when she finished sharing the details.


    ¡°Let me see,¡± she started. ¡°Superior Blood Python Physique became Winged Python Physique. Withering Touch is a lot more potent, but it also has some backlash and hurts me, too, but I think it''s fine, mostly. The speed power now has a burst function, and Lifeforce Syphon no longer has a limit, but there is nothing to prevent the excessive lifeforce from hurting me, either.¡±


    He thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. ¡°Not optimal, but you can learn to cope with it.¡± Then, finally unable to restrain himself from asking, he chirped. ¡°Did you get wings!?¡±


    She smirked, and a pair of fleshy, scaly red wings appeared behind her.


    ¡°Wooooow,¡± Neave clapped. ¡°That¡¯s so cool! Okay, next.¡±


    Hunter was mostly spared unfortunate changes, but his Ultimate Barrier became the victim of ill luck. It became considerably more powerful, but it could only be used in the all-encompassing mode, and he could no longer move when he used it. Well, he could move, but not the barrier. It stayed wherever he put it. This wasn¡¯t to say it was a terrible change, but the power lost much of its flexibility.


    Neave sighed. ¡°Can you at least decide who gets to move through it?¡±


    Hunter winced and shook his head. ¡°No. In fact, while I can move through it, anyone inside or outside the barrier can¡¯t.¡±


    That made him pause. ¡°Well, couldn¡¯t you use it to trap someone, then?¡±


    The boy gaped briefly, cupped his chin, then reluctantly nodded. ¡°That is technically possible, but not even I can attack the person while they¡¯re trapped.¡±


    Which made it pretty useless against the demigod, who was the exact person they needed to use it against.


    ¡°What about your other powers?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Mostly the same,¡± Hunter answered. ¡°Although Black Wyvern Physique did turn into Black Dragon Physique, just as we presumed.¡±


    ¡°Nice,¡± Neave said, throwing his brother a high five.


    Next up was Gabrias. It was then that they noticed how grave the man looked.


    ¡°Oh, no,¡± he groaned. ¡°What went wrong?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­,¡± he started reluctantly. ¡°First, the Homing Projectiles spirit power is basically gone. It diverged completely and evolved into Splitting Projectiles.¡±


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    That was¡­ Well, it depended on how it worked, but seeing the lack of excitement in Gabrias¡¯ expression, it probably wasn¡¯t optimal.


    He continued, ¡°As you probably assume, My Lord, it is¡­ not the best. It merely copies the shape of the projectile into five phantasmal replicas, but their power is limited to what the spirit power itself can recreate. But¡ª¡± he said, raising a finger. ¡°If I invest life force into it, I can recreate the projectile more accurately¡ªnaturally, the more life force, the closer the copy will be to the original.¡±


    Well. That was depressing. Nobody expected Hosolar, a demigod heavenly messenger, to be an easy target to hit, and that was precisely why they had picked the Homing Projectiles spirit power, to begin with. Who cared how many replicas he could create if none of them hit?


    Sighing, Neave asked, ¡°Any other changes?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡±


    That didn¡¯t sound good.


    ¡°My strength-boosting power has also changed. Now, it is more effective the more injured I am.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on!¡± he groaned. That really sucked. Gabrias was meant to stay as in one piece as possible and as far as he could go. ¡°Does your lifeforce being low count as an injury?¡± he asked.


    ¡°No,¡± and the man denied.


    ¡°Is it at least as strong as it was at platinum-rank if you¡¯re perfectly healthy?¡±


    The man shook his head again. Neave was really hoping that that was it for divergences. And thankfully, Gabrias confirmed that to be the case.


    Next up was Dukean, who was smirking. That definitely meant that that asshole got something good.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Neave asked. ¡°Come on, spit it out.¡±


    ¡°Three words¡ªElemental Pheonix Physique.¡±


    Everyone nodded at that.


    ¡°Let me guess,¡± Neave started. ¡°You get to resurrect when you die?¡±


    ¡°Once a day,¡± he declared arrogantly. ¡°Not only am I highly resistant to all elements, but I also resurrect in a storm of elemental energies.¡±


    ¡°Oh, great,¡± Harel said, snorting at him. ¡°We have acquired a walking bomb as an ally.¡±


    The others chuckled at that a bit. And then, it was time to ask the big question. ¡°What about your¡­ other powers.¡±


    Indeed. His other powers had all been at gold rank.


    Dukean sighed at the question. ¡°The same as in the Nightmare Realm.¡±


    Well, that was to be expected. His powers then evolved into Hellfire Annihilation, Supreme Metal Manipulation, Heat Syphon, Storm Manipulation, and Supreme Earth Manipulation. Only two out of five powers were anywhere close to what they were at the start. Neither of them synergized particularly well, but there was no overt interference between them, so he wouldn¡¯t press the issue too hard.


    But that didn¡¯t mean that they were optimal. Hellfire Annihilation was too fickle and unstable, Heat Syphon could only be used through direct touch, and Storm Manipulation was¡­ honestly? Kind of useless. Sure, he could technically strike someone with lightning, but it was about as reliable as a rain dance and a prayer. Not to mention that it had quite literally zero use underground.


    The overall situation wasn¡¯t that bad. They had some workarounds, but nobody had to start from the beginning, which was good. The main course had been served¡ªand now, it was time for the dessert.


    Neave started taking their weapons out of his dimension ring.


    Indeed. This had been the thing that they were lacking while in the Nightmare Realm. High-ranked metals. Working with diamond-rank metal had been an utter pain in the ass for him, however, and he was hoping that their spirits could bear using them until they could ascend to the diamond path.


    The first item he pulled out was Marven¡¯s new sword. It was made from a red diamond-rank metal that the old man had provided himself, actually. He had a red sword in his dimension ring, but it was something he could only use outside of combat, as it required perfect focus, lest he killed himself with it.


    Neave had shaped it to the best of his ability and imbued it with a standard sharpness-enhancing spirit power. Naturally, he had also treated the material through alchemy techniques. It was yet again lighter than a feather. Frankly, with Marven¡¯s set of spirit powers, he would be surprised if there was anything that the old man couldn¡¯t cut apart.


    Next up was Harel¡¯s spiked ball on a chain. His new one was made of a material that strikingly resembled ordinary steel but was anything but. Yet another weapon of diamond-ranked material, this one purchased from the merchant in the capital.


    It yet again held a destructive power within.


    Hunter¡¯s massive sword and heavy shield were much of the same fare as his weapons back in the loop, but the roles were shifted slightly. The sword no longer had the same force-ignoring properties, but it could reflect force instead, while the shield could absorb it. It was a slight departure from his previous style but one that worked better, in everyone¡¯s opinion.


    Also, he had unfortunately been forced to make the two weapons out of platinum-ranked material instead of diamond-ranked material. Not only were two weapons with diamond ranked material way too heavy for Hunter¡¯s spirit, but using two diamond-ranked weapons with gigantic spirits just wasn¡¯t possible. They clashed too much and hyper-accelerated the qi flowing through them until either the weapons or their user exploded.


    Gabrias received not one but seven different bows. With a dimension ring on his finger, he could swap between them at a moment¡¯s notice, and there was no excuse not to prepare for every possibility.


    The first bow, one made from a brown, sleek metal, was just really damn hard to pull and multiplied the force of every arrow shot out of it. It needed to be used with real arrows, which were also prepared. He was meant to use this when he was handed a solid opportunity.


    Then, there were the death, fire, wind, ice, and metal-type bows. All manifested their own arrows and had different elemental effects. They were to be swapped and used however he wished.


    And then there was the final weapon. A golden bow. This thing was terrifying to hold. Its power was quite simple¡ªit imbued the arrow with turbulent energy. But, half of one¡¯s current life force reserves had to be spent to even use it. Neave had tried pulling it a bit, but thankfully, he could not. It would have probably exploded if it tried absorbing half the life force he had in his body.


    Then there was Dukean. His was a perfectly black sword on a chain. The power it held was practically identical to the one he used to have, as per his request. Neave had to recreate the weapon several times to get the desired effect. It didn¡¯t take long, however. And it was just a really high-quality weapon overall¡ªif a bit underwhelming.


    They all tested their weapons for a while, admiring the intense power it provided them with. Neave, meanwhile, stared at them enviously. He¡¯d have to use poopy mortal metals. Bleh.


    Suddenly, all of them perked up. They were probably sensing something outside of the range of his senses. And it was clearly not to be ignored.


    ¡°Neave,¡± Marven said gravely. ¡°We should run. Now,¡± he urged him.


    ¡°Is it the messenger?¡± he asked.


    ¡°No, but¡ª¡±


    ¡°Then no problem,¡± he said dismissively. ¡°It¡¯s probably a monster, then.¡±


    ¡°Neave, I¡¯m not sure you¡ª¡±


    ¡°I know, old man, I know. But think about it. You all need to put your new powers to the test, right?¡± he asked with a massive grin on his face. ¡°Let¡¯s see how well you truly do in action.¡±


    ***


    The first thing she had sensed were¡­ objects. Weapons of great power. But it didn¡¯t make much sense. For those wielding these weapons were¡­ weak. Perhaps as strong as some of the lowly wyverns. She approached their position, curious and apprehensive.


    There, she stepped out into a vast clearing in an underground cavern. Before her stood five creatures. They held those weapons with grace but were clearly on guard. Had they known that she was coming? If so, they had acute senses.


    No matter. She would slay them anyway as she searched for the one who¡ª


    ¡°Whoa, this thing is pretty powerful!¡± something yelled from below. There, she spotted one of these things, but in the form of a pink-maned youngling.


    She swung her claws out of reflex and struck it directly in the torso. Although it could somehow speak, it was pathetically weak, even weaker than the grown ones. So weak she couldn¡¯t sense any power from it at all. A single swing of her arm had turned its body into a gory mess and scattered it across the caverns.


    Then, she blinked. And then blinked again.


    That youngling that she had just killed a moment ago¡­ it reappeared. In the literal time it took her to blink an eye. Something was wrong.


    It turned to the others beside it and cupped its chin. ¡°I think you guys should take this thing without my help,¡± it declared as if she weren¡¯t even standing there. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, though. I¡¯m going to step in if something goes wrong.¡±


    Something was terribly wrong. Every instinct in her body flared up, warning her of the danger.


    ¡°By the way,¡± the creature spoke into her ears, suddenly appearing to her left side, and she once more swung, this time pulverizing it into a pink mist. But it reappeared to her right side in the next instant and said, ¡°Do your best! No need to hold back!¡±

 Chapter 141 - The One They Must Slay

    Jeevian didn¡¯t consider himself a cold person. Many would deem his intentions as malicious, but he truly didn¡¯t think there was anything evil to what he was doing. He would save a realm from destruction, so it was only natural to become the one who ruled it.


    But at that moment, he had a thought that anyone would agree wasn¡¯t particularly moral. As he looked at Xondir, Zhaore¡¯s successor, he had the brief thought that the man¡¯s death might have been fortunate.


    Zhaore had been old, really old, and his power came from a time where spirit powers were viewed somewhat differently. His abilties were potent, but they weren¡¯t balanced. There were too many flaws and shortcomings to his powers, and it was only through his tireless work at mastering them that they made him useful enough not to be discarded.


    Xondir, on the other hand, was a product of much nurturing. His spirit powers had been picked carefully, meticulously, with the intent to make them as flawless as they could be. And there was no better example of this than the man¡¯s Shadow Veil. Zhaore had had a very similar ability himself, but it had too many shortcomings.


    Xondir¡¯s power, on the other hand? It was exactly what they needed in that scenario. They felt it. Something horrible crawled out of the depths, at least as powerful as the myth golem they had lost a fight to. If not even more. It seemed to be moving with haste, something uncharacteristic of such monsters.


    Thus, Jeevian had a concerning thought¡ªwhat if it was after Neave Zearthorn? If the carnage they had witnessed up to that point was any indication, then Neave had been wrecking the underground, causing mass havoc. There was some possibility that this had invited the wrath of a beast that would end his and his companions¡¯ lives.


    If that happened, it would naturally not be their fault. But would the messenger see it as such? Extinguishing their lives to quell his anger was not out of the option, but it was guaranteed that he would lose the opportunity to ascend far above the ceiling of power in this realm.


    Thus, he commanded Xondir to veil them and told the others to rush forth. With their cooperation in subduing their presence, not even a creature of that power would be able to sense them. And if it was heading toward the Lost Child, this was a great opportunity to capture him while he was distracted with running away from that thing.


    So, they marched onwards, scurrying through the shadows as they approached their destination. The monster suddenly stopped, and the presence of five¡­ Masters¡­ entered their spirit senses. That was unusual. The allies the child had been with were said to be much weaker than this, or, well, they should have been. Something was strange. Kingean son was also among them.


    But as they stepped into the clearing where the humanoid elder black dragon stood, facing the, not five, but six people, they witnessed something uttely unbelievable. Multiple times, the Lost Child had his entire body pulverized, only to reform it in an instant.


    He stood at the black dragon¡¯s side as if it could do nothing to truly hurt him, and even commanded his allies to fight it! What in this realm could five measly Masters do against such a monstrocity? That was the question they had asked. And the answer the received was not one they were expecting.


    The weapons those five masters wielded were some of the most terrifying pieces of equipment any of them had ever seen.


    A young man wielding a shield and sword rushed forward, taking the intiative to strike. The dragon struck back in its anger, but the shield in the young man¡¯s hands bound itself to space itself in one of the most impressive defensive qi techniques they had ever witnessed.


    What should have been an immense strike petered out as if it were nothing but a mortal punch, and the young man swung his sword at the bewildered monster. As it landed, the dragon was sent flying back, but before it could land, a black sword on a chain rushed forward in a blink and wrapped itself around it.


    An arrow of steel slammed into the dragon¡¯s shoulder, the mirage of a blade cut its arm off, and then the young girl rushed¡ª


    ¡°Nice view you guys have from here, mind if I join in?¡± someone asked.


    Jeevian whirled to find the demon child sitting on the floor right beside them, smiling as he looked at the fight. ¡°Ah!¡± he yelled, pointing at the dragon. ¡°Here comes the best part!¡±


    Suddenly, using an immensely powerful movement technique, the young woman positioned herself above the black dragon. Her spiked ball was raised above her, and with the power of a divine snake lunging into a bite, she started swinging it down, golden runes sparking to light around her and even materializing the spirit of the creature emobodying her weapon in the form of a giant royal iron golem swinging its fist down.


    Energy embodying death itself pulsed into the weapon as it struck the dragon¡¯s head. Instanly, the creature¡¯s entire body was disintegrated, and the strike shook the earth with such might that nobody could keep their footing stable.


    ¡°That was amazing!¡± Neave cheered. Then, with a vacant gaze, he turned his eyes to Carfen.


    In an instant, he appeared before their companion¡¯s back and kicked him out of their shadow veil.


    ¡°Gabrias!¡± he yelled. ¡°Full force, kill the bastard!¡±


    Their blood ran cold as they watched the man whip out a golden bow in an instant and pull its string. None of them even had the time to react. All carfen could do was watch powerlessly as a golden beam of light struck his armor. There was no great destruction. No shaking of earth this time.


    The arrow traveled through his armor as if it were mere air and left through the other side, sinking into the earth never to be seen again. Carfen froze. Then, cracks began speading through his armor¡ªthe cursed bullwark that couldn¡¯t be taken off, the symbol of his eternal servitude of the empire.


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    In seconds, the armor vanished. But what lay on the other side wasn¡¯t what they expected to see.


    Dark skin. Thin, wretched limbs. The creature had a mouth full of serrated teeth and the eyes of a beast. Its head was covered in a sparse collection of bony spikes.


    All this time¡­ all these years¡­ the person below the surface of what they knew as an ally they could trust with their very lives¡­. had been a demon.


    ***


    Neave stared at the demon corpse on the ground. The dragon lady was mush. The people around him were frozen stiff, their minds uncomprehending, and his own allies were looking around frantically.


    ¡°Neave!¡± Marven yelled. ¡°What is this!? Where did you go!?¡±


    ¡°Oh, they can¡¯t see me, can they?¡± he whispered, then turned to the black-haired man who was maintaining the veil of shadows. He knew this person. In fact, he remembered him quite clearly. Thus, without hestitation, his arm stretched out and he grabbed him by the neck.


    The veil collapsed and his allies immediately turned to them, spotting him holding the man¡¯s neck. Unhesitantly, all of them turned their weapons towards the interlopers, ready to strike even with Neave in their midst. It had been a long time since any of them felt afraid that he would die from¡­ well¡­ anything, so they wouldn¡¯t hesitate to attack with all their might.


    ¡°Wait!¡± the manly man with greying hair said, reaching an arm out. ¡°I am Emperor Jeevian Lloude Dust, ruler of the Yixine Empire! Stay your hand.¡±


    Neave looked at him, noddeed, then stretched him arm out and proceeded to slam the black-haired man¡¯s head into the ground a dozen times.


    ¡°Stop!¡± the emperor yelled. ¡°What are you doing!?¡±


    ¡°I should be asking you that, you damn rat!¡± he retorted. ¡°Why are you scurrying around here with a fucking demon in your midst!?¡±


    ¡°D¡­ Dukean?¡± someone asked.


    Neave turned to face the green-haired man who starkly resembled his friend. That must be Dukean¡¯s father, then? Things had gotten complicated.


    ¡°Marven Zearthorn!¡± the emperor yelled again. ¡°Are you behind this!? What is happening here!?¡±


    ¡°You!¡± Dukean¡¯s father suddenly whirled, pointing at the emperor. ¡°Carfen was a demon. Did you know about this!?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know¡­¡±


    ¡°Please, calm yourselves!¡± the pretty lady beside them yelled.


    ¡°Okay, spirit oath time!¡± Neave declared. ¡°All four of you, swear upon your spirits that you aren¡¯t involved with demons.¡±


    ¡°Of course we¡ª!¡± Dukean¡¯s dad tried, but Neave cut his words short with a kick to the head, sending the man tumbling into the far wall.


    ¡°No bullshit,¡± he said, turning to face the emperor. Before the man could pull it back, Neave grabbed his hand in a handshake and threatened, ¡°Pull your arm back and I¡¯ll rip it off. Now swear it.¡±


    ¡°I swear upon my soul,¡± the man rushed, bewildered at the sheer strength behind Neave¡¯s grip, ¡°That I have no involvement with demons!¡±


    Then, in the next instant, he grabbed the pretty lady¡¯s hand. ¡°You next.¡±


    She was sweating. That was unusual for a diamond-path cultivator, to say the least. But she opened her mouth and spoke. ¡°I swear upon my soul that I have no involvement with demons.¡±


    The oath went through without a hitch, although it did feel a little strange. The woman¡¯s spirit was probably roiling due to the shock she was experiencing, so he let it go and walked over to the man he had beaten up. He was already getting up, so Neave rushed and grabbed his hand.


    The man shook profusely as he muttered. ¡°I¡ªI¡ªI¡ªI¡­ I have¡­ N-no invo¡­ involvement with d¡ªd¡ªdemons whatso¨Cever.¡±


    Again, it felt strange, even stranger than the other woman¡¯s oath, but he seemed to be telling the truth. However¡ª


    ¡°Ah!¡± Neave suddenly exclaimed. ¡°I seem to have remembered something! Do you remember that time we met during the rift break?¡±


    The man¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°I¡­¡±


    ¡°Tell me¡­ What the fuck was that about?¡±


    The man¡¯s breating grew increasingly ragged, and he looked like he was about to faint. ¡°I¡­ I was just¡­ I th¡ªthought you¨Cyou were an invader, so I¡­¡±


    ¡°Wrong answer!¡± he decreed as he felt the oath break. The man¡¯s spirit recoiled due to the lie he just said and he collapsed to his knees, struggling to breathe as his eyes bulged out of his skull. Must have been one hell of a lie if he suffered that much damage.


    There was only one thing to do, he thought, as he raised his fist to¡ª


    ¡°Stop!¡± the emperor yelled. ¡°Please, stop!¡± he rushed forth, stepping in front of the shivering figure on the floor. ¡°Please, my subordinate is too distressed to make spirit oaths! He is new to our ranks, and the shock of our companion being a demon is too great!¡± Without any shame, the man lowered his head, prostrating himself before Neave. ¡°Please, I beg your benevolence. Spare my companion¡¯s life!¡±


    ¡°Hmmm, let me think about it¡­¡± Neave mused. ¡°No.¡± Then, in an instant, he appeared above the shivering man and swung an arm that had morphed into a blade right through his neck, severing it instantly.


    Why would he spare him? There was no goddamn way that the thing he did during the break was benign or some sort of misunderstanding.


    All that the emperor could do was watch in shock. The man knew his place, at least.


    At this point, Dukean¡¯s father dragged himself out of the hole Neave had blasted him into, wiping the blood flowing from the wound on his head. ¡°My emperor,¡± he said, staring the still-kneeling man in the eye. ¡°Do you remember the time Carfen swore the oath?¡±


    The Emperor reluctantly nodded his head.


    ¡°That must have been a lie,¡± he said, eyes shot open maniacally as they turned to face the pretty lady who was still with them. ¡°I believe he had some sort of devilish protection that allowed him to forge the spirit oath. And I think Beanna has it, too.¡±


    The woman stared blankly at him. ¡°You¡¯re wrong¡­¡±


    ¡°Am I!?¡± the man screamed. ¡°Am I wrong!? First Zhaore¡¯s death, then your reaction to the messenger, then you let your favourite descendant be taken without a fight! None of that makes any sense if you¡¯re the Beanna I know! Or, rather, the person you¡¯re pretending to be!¡±


    Neave watched the fight between the two people, but he kept an eye on the woman, watching her every move. Her dimension ring lit up. In the instant she was dragging an item out, he knew exactly what it was. It was the same thing Ilkivir had used in their fight, the artifact he used to escape.


    Before she could pull it out and use it, he was upon her and swinging a leg at her head. Suddenly, a dark energy swirled and interscepted his strike, giving her an instant to step away. Neave wanted to press the attack, but something suddenly changed.


    A horrifying, ungodly pressure descended on all the people in that room as a mirage appeared. It was faint, but it appeared to be a bleeding, descrepit creature wrapped in bloody bandages from head to toe.


    ¡°You¡­¡± it spoke in a deep, gurgly voice, as if it was choking on blood. ¡°So¡­ you¡­ are¡­ the one¡­ we need¡­ to slay.¡±

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 Chapter 142 - Small Favor

    The sound of blood dripping on the stony ground was all that could be heard as the air in the room froze. The blurry image of the creature before them stood there for another few moments, and then it vanished. By the time it did, the woman was already gone.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± Neave yelled. ¡°Heavens fucking damn it! I wish I had realized it''s an illusion sooner! Damn, that was convincing.¡±


    ¡°Hahaha¡­¡± Dukean¡¯s dad chuckled. Then, he started cackling like a lunatic. ¡°I can¡¯t believe it! Everyone I knew¡ªack!¡± he choked as Neave appeared before him and grabbed his neck.


    ¡°Dukean!¡± he commanded, and the young master whipped his chain sword, restraining the emperor, who, surprisingly, didn¡¯t resist.


    ¡°Now then,¡± he said, turning to the man whose neck he was gripping so tightly it bled. ¡°Time to see whether this one has any ties to the demons.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry about that,¡± Dukean said. ¡°My old man is clean, I know for a fact.¡±


    He decided to trust his companion¡¯s words, so he let the man fall to the ground.


    ¡°You¡¯re¡­ Kingean, right?¡± he asked, vaguely recollecting hearing the man¡¯s name somewhere.


    The man nodded slightly, his expression vacant.


    ¡°Okay. Wait here,¡± he commanded as he teleported before the emperor. ¡°So¡­ Nice to meet you, Your Highness,¡± he said snarkily. ¡°Care for another lil¡¯ spirit oath?¡± he said as he offered a hand.


    The emperor stood, unable to move due to the restraints, but Neave just stretched his arm and grasped the man¡¯s hand.


    ¡°I have no ties to the demons,¡± Jeevian declared regally, not a single hint of hesitation in his voice. ¡°And I have no intention of harming any of you¡­¡± he declared.


    None of that strange weirdness was present in this man¡¯s spirit oath, and it went through cleanly. So he was calm because he knew he was innocent. Neat. But that didn¡¯t mean that the man would be released.


    ¡°So then,¡± he started. ¡°Care to explain why you and your gang came after us?¡±


    The man scoffed. ¡°It was a command by Hosolar. There were promises of rewards, but we did it because of the implied consequences of disobeying.¡±


    ¡°Because he would have killed you if you refused?¡± he asked, nodding. ¡°Makes enough sense, I suppose. Do you care to explain why¡ª?¡±


    ¡°Child,¡± the man interrupted. ¡°I need to ask you a question in turn,¡± he declared, raising his eyes to stare Neave down without a single hint of fear or reluctance. ¡°What is it that you and your allies are aiming to accomplish?¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s easy,¡± he answered. ¡°We are gonna kill the heavenly messenger.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm,¡± the man hummed. ¡°I see,¡± he said, sighing heavily. ¡°I have been an utter fool for a long time, it seems. I¡¯ve been delusional, unaware that there are powers still beyond my reach, even in this tiny place. Say, child¡­ Do you wish to hear my tale?¡±


    ¡°Sounds like spirit oath time to me,¡± he said, grinning at the tied emperor.


    ¡°Very well.¡±


    ***


    After a short talk between Kingean and Dukean, the father and son settled and sat right beside everyone else. The emperor had been untied as he had sworn that he had no intent of getting violent, and then, he told them his story.


    It was quite shocking, to say the least. Apparently, the glorious emperor they knew was little more than a young master of a sect from a higher realm. Well, he wasn¡¯t young, not anymore, but he was stuck at the same level of power he had been at since he was twenty.


    What followed was a long tale of what had happened to him and how he got there. Apparently, he got stuck in a crumbling mystical realm and had to use a life-preserving treasure to seal himself away until the shard of space carrying him reattached itself to another realm. Unluckily for him, that small shard of space floated far from where he expected to end up.


    ¡°The omnirealms, as they¡¯re called,¡± the man said. ¡°Are a collection of interconnected universes that remain clumped together. You can think of it as numerous boats in the ocean, all tethered to one another with ropes. Sometimes, when a ship is set on fire or when the crew suffers a plague, the other ships cut it off, allowing it to float far into the ocean.


    ¡°That ship is basically where we find ourselves now. This is one such lost realm. And the plague¡ªthe fire that caused it to be cut off¡ªis the monster apocalypse.¡±


    The man continued his story, explaining everything he could to them. But he didn¡¯t know much. He had no clue how this monster apocalypse started, nor did he know what had caused it. All he knew was that the cores could provide something that should absolutely be out of reach for a lower realm like this.


    Spirit powers, apparently, weren¡¯t something that should be possible to acquire before at least the diamond path. And even then, the special procedure that allowed people to acquire them just couldn¡¯t be done within this realm. But although these cores were special, they were also apparently tainted¡ªwhich was something that nobody there was happy to learn.


    ¡°You need not worry,¡± he said, chuckling slightly at their displeased reactions. ¡°This taint isn¡¯t harmful to you. Well, not directly. It does hurt the gods, however. They sap their power from those following their paths¡ªevery time someone progresses along the path of the sword, for example, the twenty-nine sword gods split a small shard of power between them. But these cores have hints of demonic essence within.


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    ¡°It is the power that is the polar opposite of the path of the stone. And, as such, anyone tainted with monster cores provides no value to the gods, losing their alignment to both the demonic and the sacred paths.¡±


    All of these were realm-shaking revelations. Kingean looked stricken hearing all of this, and he clearly still hadn¡¯t gotten over the fact that his allies weren¡¯t who he thought they were.


    ¡°You said you wish to kill Hosolar?¡± the emperor asked.


    Neave nodded.


    ¡°Well, then you should know exactly what you¡¯re dealing with,¡± the man said with a frown, leaning forward slightly. ¡°When it comes to cultivation, Hosolar is at what you would know as the tenth step of the diamond path.¡±


    Neave gaped at that, his jaw stretching and literally falling to the ground. He sucked it back up, nodded with a smile, and said. ¡°Hell fucking no, dog, we running. Pack your bags, guys, because we¡¯re getting the fuck out of here!¡±


    ¡°Wait a moment!¡± the emperor called. ¡°The situation isn¡¯t as dire as you might believe.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s in a temporary avatar, right?¡± Neave asked.


    The emperor seemed shocked that he already knew this and nodded. ¡°That is correct.¡±


    ¡°Tell me, how limited is his power, then?¡±


    That made the man wince. ¡°I do not know. Given that he claims to be capable of helping someone grasp a true strand, he should still have at least the power of the sixth step.¡±


    ¡°Hell no!¡± Neave said again. ¡°What the fuck, man!?¡±


    ¡°Just hear me out,¡± the emperor said. ¡°Like I said, things might not be as bad as they seem. The power he holds is limited in several ways. First, any shred of power he uses is temporary¡ªmeaning that his cultivation will drop with every qi technique he uses.¡±


    That calmed Neave down slightly. ¡°Go on.¡±


    ¡°Also, he is rumored to have numerous spirit powers, but due to the nature of the avatar, he is restricted to only one. It will be powerful, though.¡±


    ¡°So what you¡¯re saying is¡­ If we can wear him down¡­?¡±


    The man nodded.


    Neave sighed. ¡°Okay, things aren¡¯t as bad as they seem; you¡¯re right.¡±


    But the emperor winced anyway. ¡°Still¡­ your companions are all at the peak of platinum. Their help, while surely great with the power they hold, will not be enough with just this.¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry, they¡¯ll all get up to the diamond path before the fight.¡±


    The emperor gaped at them and then chuckled. ¡°I see. May I suggest a course of action, then?¡±


    ¡°Depends,¡± Neave offered. ¡°What¡¯s in it for you?¡±


    The emperor grinned. ¡°I¡¯d much prefer having you as an ally. I know much about the Heavenly Pantheon and their ilk. They treat everyone below them as being lesser than ants.¡± Then, he turned to face Marven and grinned wryly, ¡°You, on the other hand, have managed to reconcile with your family, and you¡¯ve even spared my life. It is clear who among the two of you showed more humanity.¡±


    Neave didn''t buy it. It was a convenient excuse to make, but for the time being, he needed the help more than he needed to be cautious.


    "Very well," he said, nodding hesitantly. Then, he placed an arm on the emperor''s body. "Please do not resist."


    "What are you...?" the emperor tried asking, but his eyes suddenly shot open as he realized what Neave was trying to do.


    The man''s lifeforce was wrestled into a peculiar form, wrapping around the shape of his spirit as it fully isolated it from the outside.


    "There," Neave grinned. "With that, Hosolar should no longer be able to sense your location."


    ***


    Down the caves, the party of eight went. Kingean trodded slowly, unable to wrap his mind around all that happened. First, it turned out that all his allies had been keeping great secrets from him, and most of them weren¡¯t even his allies at all. And now Carfen was dead. Xondir was dead. Beanna was related to the demons. And then Dukean suddenly became many times more powerful than himself?


    It felt like he was losing his mind. The emperor had accepted everything easily. Too easily. That was how he always was. No matter how dire things became, his first reaction was to adapt and find a way to survive. Kingean felt that the man was downplaying the sheer magnitude of what he¡¯d done. As if surviving a crumbling mystical realm could be done so easily. Even with stasis, it would take immense willpower, patience, and determination to wait such a long time to be released. And for that, he truly admired the man, even his admiration conflicted with a myriad of other emotions fighting for prevalence.


    ¡°You seem distressed, Kingean,¡± the emperor said.


    Kingean looked away. ¡°Let me ask you something, Jeevian,¡± he said, unable to keep the hint of spite from entering his voice. ¡°That time, back when you told me to grasp for that true strand¡­ Is that really possible in this realm?¡±


    Jeevian seemed sad at hearing that. ¡°I do not know. But if I had to guess, then¡­ probably not.¡±


    ¡°So you lied to me?¡±


    ¡°I did not lie to you,¡± the man said. ¡°I told you the truth of what I¡¯ve done under spirit oath. And I promise that I do not truly know whether it is possible.¡± Then, turning around, he said, ¡°But I can tell you with honesty that I never wanted you to attain that degree of power.¡±


    Kingean was shocked to hear those words. And even more shocked that he had no problem believing them. ¡°I see,¡± he said, frowning. ¡°So you prefer a loyal dog who will forever stay below you?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± the emperor said honestly. ¡°Even now, your loyalty to me is waning. It has been ever since we lost against the myth golem. Because you learned that I am not invincible,¡± he declared, turning back to face the direction he was walking in. ¡°I¡¯ve seen many people like yourself, Kingean. Devoted with their lives¡­ until those you are devoted to become mere peers, or even below you. I am not proud of deceiving you, but search your heart and tell me that my words aren¡¯t true.¡±


    As much as he hated to admit it¡­ the man was right. Had Kingean ever reached Jeevian¡¯s level, he wouldn¡¯t have maintained the same degree of loyalty. He would have definitely sought to be treated equally, if not even¡­


    All that had happened today had shaken him to his core. This whole time, his entire life, he had lived knowing that there were worlds above them¡­ but to think that his power was so insignificant. To think that his work was so fruitless all this time. It made him bitter.


    ¡°Hey, Kingey boy,¡± a voice called. "Wow, you son and father really are similar!"


    He was broken out of his stupor by the Lost Child. The boy stood below him, gazing up at him with a wide grin on his face. There was something creepy, deeply unhuman behind those eyes. Dukean had kept Neave¡¯s secret hidden, so Kingean had no clue what precisely this thing before him even was.


    ¡°Can you list your spirit powers?¡± the child asked.


    ¡°Tch,¡± he clicked his tongue. ¡°Kid, why would I tell you anything about my powers?¡± he dismissed him, narrowing his eyes. This child could kill him in mere moments without even the faintest hopes of him being able to resist it, but he would rather die than throw his pride away.


    ¡°Oh, I guess you don¡¯t want these, then?¡± the kid asked, grinning widely at him.


    Kingean¡¯s eyes shot wide open at the four perfectly round cores. He gulped. Each of them was almost diamond-ranked in power.


    ¡°What¡­¡± he stuttered. ¡°What do you want in return for that?¡±


    The Lost Child Grinned. ¡°I just need a wee bit of help dealing with a certain demigod.¡±

 Chapter 143 - Golorgs

    Jeevian drank a cup of liquid. The power within made his entire body course with unimaginable might, and he couldn¡¯t stop himself from cackling in joy. If his father could witness this crazy child turning a dragon monster into an incredibly potent elixir, he would have spat blood and resigned from his position as an elder of the Descending Heavenly Dragon sect.


    After a while, the transformation of the dragon who had attacked Neave and his companions was undone. The small, humanoid form expanded into a massive pile of gored dragon flesh, and they all partook in the elixir the child created with it.


    It was splendid. Truly, this was something that defied all common sense. Consuming all parts of a dragon¡¯s body without limit or restraint¡­ It was something he could get addicted to.


    Jeevian had informed Neave and his allies of the demigod¡¯s current plans. He had sent a servant back to Langen, where he would likely recall several of their high paladins to fight. Given that it was Hosolar, he definitely already knew that the emperor and his companions had been thoroughly defeated.


    Given that that was the case, the paladins that would come after them would be¡­ problematic. When it came to establishments like Langen, they were really just damn cults. Their lives and power all belonged to those above them, and Hosolar was pretty damn far up that chain of command.


    He would undoubtedly inflict them with curses that would boost their power far above their rank in return for draining their life and dooming them to death. There were many diamond-path cultivators on the Langen continent. Usually, having a large number of diamond-path cultivators under one banner bred conflict. Everyone wanted a share of the pie, and if split too many times, many would be left dissatisfied and would initiate conflict in search of more.


    That was the primary reason why Jeevian had a strict policy on how many diamond pathers could be part of the empire. Too many and they would quickly lose their utility, growing more focused on fighting one another than handling the threat that hung above all of them.


    Meanwhile, Langen had no problem hoarding them. Because all of them were fucking brainwashed.


    Worst case scenario, they could face hundreds of diamond-path cultivators hunting them with the ferocity of wild beasts and the power of those whose very souls had been ignited.


    Neave¡­ well¡­ he didn¡¯t seem displeased to hear this. In fact, he acted as if this was good news. Frankly, Jeevian couldn¡¯t comprehend this insane child¡¯s thought process.


    Once they were done consuming the dragon, Neave distributed a few cores to Kingean and even offered some to Jeevian. While Jeevian wasn¡¯t averse to sullying his spirit, it would mean losing the spirit powers he had built up over his life. Traditional spirit powers and those that came from monster cores couldn¡¯t coexist in the same body. And, even with several potent spirit powers being offered to him, he still believed that his were better. Monster cores were too risky and unpredictable.


    Frankly, although he had consumed far too much monster flesh and spirit beast meat to even reasonably quantify, the benefits he had received from this black dragon far outweighed all the treasures he had consumed before that point. Seriously, this child was a menace unlike anything Jeevian had ever seen. How was it possible for someone at the very beginning of the foundation realm to have powers that even gods would envy? Truly, his worldview had been even smaller than he thought.


    There was one thing, however, that he would accept from the child. He provided him with the raw material, a cyan metal. It was technically a diamond-ranked metal, given that it was subdivine in quality, but it was far superior to any material that could be found in this realm.


    Neave greedily drooled over the cyan bar of metal.


    Jeevian handed it to him and made his request, ¡°Please, child, I would like you to turn this into a weapon I can use against¡ª¡±


    ¡°Nah,¡± Neave denied as he stored the metal ingot in his dimension ring.


    ¡°Wh¡ª¡­ What?¡± he asked dumbly.


    ¡°I said no,¡± the child repeated himself. ¡°I am stealing this metal for myself,¡± he declared without a single hint of guilt or shame. Then, he turned around and started saying something to someone before interrupting himself and whirling again to face the emperor. ¡°Ah, but don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll make you another weapon that will be quite amazing!¡±


    The emperor stared for a moment, mouth gaping open, and then laughed violently. How long had it been since someone disrespected him so openly?


    ¡°Very well,¡± he resigned himself. ¡°I trust that you will put it to good use. In fact,¡± he said, pulling out several bags of other quality material from his dimension ring. ¡°Here you go,¡± he offered.


    Neave gaped once he took a look inside the bag. His eyes bulged comically large, and he looked up at Jeevian with a beaming bright smile. ¡°Really!? Wow, this is fucking amazing!¡±


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    If it wasn¡¯t for the swearing, the kid¡¯s insane physique and just general insanity, and the fact that he was heavily outmatched by this child, Jeevian would almost appreciate the pure innocence in those eyes that openly stared at him in pure gratitude.


    ***


    Neave told his allies to just do what they do best, then turned around and ran into the caverns. They were smart and would figure it out. For now, they needed to work on growing their spirit powers and getting accustomed to the unique variations they received.


    On the other hand, he had a lot of work to do.


    First, he had been enlightened. Well, it happened a long time ago, during the period he had spent with most of his brain crystallized to prevent sleep from taking him. He could still think, albeit with limited capacity.


    But even that limited capacity had had a thought. An absolutely brilliant one.


    Once he was a bit away from the others, he found a small part of the caverns and got to work. With insane speed, he caved out a part of the wall and created a base for himself. Once inside, he lifted his finger and used Shapeshifting. A small, fleshy tendril grew out of his finger. By burning like force, he created a body. His own body, to be exact.


    During those numerous experiments of trying to find the right monster body¡­ well¡­ he had been an idiot. All he had to do was this. Just grow a body with Shapeshifting. And since burning life force could achieve all sorts of effects, he could make the body however he wanted.


    It was common to overlook something obvious like this. He had done it before. And he was sure there were other things he still hadn¡¯t thought of, although he should have.


    Using Violet Avatar, he possessed the body. Indeed, although it was technically his own body, it didn¡¯t have any of his spirit powers. Because it didn¡¯t have his spirit. It was also much weaker than his own body since using Violet Avatar was only possible if the remnant spirit within the other body was first removed.


    However, it was still a body identical to his own. Meaning that it still had a physique that had been influenced by his spirit powers. And now, although he was doing nothing to control it, his body was getting up to its feet.


    The muscle memory aspect of Thunder Nerves had spread throughout his entire body. This had many implications, the first of which was that his body could move independently of his conscious thought. Thus, even though this clone had no awareness, it could still move and fight just like himself, but without access to spirit powers, life force, and movement techniques. All the information was still in that copied brain. It was utterly useless without a soul, but at the very least, with the muscle memory, the parts about fighting could still be utilized.


    Now, the next step of his plan would depend partially on luck. Closing his eyes, he entered his spirit realm. He appeared on top of the massive metal mountain and pondered his realm. It was time to put his second enlightenment into action.


    First, he went far into the red plains and built numerous metal towers. But these towers were special. A wire traveled through them, and if pulled, that wire would detach the core parts holding them together and make them collapse. Then, he continued building. This time, he manifested an absolutely gigantic metal cube and rested it atop these towers. The structures could barely hold together. Then, he made a tunnel through the cube, reaching its surface above the clouds.


    The metal wire was also pulled up, resting next to the opening.


    He jumped down the tunnel and stood on the ground below. Then, he left the spirit realm and invested lifeforce into evolving Violet Avatar to diamond rank.


    As expected, the diamond-ranked dragon and the other threats he had to face appeared. He had already combined all of his spirit powers and fought the fights like a dumbass, doing all this ¡®effort¡¯ stuff. This time, he chained movement techniques until he made his way through the tunnel and to the top of the cube.


    The monsters stood in the shadow of the massive metal construct, yelling and screaming. The violet dragon flew up but couldn¡¯t make its way through the tight tunnel.


    Before it could get the idea to fly around the cube, Neave lay down, closed his eyes in contentment, and pulled the metal wire.


    The entire realm started rumbling as the metallic towers collapsed, and the gigantic metal cube began falling to the ground below.


    The monsters stood frozen, staring at the heavenly object descending from above, knowing damn well that there wasn''t a single thing they could do to get out of that situation alive.


    Moments later, the metal cube crashed, shaking the entire spirit realm and obliterating the monsters, instantly ending the spirit trial.


    The feeling of freshness he experienced as he cleared the spirit trial with practically no effort was something indescribable. Indeed. He had overcome many of his limitations and shortcomings.


    He used the newly upgraded Violet Avatar and manifested the forty-nine little puppets. They were no more potent than they had been at platinum rank. If this was him from his time in the Nightmare Realm, he would have lost his shit at an upgrade like this. Forty-nine puppets? Who was going to control that!?


    But now, as he stared at his army of minions, he grinned from ear to ear. With the metal he plundered from the emperor, he could create some damn powerful golems. Even a tiny speck of that material could make the power conduits numerous times more potent.


    There was once a book he read that spoke of a demonic sect that replaced their limbs with golem parts. They called themselves golorgs, a blend of golem and organism. His eyes trailed over the metal bar in his hand, the army of puppets, and his clone.


    ¡°Well then,¡± he said, grinning with drool running down his mouth. ¡°Who wants to get some upgrades?¡±

 Chapter 144 - The Next Batch

    What surprised Hosolar the most wasn''t the fact that they had failed but how they had failed. Two of them had undeniably died, but the third one had vanished, and another two seemed to have been erased. That child had truly peculiar means. And he knew it was the child and not some random monster due to the way they had perished; monsters weren¡¯t capable of such trickery.


    As the current highest authority within this realm, he could naturally sense the positions of anyone below him in a certain radius, of course, as long as they were subdivine.


    Such was the nature of supreme divine authority. But the fact that he was currently embodying an avatar limited him in so many ways, and perception was merely one of them. Still, this wasn''t something to be concerned about.


    "They have finally arrived," he thought as he felt his quarry enter his range of perception. As one after another stepped into range, he counted a hundred and ten high paladins that had been delivered to serve him in his mission, the same number that he had personally seen when he had been at the Langen continent.


    It took them a while to arrive, as was to be expected from servants who were only at the first stage of sub-divinity. "I see," he chuckled as he felt them lining up outside. "I suppose that cramming themselves in this tiny throne room would be rather inappropriate," he said as he got up and began walking out of the palace.


    Among the high servants lined up outside the palace, fifty-seven of them were women, and fifty-three of them were men. He gazed at their pearly translucent skin, their silky soft, colorful hair, and the pristine, impeccably-crafted armor adorning their perfect bodies. ¡°I suppose they can pass," he said, naturally unable to compare them to true divinity.


    He walked out of the humbly decorated building into the well-maintained, verdant gardens of the Imperial Palace. As he stepped before the servants, who were lined up in several neat rows, he glanced at Brivia, who stood before all of them. "Well done on timely accomplishing your task," he commended. ¡°As expected, the others have failed in theirs. The pawns died too quickly for me to assess anything about our opponents'' strength. All that I know is that it certainly won''t be easy to take the child down."


    A brief flash of guilt passed through Brivia''s eyes, and he touched her cheek. "There, there," he consoled her. "There is no reason for you to feel guilty about this."


    "But I am the one who brought that hellspawn into this realm!" she yelled.


    He merely smiled at that, and a brief sadness flashed through his eyes. "The sheer number of my own children who have stepped down the wrong path is almost uncountable. At some age, children become their own people, responsible for all they do and all that happens to them. Worry not about this; soon enough, he will be vanquished."


    She smiled, genuine joy sparkling in her eyes.


    "Now then," he said as he turned to the servants, "let us begin."


    Those pathetic little worms he had sent as a test after that demonic entity were nothing compared to the elite guard of the Langen Continent. The only way they could even remotely compare to these servants was by having that lost young master at their side.


    And even that would no longer be relevant soon enough.


    After they finished dealing with this child, this realm would become completely cut off from the omnirealms. It had drifted far away enough already, and the corruption had spread too thoroughly for the gods to get any use out of it.


    The demonkin were still lurking somewhere, guarding the corpse of the devil that had been slain eons ago, but they would never be a problem. If they wanted this little rat corner for themselves, they could have it. It wouldn¡¯t be the first lost realm to have fallen to their schemes. But just like all the others, the only use the Devil faction would get out of this realm was limited to the realm itself.


    The child was the only one that concerned them, anyway. He stepped before the first servant of interest; it was a tall, lightly-tanned man equipped with a great sword on his back. The man''s eyes had nothing but unwavering loyalty within them, as was to be expected of the high paladins that the heavenly realms themselves had nurtured even from so far away.


    Every pair of eyes he met stared back at him with pure admiration and resolve. All of them were going to die today; that was unavoidable, that was their mission, that was what they had been raised to do if need ever arrived.


    So, he nodded in appreciation of their loyalty as he placed his finger on the man''s forehead. A second later, a set of runes appeared. The man''s body pulsed, a golden mist surrounded it, and after it was done, the man was slightly easier on the eyes and considerably more powerful.


    Such a thing didn''t cost Hosolar nearly as much as extracting a true strand would. All he had done was extract the potential out of the man''s spirit in exchange for making that power temporary. It was a ritual quite similar to what was happening to himself then; the man became an avatar to his future self, but the only difference was that that future self would never exist.


    Tears rushed down the man''s eyes at the elation from feeling the power that coursed through him. "Thank you, my Lord," he thanked him. "With this, I can serve you to the best of my ability until I take my last breath."


    "Fear not, my child," Hosolar responded, "the heavens themselves are on your side."


    As such, he proceeded, moving from one servant to another, each acquiring a new set of runes upon their forehead. One after another, they rose from the first to the second stage of the subdivinity realm.


    Unfortunately, none of them qualified to ascend to the third stage.


    Until his finger landed on the fortieth forehead. Immediately, he pulled it back and raised an eyebrow. The servant he was about to bless was a woman; her hair was pure gold, and her eyes gleamed with a purple radiance as she looked up at him.


    He looked down at her, squinting. "Why haven¡¯t you done it yet?" he asked.


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    "I wouldn''t dare, your eminence," she responded in her beautiful voice. "As someone who was raised to serve, it would be a great act of heresy to step upon the gifts I was provided."


    "I see," he said, humming and squinting his eyes. "You were correct to do as you have done, but now, you have my permission," he said as he lowered himself into a squat until his nose nearly touched her own. "Take it," he commanded.


    "As you wish, my lord," she obliged.


    Moments later, a swirl of pearly light surrounded her, and all the other servants gasped in shock. Brivia looked particularly surprised at what she was seeing. After all, the woman was in the middle of achieving something that should be impossible in this realm.


    By the virtue of her own work, by the merit of her own power, the woman was ascending to the second step of sub-divinity, having grasped the true strand of servitude. Hosolar was hesitant as he stared down at her; such talent would be appreciated even in the higher realms. If he took this woman with him, she would undoubtedly become someone at least vaguely important. But his mission took absolute priority.


    His finger descended upon her forehead, and, like it had on so many others, a set of runes appeared on her forehead.


    "Thank you, my lord," she thanked him, crying tears of joy at the opportunity she had been provided. It was no surprise; she was about to complete her duty in a way that no other servant could compete with as she stepped upon the third step of sub-divinity.


    Not even an hour later, all these servants had been anointed and given their task. This was good, excellent even; there was no way the child could handle an onslaught like this. Those barbarians he had sent after them before were one thing; these servants were another.


    In fact, sending a servant of the third stage was even somewhat excessive, but it was at least the level of assurance he needed. The heavens were smiling upon him on that day; with an army so powerful to be sent to accomplish the task he had come here to complete, he had the luxury of saving his power to further assist in sealing this realm for good.


    "You may rise, children," he said as they slowly got up one by one.


    He raised his hand into the air, and runic imprints appeared above. As the servants looked at them, their meaning was imprinted directly into their minds; it was the location of where the scouts he had sent had perished.


    "Go annihilate those who dare bare their fangs at the Heavenly alliance!"


    ***


    The great god was currently in the middle of his private realm. Nobody could see his body, and that was for the best. If the surrounding gods laid their eyes upon him, they might all die of shock one after another. His right eye had a set of purple runes intertwined through it, and his left arm hung limply to the side.


    Both body parts were utterly useless.


    "Heavens damn it!" he swore. ¡°How!? Why!?¡± he asked.


    How was it possible for him to have sacrificed so much yet achieved nothing? Worst of all, he was trying to reach Hosolar to tell him to practice utmost vigilance in exterminating that little piece of shit, but he couldn''t reach him!


    Some form of unholy interference surrounded the entire lost realm, making him incapable of stepping into contact with it. His own arrogance and foolishness were the cause of that; from all the power he had squandered in his fruitless mission, that thing had fed.


    He couldn''t stop himself from chuckling maniacally; the consequences of his blunders still coursed through his very being, and a deep sense of exhaustion enveloped him. For the first time in forever, all he could do was wait helplessly as someone else performed the mission on which he had staked everything.


    ***


    A little purple slime slithered through the caverns just below the empire''s capital. Its golden, slimy crown shone in the darkness, reflecting the violet glow of the avatar, and the black sunglasses made it look super cool.


    Looking at it up close and from the perspective of a monster, Neave reached another level of appreciation for the fantastic creation of the late empress. Any monster who gazed upon this intricately intertwined series of caves would see nothing but a barren void of energy.


    But he, as someone who knew the trick behind it, couldn''t be deceived so quickly, and the King Slime couldn''t be tricked at all. Although it was faint, he still sensed the flow of energy from above, and there he saw something pretty damn exciting.


    He had been spying on Hosolar for a while already, waiting to see what the man would do. No matter how much time passed, the demigod merely sat on the throne and waited for something to happen.


    It was apparent that he wasn''t waiting for the emperor and his gang to succeed in their mission.


    A big part of him was concerned that the demigod was waiting for somebody else to arrive or some sort of other heavenly entity to descend upon the realm to be sent after them. Either that or he was gathering power to come after them himself.


    But no, neither of those two was the correct answer. What that idiot had been waiting for was a gang of utterly useless cannon fodder that he likely planned to send after him and his allies. Neave couldn''t help but grin¡ªwell, he would if he was in his real body, but now, as he was in the body of a slime, he shifted its body into the form of a face and made that grin instead.


    The reason why he was so happy was that he had reached something of a bottleneck. He had enough of the glorious material the emperor had handed him to create the power conduits. But he severely lacked quality material to make proper armor for the golorgs.


    He had to settle for a lot of platinum-ranked material that had been heavily modified to suit his needs. In the fight against the demigod, that simply wouldn''t be enough. Lo and behold, ya boy Hosolar came in with the clutch assist. After all, that army of minions had some real shiny armor covering their tender little bodies.


    Suddenly, he sensed something that he didn''t expect to encounter.


    ¡®Uh-oh,¡¯ he thought to himself. ¡®Did one of those just go up to the third step of the diamond path?¡¯


    Maybe that man wasn''t just a bumbling, ignorant idiot like his father.


    Frankly, this made things a little bit complicated. The emperor had surrendered because he had seen that he would have lost the fight if he had fought them, but that wasn''t to say that the man wouldn''t have done a pretty damn good job if he had actually decided to put his life on the line. Naturally, he would have eventually gone down, and so would even a thousand people of his rank, especially now that Neave had his summons.


    Based on the energy he could see coming from the one who had ascended to the third step of the diamond path, fighting this batch of hunters wouldn''t be as straightforward¡ªso much for easily gathering materials.


    He could also sense a peculiar energy coming off from the armor and weapons they were equipped with. What was that? Some sort of blessing? Some sort of holy affinity thing?


    Either way, the others were still looking for the most potent treasures they could discover. Not only that, but he didn''t want to call upon them because he was afraid that these servants were being merely used as a scouting party or information-gathering unit. He risked revealing too much about his party to the demigod if he couldn''t handle them himself.


    He didn''t care much about the man learning things about him since he wasn''t the main player of this story; his allies would do most of the work, and thus, keeping their power and weapons a secret was the least he could do.


    Suddenly, the over one hundred humans began moving, and he unsummoned the slime. His mind whirred as he rushed to think of a solution.


    What could he do to get rid of them without involving the others?

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 Chapter 145 - A True Immortal Arts Practitioner

    The hundred and ten holy servants stepped their way into the depths. As they made their way past one desolate cavern after another, they gradually gathered speed.


    A golden-haired woman with purple eyes led the charge, marching in the front as she kept her eyes peeled for any enemy activity. Her name had been Pitria. But now, that name meant nothing to her. All she was was servitude itself, no more important than a single sword-swing by the Great God¡¯s Holy Proginy.


    She couldn¡¯t stop her heart from leaping in joy at the fact that her death would be so glorious. Oh, the jealousy she saw in that wretched Brivia¡¯s eyes was something that she would savor until her very end. What potential the impeccable demigod saw in that woman was not for her question. But she couldn¡¯t stop herself from committing that one tiny act of blasphemy in the depths of her soul.


    Even if the demigod had forgiven her, even if the heavens themselves had excused her sins, it didn¡¯t change the fact that she had born a child that turned its nasty fangs against the Heavenly Alliance.


    Alas, those thoughts would be purged with her death. Her beauty as the most valiant servant would excuse her minor transgression.


    Although with their number advantage, it would be wisest to split up, they knew that that would make them extremely vulnerable. The child had already proven itself capable of taking down someone at the second stage of subdivinity¡ªsplitting up would be a recipe for getting picked apart one by one.


    Thus, they marched together, prepared to lay their lives down at any moment if it meant making any progress toward catching the child. Their path took them deeper and deeper. For many hours, they found nothing but greater depths and scattered monsters.


    Until they stepped into a vast, open cavern of pure darkness. It was too dark. Unnaturally so. There was a trick involved, and the air itself was filled with an alchemical substance that could almost entirely block even their superior vision.


    A sound echoed through the empty space. It was akin to metallic grating, with an electric, deep hum undertoning it.


    ¡°Wait!¡± she commanded. ¡°There is something in here.¡± She could sense it.


    Suddenly, right in the middle of the empty cavern, two purple dots lit up in the darkness. In an instant, the air grew transparent, and they could see their opponent.


    But it wasn¡¯t who they expected to see.


    A two-meter tall figure clad in full, black armor stood in the middle of the room. A purple glow accented the joints.


    Something about that figure was deeply unnatural. She couldn¡¯t sense any cultivation coming from it, but the inside of the armor was brimming with intense energy.


    The black figure suddenly spoke, ¡°WELCOME,¡± it said in a monotone, metallic voice that sounded like it was almost being filtered through something. ¡°TARGETS DETECTED: ONE HUNDRED AND TEN. INTIATING PROTOCOL ONE: FIRST STRIKE.¡±


    The being lifted its left arm, and its palm opened to show a circular opening blaring with purple energy. In a mere moment, the energy density spiked way beyond anything reasonable as it compressed and sent a pure beam of thin, purple energy flying toward their group.


    ¡°Evade!¡± she screamed, but it was too late.


    A woman¡¯s torso was speared straight through, the armor melting away like ice in the path of the intense beam of energy. She coughed a small plume of smoke and spat a bucket of blood as she dropped dead to the ground.


    ¡°OH SHIT,¡± the armored form spoke again, this time in a slightly more human-sounding cadence. ¡°I DID NOT EXPECT THAT TO ACTUALLY KILL SOMEONE.¡±


    Pitria screamed in primal fury as she charged at the figure at a speed it clearly wasn¡¯t prepared to face. Her greatsword rose to strike the armored form down. But the armored individual was already raising its right arm. From right above the wrist, a black blade rushed out, catching her by surprise.


    She moved from an attack to a block. That turned out to be a mistake. The black blade vibrated so intensely that it felt like it was shaking the space itself apart. Upon making contact with her greatsword, even though it felt like it was of inferior material, it still left deep cracks running along the length of her weapon.


    Her enemy tried to use her moment of bewilderment to kick her in the stomach, but that failed as she used her superior speed to get out of the way. She was ashamed to admit that without her overwhelming speed advantage, she would stand no chance against this opponent.


    The moment she used to dodge, however, wasn¡¯t wasted by her opponent as it conjured another beam of purple energy that speared another one of her comrades, killing them instantly.


    She screamed as she kicked the armored form right in the torso. The material that armor was made of didn¡¯t even budge under the force of her strike, but she was able to send her opponent flying back.


    The rest of her allies weren¡¯t pushovers. They wouldn¡¯t take it lying down. Numerous flying strikes of pure white, be they in the form of crescent moons or straight beams or physical arrows, rushed at the armored form while it was still in the air.


    Their opponent either deflected the attacks or dodged them with insulting ease, treating the residual energy that brushed against its armor as less significant than the air itself.


    Before the black figure could land, a man wielding a heavy axe rushed in to slice him apart at the waist, and it truly appeared like he would succeed, until the absolute last moment, when their enemy flicked its arm and severed both the axe in half and the man right down the middle.


    By that point, they all understood¡ªthis wasn¡¯t a fight they would through straightforward means. Pitria rushed in, once more displaying her overwhelming power as she dashed forward, reaching the armored figure in a blink.


    Utterly disregarding the backlash, she half-formed a technique that usually required more setup to dish out as much damage as she could with a single swing. Her sword met black metal, leaving a deep gash down the armored form¡¯s torso. She would have expected the feeling of a sword cutting through guts and muscle.


    But her eyes widened as she only discovered more metal.


    Her move bought enough time for ten of her allies to create a formation. They surrounded the figure and put their hands together, chanting under their breath.


    The air around the black form thickened, and the being found itself frozen in the middle of the air. Ethereal, white chains conjured out of nothing as the sacrificial seal was formed around the form¡¯s limbs, completely inhibiting their movement.


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    ¡°INITIATING ENERGY DISCHARGE,¡± it said once more, returning to its monotone cadence.


    Numerous holes all across its body opened as purple energy began rushing out in absurd quantities. It was undirected and chaotic, merely swirling and spreading as it slowly converted into pure heat and electricity.


    The chains snapped one after another as they were corroded away, and her ten allies dropped dead, their bodies turned into nothing but pale husks as a consequence of their meaningless sacrifice.


    Fury filled her as she gritted her teeth. They would all die anyway. But she couldn¡¯t tolerate seeing servants sacrificing themselves for nothing! The creature had done something drastic, and it had clearly left it drained of energy. She used this opening to charge in and successfully stab her sword right into the enemy¡¯s torso.


    Before she could confirm it¡ªshe felt it. Where the heart, or at least a core, should be, there was absolutely nothing but metal.


    ¡°INITIATING SELF-DESTRUCTION PROTOCOL.¡±


    She tried backing away, but before she could even release her sword, black chains enveloped all over her, tying her down to the black figure as the metal rapidly heated up. With a blinding flash of purple light, the entire cavern was filled with violent energy. The burst wounded many and even outright killed three servants with the impact.


    Her armor was severely damaged, and the surface of her skin blistered with the explosion. But the creature¡ªno, this wasn¡¯t just any random enemy. This must have been that demonic child. She had heard it speak in surprise at the beginning. It had attained immense power through unholy means, modifying its own body by combining itself with a golem.


    How repulsive! And to think it harbored such hatred that it would kill itself just to see her die. Well, truthfully, she was doing pretty much the same thing, but she was doing it for a noble cause.


    But she wasn¡¯t dead yet. She would die soon, but she still had maybe a few weeks of life. How could she make herself useful? What else could she do to serve the great¡ª?


    Her thoughts were interrupted as she heard the metallic sound again. This time, it was coming from three directions. She turned to spot three more figures appearing from different directions as their purple eyes lit up.


    ¡°Dear heavens¡­¡± she whispered. ¡°What are we up against!?¡±


    ¡°TARGETS DETECTED,¡± they spoke at once. ¡°NINETY-FOUR REMAINING. INITIATING PROTOCOL TWO: STAGE ONE: DODGE.¡±


    She barely got out of the way as two of the figures rushed straight at her, accelerating by pushing purple energy in dense jets out of their feet to fly forward. Two buzzing blades danced around her, and she found herself nearly powerless to dodge.


    She was fast enough to do it, but it was as if these creatures could tell exactly where she was going to go. Her immensely tough flesh couldn¡¯t be severed so easily, but the insanely powerful vibration was still enough to enable the edge to cut right into her skin and even crack her armor.


    Her focus waned as she heard the screams of the other servants. One by one, they fell as the third armored form slaughtered them. She couldn¡¯t let this continue. In the depths of her body, her life force ignited, burning with the force of a miniature star.


    With the added speed, her arm moved too fast for the creature to react as she reached out and tore its entire arm out and smashed the other one right into its head.


    ¡°INITATING SELF-DESTRUCT¡ª¡± the one with its arm torn out tried, but her predatory gaze fell on it instantly.


    A heavenly blade appeared before her as she swung her arm down. A mighty unicorn, a creature of true purity and holy power, appeared as its horn rammed straight through the armored form, turning its entire body into scrap metal before it could explode. Her arm suddenly went limp as all life abandoned it.


    Unfortunately, she wasn¡¯t fast enough to stop the other one as she heard the metallic voice and felt the heat rise behind her back. But she wasn¡¯t tied down this time. She rushed forward, and the force of the explosion just barely caught up to her. But it was enough. The impact sent her flying into the cavern wall.


    She dragged herself out only to spot that this explosion had once more taken several lives.


    But the other one wasn¡¯t done tearing her comrades apart. With an intense scream, as she pushed her mangled body forward, she swung her other arm again. From hundreds of meters away, the holy visage of the unicorn flew at its target in a straight line.


    It would be trivial to dodge it. Would, if ten of her comrades didn¡¯t sacrifice their lives to seal the armored form in place again for a mere moment.


    The horn tore the armored form apart, and the room went silent. Only fifty people were still alive.


    Terror, unlike anything she had ever felt in her life, filled her body to the brim as she heard that same noise again.


    One¡­ two¡­ three¡­ ten more armored forms appeared around them as they stepped into the cavern.


    Even though they had already sacrificed their lives, they couldn¡¯t help but lose all hope as their morale plummeted. One head after another rolled under the tyrannical charge of the black forms. In mere seconds, they killed five people each and left the room empty of life.


    All except her, who still stood, her body mangled and both her arms hanging uselessly to the side.


    Her eyes were wide open as she witnessed the carnage. Suddenly, a glowing form of a slime rushed into the room and collected all the bodies before disappearing. As it vanished, the ten armored figures turned to face her, sending an intense shiver down her spine.


    But then, out of nowhere, a man appeared. The tall form of Hosolar manifested from nothing and stood right before her with Brivia by his side.


    ¡°You have done a good job,¡± was all he said to her.


    That was enough for her. With that, she could die happy as the last of her life force burned away and her body dropped dead to the ground.


    ***


    ¡®Uh-oh, the big boss himself showed up,¡¯ Neave thought.


    ¡°YO, WHAT¡¯S UP, HOSOLAR!?¡± he greeted the man through one of the golorgs as if he were greeting an old friend. ¡°I HEARD YOUR DAD¡¯S PRETTY ANGRY WITH ME.¡±


    ¡°Silence, demonic entity,¡± his mother, whom he had been ignoring until then, said. ¡°Do not speak to the demigod so casually.¡±


    ¡°Awww¡­ I thought you¡¯d let me play a bit, Mom,¡± he teased in his regular voice as he turned off the voice converter. ¡°You better spoil me rotten if you want forgiveness for abandoning me.¡±


    She showed no reaction to that. Pity.


    Hosolar sighed. ¡°I see you are unmoved by the appearance of your mother. Truly, you are beyond saving.¡±


    Neave shrugged as he faced his mother again. ¡°Mother¡­ If you want, I can still forgive you. Marven still misses you.¡± He stretched his arm out.


    Her face morphed into the picture of anger at those words. ¡°How dare you mention that bastard¡¯s name to me!?¡± she shouted. ¡°All he ever did was ignore my warnings and advice as he allowed the sect to rot at the hands of those demons!¡± she yelled as he took an aggressive step forward. ¡°I was forced to fake my death since I had no other escape from that hellish place! Every damn day they bullied and tormented me with their petty power games and politics.


    ¡°You should know what I¡¯m talking about¡­¡± she said as her expression softened slightly. ¡°Didn¡¯t you destroy the sect for the same reason!? What right do you have to judge me for running away!?¡± Her screams turned into tears as something within her cracked. ¡°And look what they did to you¡­¡± she said, unable to keep looking at the armored form Neave was speaking through.


    ¡°¡­ Coward,¡± he shot back. ¡°You fucking coward!¡± he screamed. ¡°You can play the victim card all you want, but that doesn¡¯t change the fact that you left me behind while you ran off to play with these tyrants!¡±


    ¡°Oh, please!¡± she spat. ¡°You fit in just fine. You were turning out to be every bit the child your father wanted you to be. I couldn¡¯t bear to stay behind and watch you rot as they corrupted you and took you away from me!¡±


    That made Neave pause. Indeed, while his mother was still there, he had been on the trajectory to become the prodigy of the next generation. He learned fast and absorbed that lifestyle like a sponge did water. His life only changed once he thought she was dead. It was only then that he started feeling disgust at the violence she had lived by.


    It was only then that he began fearing the instrument of her downfall.


    A sense of sickness bubbled in the depths of his soul. Until that point, he had believed that he could maintain his indifference upon meeting her. He believed he had the absolute moral high ground. So why did¡­? Why did her story hold so much weight?


    He felt deeply ill at her words. Maybe she wasn¡¯t entirely wrong. But if so, what should he¡ª?


    ??????????????????????????????


    ¡®Take a seat back and watch, failure.¡¯ words echoed in his mind as everything went dark. ''This is how a true immortal arts practitioner deals with a destroyer.¡¯

 I havent burned out, I swear...

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 [UPDATE] Im cured (jk, but I am better)

Update


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 a very important update

Onto the description, boys and gals.


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 Chapter 146 - Horror Too Vast

    Hosolar stood, facing the unholy creature before him. Although muddled, his senses were still powerful enough to inform him that the thing before him was nothing but an avatar. Yet, strain as he may, he couldn¡¯t detect the string connecting the golem construct to the Lost Child.


    The child was communicating with Brivia, but he merely stood there, impassive, focusing his senses on trying to locate Neave. There was no use in fighting this remotely controlled avatar. He needed to hunt down the true body.


    There was no threat from this construct. Its presence was formidable, perhaps holding the power of a cultivator on the upper end of the second step of the diamond path. Incredible power for something that could be controlled remotely.


    Suddenly, he sensed something off. By the time he was back to paying attention to his immediate surroundings, he severely regretted his folly. ¡°What the¡ª¡± he screamed as pure darkness peeled the reality around him.


    In the blink of an eye, the chunk of space he had been in, perhaps the surrounding 2 meters, was torn out of reality and thrown into the void.


    Now that he was in the void, his connection to his true body grew far more potent, but that didn¡¯t make his situation any better. Still, his divine might flooded into him, allowing him to refresh some of his lost reserves and fueling his desperate scramble to return the space back where it belonged.


    He needed to hurry before he drifted too far away from¡ª


    ????????????????????


    A putrid, horrifying scream echoed from all around him, and he looked up. Too big, too grand for a mere mortal mind to wrap itself around it, a figure appeared. Its eyes were forged of an uncountable infinity, its form flowing through time and space, scraping the essence of being around itself like a cosmic parasite.


    It sneered at him with an unfathomable expression, an act so foreign he could barely recognize it as anything more than a collection of loud smells, gooey, sticky sounds, colors from beyond the visible spectrum, and terror itself, so thick it flowed like sap.


    The image of a child¡¯s face appeared before him as if anchored to the center of his vision. ¡°Better get ready!¡± it taunted him, and in the next moment, the chunk of reality reattached itself back to where he¡¯d been.


    His body was surrounded by dozens of those strange puppets, every single one of them glowing with a powerful purple light.


    He raised his guard and then felt his stomach sink. Where was Brivia?


    He had a mere moment to turn his attention to where he felt her waning presence. Turning just in time to watch one of the puppets tear her head off.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Boom.


    ***


    Neave found himself lying unconscious on the ground. ¡°Shit!¡± he screamed. ¡°I dropped my fucking guard!¡± He rushed back up to his feet.


    The connection that the manipulator had to his mind, the faint yet everpresent string he fought to fight back¡­ it felt like it was entirely gone.


    But for some reason, he couldn¡¯t find it in his heart to celebrate this fact, especially when he didn¡¯t even know exactly what the manipulator had done.


    Pushing his Violet Avatar spirit power, he rushed to reconnect with his puppets¡ª


    But they were all gone.


    Suddenly, he felt a powerful tremor shake the entire cave around him. He immediately knew what it was. All of the puppets had exploded. ¡°No, wait.¡± Not all of them. He focused. There was one more; he could feel it hidden within the space where his spirit power kept the avatars.


    But it had¡­ something in its hand. It was holding a roughly round object.


    He retrieved the puppet, summoning it before him with a flash of purple light.


    His pupils shrank.


    Gripped by her silver hair, his mother¡¯s head hung from the puppet¡¯s clutch, fresh blood still dripping from her torn neck.


    Drip¡­


    Drip¡­


    Drip¡­


    ¡­


    The sight burned itself into his image, settling there. He blinked.


    ¡°Whelp, she¡¯s gone.¡± He sighed as he put his hands on his hips. ¡°Shit¡­¡± he cursed as he grabbed the head and blew a fire breath at it until it became nothing but fine ash.


    He had to keep her death a secret from Marven. That old man was already unstable enough. If he found out about this, it would crush him.


    There was no time for him to think about it. Even with the detonation of every remaining puppet, he knew damn well that it wouldn¡¯t be enough to seriously injure Hosolar. Neave, naturally, had no idea what actually happened, so he couldn¡¯t even say that the man had been hit at all.


    But the reality was that Hosolar was personally chasing after him now. The time for preparations was over. He had to track the others down, hurry and finish the weapons and all the alchemy, and then forge a plan for dealing with the enemy.


    He looked around, trying to think of everything he had to collect.


    A sudden tremor appeared in his hand. He gripped his arm with the other hand. With all the force he could muster, he pushed the sickness in his stomach down. With the eternity of experience clearing his mind, he wiped away the image of his mother¡¯s bleeding, decapitated head.


    There was no time to think about it. Neither her life nor her death were of consequence to him. Or so he tried to tell himself. He wanted to believe that he didn¡¯t care. Yet, there was a corner in his heart. An empty, vacant space where a small child wept, sobbing as it clutched its heart in agony. He willed that space to shrink until the child was crushed.


    Then, he took a deep breath, collected everything he needed, and ran. Rushing to find the others.


    Rushing to finish the final preparations.


    Rushing to take his revenge.

 Figured its about time for an update

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