《Prospect For Reincarnation: From Common Fodder To Calamity》 Chapter 1: Meaningless Existence (A/N: This is the only chapter written in First Person). "Please, I beg of you! Please spare my family! I''ll do anything! I''ll give you anything!" the man whom I presume is a husband to the quivering woman behind him, and a father to the ghastly pale boy of probably no more than ten years clutching his arm, screams. I sigh. There is nothing this man can offer me that can change his fate, after all, I am after his and his family''s lives. His pleas only make me grip my saber tighter. Let me get this over with. The longer they stare at me like this ¨C with terror and dwindling hope ¨C the more upset I become. But I do not show it with my face. I raise my saber and take a step forward, an action that the man before me responds to by burning away the pathetic, torn visage he has had on all this time, and donning a feral one; a desperate one. He lunges at me while telling his wife and son to escape, but his attempt, while admirable for a common man, does not amount to much. I seize him by the neck of his tunic, knock him against the wall, and jam my saber violently into his chest. The odd look he gives me now ¨C one of confusion and shock ¨C without a single word leaving his mouth, melts against the heartless demons that I carry. I have seen endless templates of this same face for twenty years. I am numb to it. Behind me, the man''s wife lets out a blood-curdling screech at the sight of what I have done and heaves a wooden chair which she bashes into my back. She hits me repeatedly in the name of her husband, while her son backs away in horror, his eyes planted on his father''s quivering figure. I wish I can find enough sympathy to care, and reason enough to not deliver the same cruel fate on these two. I don''t. The woman''s head rolls a moment later, while her husband''s body, no longer pinned to the wall by my saber, slumps to the floor. The boy who remains is frozen stiff. I imagine he can''t quite process the image of his mother''s head standing upright by the stump of its neck on the floor, staring him dead in the eye. For a moment, I think he will go mad, but he doesn''t. He sits motionlessly, spiritlessly, as I behead him too. I sigh. Am I to say "Job well done" now? I set to leave the small house when a croaking voice calls out to me. "C-curse y... you." I turn my head. The man. He still has breath enough to speak, though I can see that he is quickly fading. "Curse you! Spawn... of the devil!" His words mean nothing to me. I''ve heard countless variations of them. Before he passes, I give him the same response I have given to all those who came before him. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. "Blame my King. I''m just a messenger." As I make my exit, a fellow soldier, decked in the same unimpressive silver set of armor as me, gives me a nod, cackles with glee, and throws a flaming torch to the thatched roof of the house, setting it ablaze. I watch for a moment, as greedy gold and crimson devours the house, before following the dozens from my platoon all around the village, killing and burning in a cycle that almost feels unending... Inescapable, even. * We''ve returned to camp. There wasn''t much to do today. No skilled warriors from our foes'' side could have predicted that foot soldiers like me would be sent to eradicate villages in their nation while they were forced to weather the tide of renowned warriors from our side. To be honest, neither side cares for the ''general kind.'' His Majesty often rebukes taking prisoners. That is an outlook you must adopt to thrive in his army. I can''t say I have been proud to soak it up as well. It''s become a part of me, yet I''m different from my comrades, at least those who rank higher than me. They are all bloodthirsty fiends that turn fierce in the presence of skilled enemies and frail innocents. It is as though evil spirits have taken the place of their souls. I don''t believe in the supernatural though. That evil is all just human. The stark difference between how most of them arrive as naive recruits and how they devolve into madmen is nothing short of a miracle. I should know. I have served for twenty years in His Majesty''s army without promotion. It''s all I have. My life was nothing before this. I grew up well, with loving parents. I had friends, and ambitions, though nowadays I find it hard to recall anything about either. What I do know is that I lost everything that defined me, one day, however simple it was, and only managed to keep my living breath. I imagine that the same brand of cruelty I just served hours ago was how it happened ¨C I can''t quite remember. Is this my subconscious of making up for my loss? Am I giving life a rude hand gesture by exacting the same fate on others? Perhaps. Perhaps not. No one really cares and I feel nothing. The reality is that everything dies in the end. I am the King''s servant, sworn to his service. I''ve already made peace with the possibility of dying in battle. Dying a worthless death. ... The camp is as messy, as rancid, and as disorderly as you can imagine. At least that is how it looks for a lowly foot soldier like me. I have no aptitude for growth, so I remain as a fifty-five-year-old veteran among younglings ¨C with no name of his own, only several mocking monikers. Still, I am quite knowledgeable. While thousands of the same rank have died, I have managed to master simple tactics and basic combat techniques that flirt best with Lady Luck. All in all, it isn''t that bad. .... It''s night. The usual brawls can be spotted here and there. I''ve eaten my bowl of the nasty brown goop that qualifies as a foot soldier''s staple food. I''m ready for bed. Ready for another day in the cruel cycle. I remember falling asleep, but something wakes me up. There''s a noise, for one. Then something heavy drops on top of me, and something sharp lodges into my throat. One of my fellow soldiers is lying on top of me, and his knife has found its way into my neck. I start to choke. The pain is as excruciating as I imagined it to be when I inflicted it on others. I instinctively try to drag the knife out while pushing the soldier away. It''s no good. The man is limp. He''s dead. Another soldier standing a few paces away, scoffs, spits and walks away. I want to struggle. I want to resist. But what''s the point? I''m done for. Besides, do I really want to wake up tomorrow and continue to carry out the ambitions of a wealthy, vicious man who doesn''t give a damn about all that I do in his service? No. I don''t. Ah, it hurts. It hurts so bad! Blood spews from my mouth. It tastes worse than I remember. Well, I suppose it''s a fitting end. No glory. No honor. I die as a consequence of a stupid brawl between two other meaningless pieces of shit. I actually manage to let out a ridiculing laugh in my sorry state. What a worthless existence. . . . . Something''s setting off a bright light. Is it the sun? No. I died. I died, right? Definitely. I try to open my eyes. I can''t. I don''t think I have eyes, or a body for that matter. There''s only darkness and that flashing light over yonder. What is this? Then an answer comes. This same flashing light broadens and an oddly inhumane voice cries joyously: |Welcome to the carriage towards ''Prospect For Reincarnation''!| |You will formally be referred to as ''Incarnate ^8001'' from now on!| |Please try to keep your wits, if you have any, and choose wisely as you pass along!| |Happy trails!| Chapter 2: Prospect For Reincarnation Incarnate ^8001. He didn''t know what that meant, but he was more concerned about the bizarre phenomenon happening around him. What was that voice? What was that light? He wanted to speak, but it seemed his form of existence at present was too abstract. Not abstract enough for him to exist without emotion, though. He began to panic as a normal person placed in this situation would. Thankfully, it didn''t seem like he was trapped here. The dark surroundings suddenly whirled, and by some identifiable metric, he managed to understand that he was moving. He was falling at a controlled speed. A moment later, everything changed. An odd space covered his entire view. It seemed like a small room. All of its dimensions ¨C which assumed a perfect cubical shape together ¨C spotted an even twilight fog hue. Bizarre. Really bizarre. There was only silence in this place for a while; it was an uncomfortable sort of silence that threatened to persist for eternity. However, it was suddenly shattered when the oddly inhumane voice came again, speaking in a joyous tone. |You have successfully passed into the ''Isolated Foyer of New Beginnings'', an establishment within the ''Prospect For Reincarnation''!| |''Incarnate ^8001'', please listen carefully. Your fears and questions are about to be addressed| |You have died and have been judged to be eligible for a process that is supported by this Universal Facility: ''Reincarnation''| |You currently exist as a pre-Incarnate while we inform and evaluate you. When all proceedings are completed, you will be given a body for the following processes, becoming a full Incarnate| |For the process of Incarnation to proceed, a stringent set of deliberations has been to be conducted, and it hinges on what choices you will make| There was a pause. The one being addressed was stunned. This was a lot to digest. Reincarnation? Incarnation? The words were - quite surprisingly - expressed with a kind of unnatural ring within his mind that allowed him to understand them as soon as the odd voice made mention of them. (His prior knowledge and context didn''t suffice, after all.) At once, he understood all that the voice was talking about. He also got an adequate appreciation of the nuance as well, though this did not aid his ability to believe how this was even possible. This was the afterlife? It was certainly not what he expected. Well, he had never believed in the supernatural to begin with. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Most of his casual thoughts on the subject always captured something... fiery. But this? Was the old soldier actually promised a chance to gain a new life? Well, this would only come after he incarnated into a new body, and faced some tests - as the voice said - but still. Was this all true? |There is no partiality in ''Prospect For Reincarnation''. The contents of your past life are only taken into account for the choices that will be presented to you in the initial stages before Incarnation| |After these choices are presented, and you have chosen your desired path among them, you will pass through TEN FLOORS from one of the infinite variety of Trial Towers that fits your desired path| |Depending on what you choose, the challenges within the Trial Tower and by extension, the Floors, may be predictable and easy, or vexing and impossible| |But fret not. You will be rewarded accordingly. Your performance against the odds will count| There was another pause. The strange voice addressing the new Incarnate seemed to value having those it addressed understand their circumstances and digest the information it gave. The new Incarnate, stripped of everything from his old life except for vivid memories of it, merely gulped. Rather, he tried to. What were these choices the voice referenced? Right then, the voice spoke again. |First compilation and consideration process ends...| |What do you aspire to be in your next new life? Please choose from the limited options available:| A glowing tablet, rather delightful to look at, emerged before the Incarnate''s vision, carrying writing he had never seen. His vision blurred viciously in the next moment, and he was instantly able to understand the text. Goodness! Struck with immense surprise, he found himself reading the contents of the tablet as though they were written in a language from his previous world. === Dread Knight ¨C a lone, skilled marauder in a magical world -- Handsome Blonde Prince ¨C an adored, rich, and envied figure in a natural world -- Elder Lich ¨C an unparalleled master of harrowing death in a warring world -- Hateful Demon Tyrant ¨C a powerful, loathed ruler in an ancient world -- Heroic Ordained Demigod ¨C a half-divine in an endless celestial plane -- Master Farmer ¨C an enchanter of all crops in a mana-rich world -- Prodigious Young Master ¨C a talented martial artist in a cultivation world === The options were laid out, seven in all. He... Incarnate ^8001, looked over them, puzzled at first, but quickly getting enlightened by an unseen force over the concepts he wasn''t familiar with. He marveled. When understanding set in, he became eager, yet also conflicted. ''I can become... any one of these?'' he thought, a subtle feeling of exhilaration washing away his earlier fears. Presented before him was the title of what he would be destined to become after ''Reincarnation'', and the type of world he would be born into. The new Incarnate had never even thought of there being different worlds. Was all this real? He would have thought he was dreaming, but his mind didn''t have the capacity to conjure such an elaborate facility or sequence of events, so he had no choice but to believe it! He considered the options closely, afraid that they might disappear. A Dread Knight? Hmm. The idea of working alone was appealing at first, but he soon cast it away. The Incarnate thought ''lone marauder'' was a phrase that condemned him to a lonely life. After twenty years of working with others, he couldn''t see a vision of himself living and thriving alone, no matter how skilled. What would his purpose as a wandering knight even be anyway? Wouldn''t he be just as lost as he was in his previous life? Elder Lich? Master of death? Even though the recurring, odd sense of understanding helped him see that the power to use dead men as his warriors was rather powerful, he did not quite like it. He had spent his previous killing and losing comrades. The least he had learned from this was to let the dead rest in peace, however foul they might have been while alive. Handsome Blonde Prince. The idea didn''t particularly speak to the Incarnate. Sure, he would have a better life, but being who he was, he had seen a great number of envied, wealthy people die, even with powerful guards. Would he be able to protect himself? Without that guarantee, he rejected this option as well. Hateful Demon Tyrant. This... the new Incarnate considered. A ruler? He would be like the King whom he left behind, sending his sworn swords to die for his ideals if he desired. Better yet, he would be powerful, and be able to fend for himself, which appealed to him a lot, despite the fact that he would be loathed. But... is this what he really wanted? Skimming over this, for now, the Incarnate looked over Heroic Ordained Demigod. This was another enticing option, but it was weighed down when he was made to understand what a celestial plane was. It was related to the divine. Even in his world ¨C normal as it was ¨C there was belief in the divine. What would being born as a half-divine in a place likely to be filled with genuine divines accomplish? It didn''t sound reassuring. Master Farmer was instantly rejected by Incarnate ^8001. He didn''t think he could weather trials about farming, something he had never done in his previous life. Then the last option came into focus. Much like Hateful Demon Tyrant, he considered it worth thinking about. Being born as a genius appealed to him. Different from what he was in his previous life, he could be something more than the average soldier who clung to and perfected basic skills. He could culture the power to defend himself even if news of his talent spread among enemies! If he could speak, Incarnate ^8001 would have let out a yell of both frustration and excitement. His choice didn''t take long, however. The better between the two most enticing options ¨C for him, at least ¨C was quite obvious. He didn''t even need a voice to select his favoured. As soon as he made up his mind, the oddly inhumane voice returned. |A splendid choice!| |Thank you for your cooperation!| |You will be granted your new body and transported into ''Bahathraden, the Compound Demesne of Fallen Authorities'' shortly| ... |Now leaving the ''Isolated Foyer of New Beginnings''!| Before the Incarnate could express marvel or surprise, the cubical room of twilight hue vanished as darkness swallowed him again. Chapter 3: First Floor The ambiance of an expanse registered; it was rather cool. Incarnate ^8001 awakened to the taste of dirt, and the ruthless pelting from grains of sand to his face. He blinked a couple of times and then stood up from where he had been lying down. He felt very stiff, and oddly restrained, quite like unwashed armour, full of dirt at the joints. He stretched subconsciously, but his condition barely improved. "Why do I feel so...?" he had began, when it finally smote him. "I have a body! I can speak!" The new Incarnate looked at his body and fondled every part of himself that didn''t resist. He indeed had a body, but it was unlike the one he had in his previous life. He found himself to now spot soft, reddish skin that was unusually sensitive, and thin limbs that thankfully looked and felt like those of a human, though marred by dark fingernails and an excess of tendons around the forearms and thighs. He felt quite tall, at least compared to his old self, but couldn''t confirm it just yet. In fact, he couldn''t confirm anything else related to his appearance without a reflective surface. Blinking a couple of times, he had begun to look around when the same glowing tablet from before appeared in his sight. [Welcome, you have successfully reached ''Bahathraden, Compound Demesne of Fallen Authorities''!] [You have arrived on the FIRST FLOOR, the Ruins of the Deserted King, Alabas] "Ruins..." Incarnate ^8001 mouthed. The Ruins of the Deserted King. It was an ominous name. Already, he could feel the reality of what he had learned previously: a trial of ten Floors. He had arrived at the first. As the odd voice had said, it seemed his choice for a path to follow in his new life matched with this place. A territory full of Authorities. Kings. Emperors. Lords. The new Incarnate had chosen the path of the Demon Tyrant in the end, casting aside the Prodigious Young Master path. There was the risk of being killed due to adverse attention, as he had reasoned with the Handsome Blonde Prince''s path, but Incarnate ^8001 felt much promise in the path of the Tyrant. The tag ''powerful'' attached to the path he chose was more attractive to him than the ''prodigious'' one. He had actually subscribed to the opposite idea at first, but changed his thoughts after understanding the types of worlds the Tyrant and the Young Master would be a part of. The latter set him towards a ''cultivation'' world, which, as the Incarnate grew to understand, (as with everything else) had no shortage of geniuses and prodigies. An ancient world, on the other hand, would probably have no shortage of powerful people as well, but the Incarnate wasn''t just going to be some random powerhouse. He was going to be a ruler in this ancient world. Of course, Incarnate ^8001 did not want to be like his old King, but he quite liked the idea of seeing how he would do in a position of power even while loathed. If he had the power to defend himself, he had the luxury to explore everything he desired, right? Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. He wouldn''t necessarily have to rely on his subjects either, and this ancient world he would be plunged into attracted him so much more. What would it hold? As he dazedly thought of all this, the glowing tablet before him displayed a string of information that pertained to him. === Name : None (Incarnate ^8001) Privilege : 1 Race : Hollow Demonling --- Far Ji (Unique Quality) : None --- STR : 1 AGI : 1 END : 1 --- -???- : 0 --- Kanva (Acquired Skill) : None --- SeiJo (Equipment) : None === Incarnate ^8001 didn''t have to dissect all the information by himself. The moment he set his eyes on one aspect presented, he understood what it meant at once. "So, I don''t have a name. Not that different from before," he said, a subtle, sullen look on his face. "Hollow Demonling? So, I begin as an actual Demon? Well, the word means something different here, I imagine." His physical attributes were given numerical form in order to easily keep track of them. STR for physical strength, AGI for speed, and END for resilience and stamina. The last attribute seemed to be inaccessible at the moment, which the new Incarnate found suspicious. He wasn''t given nearly as much information as he would have wanted. Maybe he would be provided with it gradually the more he rose up the floors. Perhaps that''s what ¡®Privilege¡¯ on the tablet entailed. This concern of his was given more credence when he analysed Far Ji, Unique Quality. It confused the Incarnate a bit. The little he was allowed to glean expressed that a Far Ji was a kind of extraordinary, supernatural product that exceeded the norm. But what exactly counted as a Unique Quality? How did it differ from Kanva, which was a expressed a little more clearly? Apparently, Kanva meant Acquired Skill. Skills were singular, supernatural techniques that could learned within the Compound Demesne of Fallen Authorities. It seemed surreal to the Incarnate that he could acquire supernatural abilities. It appeared so illogical and absurd. How would he acquire these skills? That was, for now, unclear as well. Equipment was straightforward. He had none. Apparently, the lousy brown tunic made of cheap fabric over Incarnate ^8001''s body didn''t count. "Good to know," he said. With a simple desire to look past the tablet blocking his vision, it disappeared, leaving him able to see what was ahead. Thick, broken, off-white pillars, supporting nothing but a dark night sky created a corridor before him. Between them was an immaculate yet worn stone tiling that abruptly ended to give way to a massive desert marred with broken and destroyed buildings. These buildings were much too large for the average human to live in, as the Incarnate assessed. Aside from the ominous feeling they inspired, the Incarnate found them rather beautiful in an otherworldly sort of way. He walked forth. The foundations of these countless, grand constructs which looked to have housed even more astounding beauty in their prime, before whatever fell and degraded them, were most of what was left. Incarnate ^8001 stepped on the sand hesitantly. In the night, it didn''t assume its golden purity, but instead looked like a dark, lumpy sea in between the constructs. A heavy, cool wind walloped the Incarnate and he shivered. ''Cold...'' There was no moon above, but somehow, there was some dull highlight over everything that allowed him to see. He trudged forth, though with more than a little caution. ''It doesn''t look like there''s anything living here...'' he thought, making sure to look in every direction every five seconds. When he could, he would walk through the innards of the broken structures, making sure to look for anything of value. There was none. There was no threat either. This continued to hold true thirty minutes later, as Incarnate ^8001 moved aimlessly. The only thing of note was that the sand rose higher and higher in the direction he chose to persist in. ''What am I supposed to do here? I imagined I would have to fight or find something,'' he thought. So far, there wasn''t any indication that he would find so much as a fly, much less some ancient relic, which left the new Incarnate a little underwhelmed by his first magical experience. He didn''t continue to find the same odd, lifeless structures for long, however. As he trekked up a particularly high mound of sand two hundred meters from where he had started, he witnessed a chilling sight. Behind the mound and a few paces away, was a massive, conical pit in the sand that ended with the same rugged stone tiling at its bottom. Trapped within and around it this pit were the ancient skeletal remains of hundreds of people ¨C at least they resembled human remains. Some were wearing tunics much like his, only hideously worn out. Others were adorned in sets of armour with peculiar branding on their chest plates, or luxurious robes and cloaks. Many of the skeletons weren''t fully intact. Some only retained what used to be hands, and for some, heads. Those among the hundreds with their limbs still attached, had their hands raised, their mouths agape, as though they had died calling for something. The view of this collective somehow made goose bumps appear on the Hollow Demonling''s skin. ''What happened here?'' he thought, feeling awe and fear brimming from his gut. But this wasn''t the worst of it. There was something else; something on the other side of the pit, casting into it a deep shadow. It was a statue. Even from a distance, it appeared rather large. It took the shape of a fat man with nine, lively eyes on a face that was frozen in eternal laughter. Its body, past the depiction of two incredibly thick arms locked together in a prayer, turned bulbous and curved. Its base, which settled firmly on the sand, looked quite like that an egg. The moment the new Incarnate''s gaze fell upon this great statue, he was overwhelmed by terrible weakness, and discovered for the first time that he had three hearts when they beat loudly against his chest, creating a horrific rhythm that only he could hear. Chapter 4: Pity Mustering every bit of strength that he could wring from his quickly weakening body, Incarnate ^8001 forced himself to backpedal down the way he had come and tumble down the rise he had just scaled. He fell down, eating a mouthful of sand in the process, and thudded onto the somewhat soft sand floor. He took deep breaths as his hearts thundered in his chest, only relaxing after a full two minutes had passed. ''What manner... of heretic object is that?!'' he wondered while laying his hand over his chest and feeling the vibrations from his flesh. ''Were those people worshipping it?'' The Incarnate''s skin tingled dreadfully. He had never really been religious in his past life, though not because he didn''t have the desire to a pious soul. He often blamed time and the environment he was forced to live in. His conscription into the army, which led him to brave endless trials between the borders of life and death for twenty years, encouraged a more pragmatic thought process. What he just felt though, inspired a superior, yet dark appreciation for this new magical world than before. Could this be what those religious folk from his world felt when ''communing'' with their gods? The Incarnate couldn''t imagine the statue he had seen was anything but a representation of something divine. He slowly stood up. His blood was racing. ''Multiple hearts...'' he thought, but this, for now, was trivial. ''Is... is there anything past that statue? Is it the right direction for me to go? I imagine so. But I can''t possibly use this way, right? What if I go around?'' That seemed like a better plan. Somehow, staying here became even more eerie for the Incarnate. He had to move, but he still had to consider which direction had promise. Perhaps if he travelled in a wide arch around the statue, he wouldn''t feel as he did just now - that immense sense of threat. ''Let''s try that...'' he thought, his face turning to an even lighter shade of red. (This was the Hollow Demonling''s version of turning pale.) He took steps to the left, behind the mound of sand which he fallen off from. Perhaps left was the best way. First, he would get a good view, and then... Wait. A thought struck the Incarnate. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. What was he doing? ''Didn''t that voice say how I handle this situation... determines how I''m rewarded?'' he thought, and his hearts thrummed fiercely. That was right. He wasn''t human anymore and he was in a world where the common sense he knew didn''t apply. Besides, wasn''t this a trial for him to successfully reincarnate as the Hateful Demon Tyrant. Would such a being react as a human would, and avoid the unknown at all costs? Would such a being manifest his fear even before godlike entities? Well, that defeated the glory of the name ''Tyrant'' while besmirching the race or moniker of ''Demon.'' The inbred instinct of a mortal contended against this ideology, but Incarnate ^8001 found that his body seemed to agree. Perhaps his hearts were beating not because of fear... but because of excitement, and his mind was the one giving the illusion that his flesh was afraid. The Incarnate wore a determined face. ''Unless I want to be seen as a pitiful worm again, and carry that nameless self into the afterlife...'' he thought, ignoring any resistance in his mind, and took a step ¨C much to his own surprise ¨C towards the treacherous scene he had just fled from. Scaling the mound of sand wasn''t as casual of an endeavor this time around. Incarnate ^8001 gulped without end, thinking about how best to handle this, now that he had foolishly chosen what the weaker bit of himself was calling suicide. He went on anyway. The odd voice from the Isolated Foyer of New Beginnings had said that some of the trials here were easy, while some were nearly impossible to conquer. Surely, none of them could be bested by abstinence, right? ''Looking at that statue is what made me feel weak last time. I... I imagine that perhaps if I don''t look...'' the Incarnate shook as his mind conjured a spectacular vision of failure. ''No! It has to work. If it doesn''t... I was resolved to die meaninglessly anyway.'' The top of the mound quickly came into view, and the Incarnate, unlike last time, kept his head down. He waited a few moments while taking in the cool air... and felt nothing wrong with his body. Elation sprang through his hearts. ''Yes!'' he thought, but a crippling fear quickly arrested his joy, as the fact that the statue of the fat man was still there, remained. ''Alright, alright. Slowly, let''s just walk past this ditch and then past the statue.'' Taking his time, the Incarnate first confirmed that the sand was firm enough for him to stand before beginning his slow trek to freedom. The conical pit didn''t exist for nothing after all and ignoring his footing would be as foolish as leaping into the pit. His life in the army had taught him a thing or two about being wary of the ground, which could be just as potent of an enemy as any skilled warrior on the battlefield. Slowly, the Incarnate walked around, unconsciously stealing glances at the crowd of the perished within the depression. After a while, without anything bad happening to him, he felt a little free to speculate. What had happened to these people? It truly seemed as though they had been worshipping the statue, but maybe there was another explanation for what he saw, after all, even now, he felt his skin shiver just by being close to these remains. ''If they truly perished while praying to whatever that object is, then maybe there is no difference of an end to what some religious people in my past life faced.'' The Incarnate had slaughtered two hordes of fierce cultists in his time as a soldier, but neither, even with their beckoning of the powers they claimed to sacrifice the lives of innocents to, were delivered from his and comrades'' blades. The Incarnate had slaughtered them as easily as the common folk he slew hours before his death. Evidently, this was different, but still. The Incarnate noticed a particular skeleton close to the mouth of the pit. It had on a tattered blue robe that suggested that the one who had worn it had astounding wealth or at least some semblance of an important position. The peculiar thing about it was that this skeleton had in its hand ¨C and with a tight grip ¨C an old quill pen. In the other hand, even more curiously, which was just below the quill, there was nothing to be seen. Did a wealthy noble decide to write his last words before he perished? ''Typical,'' the Incarnate thought indifferently. His emotions quickly changed, however, when he saw once again, among the remains below, a few skeletons garbled in rusted golden armor and extravagant capes that featured faded rims of crimson. They were soldiers. Some wore something less impressive, but still indicative of their occupation. A part of the Incarnate ^8001 pinched. He couldn''t help but feel as though he was looking at fellow comrades who had died, much like him, for nothing. ''What did you die for?'' the Incarnate found himself asking in his thoughts with a pitying gaze. "Why do you pity them, little bold soul?" Chapter 5: Look At Me Incarnate ^8001 leapt in potent fright at the call of a boisterous voice. He turned frantic, hunting for the source, but he failed to find it! Who had spoken just now? The Incarnate had almost fallen into the conical pit, only managing to stifle his fall because of memories of precise body control from his past life! His breath hastened. His hearts'' rates hastened. ''What... what was that?!'' he thought, his cheeks turning light pink. "You have gazed upon me before, little bold soul. Follow my shadow and gaze upon me once more." At once, the Incarnate recognized who... what was talking to him. The shadow he just heard mention of, was the shadow casting itself into the conical pit from the statue ¨C fuelled by the mysterious light that spawned without an expected source from the sky. For a moment, the Incarnate made to obey the command of the statue - to cast his gaze on the statue once again - but he stopped himself at the last fraction of a second. ''No, no, no! I can''t!'' he thought, not even giving himself time to comprehend just how he could understand the language the statue spoke. "You will not look at me? How dare you?!" The boisterous voice came again, a little louder. Incarnate ^8001 began to sweat profusely. The statue was speaking to him, and it now seemed angry. What was he to do now? He thought to do nothing. During the very few moments in his life when he had met the King, the Queen, or their spawn, he had found that when having committed folly that enraged them, the worst thing you could do was continue to talk back. Higher-ranked soldiers kept their traps shut, and he had learned to follow suit. The same was best for this situation, he judged. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. "I see. How stubborn. You remind me of a few very unsavoury moments and persons, little bold soul," the statue said, a hint of mockery swimming in its voice. "Very well. Answer my question at least. Why do you pity these gullible fools?" The Incarnate gulped. He didn''t think there was much room for silence now. The unsubtle way in which the statue had almost convinced him to look at it confirmed to him that gazing upon it meant defeat. What about conversing though? "Speak! Let us converse!" the statue said once more, rattling the Hollow Demonling''s bones a little. The Incarnate answered, though while dreading what might happen. "I...I only pitied the soldiers." There was a pause. A furious burst of laughter then erupted, startling the Incarnate. "Hahahaha! You relate to them, do you? You must have also been a fool who died for nothing in your past life, with no profundity whatsoever. To think the Bahathraden welcomes someone like you." Incarnate ^8001 remained silent, weathering through the ridicule. His sights had been set on the ground the entire time, but he had seen none of the sand sitting around his feet because of his anxiety. ''Should I just continue to stand here?'' he thought before scrambling his intent. The enemy seemed capable of reading his mind, somehow. After a stretch of mirth, the statue spoke again. "None who have passed here ¨C and those are few and far between ¨C have ever shown pity to these fools, only curiosity. That is also to say the few that have managed to pass by me weren''t normal men in their lifetimes," it said before sneering. "Most of them all fell prey to what comes after me. Unfortunately, I am yet to see why a feather like you thinks he deserves to make the world tilt on its side!" Incarnate ^8001 realized belatedly that the sand around him hurriedly began to feed into the pit, carrying him into it! "No!" he cried as he fell. He was forced to panic even more when he saw that under the sand this whole time, there were thousands more skeletons which he scraped and knocked against as he tumbled! The situation seemed treacherous, but the Hollow Demonling did not allow himself to fall into despair. Not yet! He realized that his fumbling sight almost fell upon the statue once again, and he gritted his teeth, grabbing a piece of cloth ripped from a fallen worshipper, and tying it around his eyes. The fabric was loose, allowing him to see the things before him to some degree, which appealed to what he intended. It wasn''t much, but it was something. Incarnate ^8001 desperately clawed at the sand, kicking against much of it in order to attain some semblance of balance. "Just take a look at me, little bold soul. You will not escape this place if you don''t! Let me put your frail will and wiry soul to rest! Yours will not take a moment to devour, not like your fellows who still cling on to their bones!" The Hollow Demonling felt hopelessness surge. What was he to do? When he thought he had made some progress against the tide of sand, a mass of it pounded against him, flinging him towards the mass of skeletons in the midst of the pit! Soon, he was buried among them; he was joining those whom he had pitied. Incarnate ^8001 struggled intensely but to no avail. There seemed to be no hope. He had no opportunity for breath. No prospect for reward. He was now going to die again with the wide face of mirth of the fat man looking down at him. ''What kind of fate is this?!'' he screamed in his mind. "YOURS!" the statue screamed from above, its voice muffled. The Incarnate kept clawing at the sand, but he soon felt suffocating despair. It was over. His choice was foolish. Perhaps he shouldn''t have faced the statue head on, after all. Perhaps he really should have gone around. Perhaps he should have chosen the path to becoming a Handsome Prince. Yet... Right when the Hollow Demonling surrendered to a dire fate, he felt something hard grip him by the wrist, and pull him with immense strength. For a brief moment, the Incarnate was no longer trampled under mounds of sand. Before he could see what had pulled him, he heard a sorrowful voice speak in his ear and was blinded by the glowing tablet at the same time. "Thank you for mourning us, however little, for our foolishness..." [Maestus, the King''s Right Hand channels the dwindling remnants of his will into you] [You have received Enchanted Equipment ¡Á1] Chapter 6: Valiant Subjects Ward [Maestus, the King¡¯s Right Hand channels the dwindling remnants of his will into you] [You have received Enchanted Equipment ¡Á1] With a simple, frantic thought, Incarnate ^8001 managed to see past the glowing tablet and drink the sight of what had given him short reprieve just now. It was the skeleton of one of the figures adorned in the fading golden armour and cape. It held the Incarnate¡¯s arm tight as it knelt on the ground, which was quickly smacked by a wave of sand. The skeleton showed no further signs of motion. It seemed as dead and lifeless as before. However, as Incarnate ^8001 watched, partially blinded, the armour it wore dissipated into spots of purple light that faded rapidly. The armour sets of the other fallen soldiers also vanished, oddly enough. ¡®What just happened? Will? Equipment¡­?¡¯ the Hollow Demonling attempted to rationalise everything that just happened as quickly as he could. ¡®Equipment! It says I received equipment!¡¯ ¡°Oh, so he was that persistent!¡± the voice of the statue came again, a slice of surprise in its tone. ¡°A part of his Far Ji too...!¡± Incarnate ^8001 dreaded that his mind had been read again, but no matter. What had just happened spurred a spark through him! He couldn¡¯t give up yet! He¡¯d been granted equipment, Enchanted Equipment, whatever that meant. Focusing hard on the glowing tablet, the Incarnate looked at the bottom string of text to see... === SeiJo (Equipment) : - [Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward | Grade Potent] +5 STR, +2 AGI - Enchantment I : Wards away harmful supernatural influences around the user. - Enchantment II : 1 in 7 chance of reflecting physical damage back to enemies. - === The moment Incarnate ^8001 locked his sight on the name of his new piece of equipment, the details of its prowess were displayed. ¡®That¡¯s...!¡¯ the Hollow Demonling thought didn¡¯t have enough time to think leisurely. He willed for this piece Enchantment Equipment, whatever it was, to come to him. It was supposed to manifest somehow, right? The rules of this magical place should be as absurd as that. And indeed, they were. In an instant, Incarnate ^8001 found himself gripping tight a strap that passed in front of the palm of his left hand. Another strap bound his forearm to a large, bronze kite shield with sharp edges that glinted silver. It was devoid of any added intricacies besides its unnatural shine and polish, but as the Incarnate held it, he felt his flesh grow taut. The five whole units of strength and the two in agility the shield gave, empowered him. For a moment, he felt like he could burst, but his beating hearts stubbornly coerced the rest of his body to toughen up with heated, rushing blood. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Raaaaar!¡± the Incarnate found himself crying out senselessly, as though performing a war cry without comprehensible words. Without thought, and guided only by instinct, he pushed against the falling swathes of sand with his shield, and to his surprise, much of them, as they reached close to him, were pushed away as though warded off a by a strong breeze! The moment he was given room, the Incarnate leapt upward with all his might, shockingly soaring over three meters to escape much of the unnaturally bending torrent of sand. But the pit was deep and wide, and he had only managed to cover a third of its height. Thinking quickly, the Incarnate begrudgingly stepped over the skeletons that popped from the sand, using them as footholds for his rise! ¡°Fool! Indulge in your boldness any longer and your death with be much more painful than it needs to be!¡± the statue called from Incarnate ^8001¡¯s left, for he was fleeing in a different direction. The bones he stepped on broke under his bare feet, puncturing his skin, but he didn¡¯t stop. When he felt a sturdier frame under him, he leapt again and reached the edge of the sandy pit which began to widen in order to drop him back into its clutches. The Hollow Demonling scrambled past its edge in time and ran with all his might! His newfound speed and strength supported a brand of fleeing he would have never been capable of in his past life. ¡°Coward! Come and die among your brethren in service! There is nothing for you out there!¡± called the statue, but the Incarnate didn¡¯t look back. There was no way he would stay close to that thing, let alone fight it. What good would it do? He ripped away his blindfold and looked ahead. He had been right. Past the statue, there was more to this place. A different view rather than the endless sand that plagued this area. To get there, however, the Incarnate needed to outrun the quickly vanishing foothold of sand that revealed itself to have buried more skeletons than he had thought! ¡®I can make it! I can make it!¡¯ he thought as he focused on the end of the insurmountable sea of golden grains far ahead. Yes, there was something that ended the reign of sand. It was a massive, dark object, like a rock cutting through the desert. He could make it. It might also not be safe, but it was his only hope. The sand begged to differ with his hopeful opinion, however. It dipped, almost making him slip. It was impossible to outrun it. Thinking quickly about the Enchantments... ¡®It wards away supernatural influences...¡¯ the Incarnate thought before extending the hand with which he held his shield behind him. He stumbled as the caving of the sand caught up to him, but with his shield exacting its powers behind his back, he found, to his joy, that the sand¡¯s collapse just barely trailed behind him. Indeed, it worked, just as it had within the pit. The sand was moving oddly after all, clearly influenced by the statue, and his shield, the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward, worked against that influence, if only slightly. Eventually, the Incarnate made a last high leap and fell on the dark patch of rock! Falling with a crisp slap, the Incarnate took rapid breaths before turning behind him. Right before the rugged edge of the dark brown rock, the sand sank down, and thankfully did not spill over the rock to follow the Incarnate, who had already propped his shield up, prepared for the worst. He hesitantly took a step forward without daring to raise his vision too high, lest he catch a glimpse of the statue again and pay for it. Thankfully, there was no boisterous voice mocking him now. Perhaps the statue was too far to exact its influence. Unfortunately, even the sight he limited himself to wasn¡¯t pleasing to look at. Just below the rock he was standing on, an off-white hue dominated everything the Incarnate could see. The golden scape was gone, replaced by a field of skeletons, some whole and some torn to bits. The former had their hands raised, angled in the direction the Incarnate ^8001 had just fled from. This same harrowing scene was present to the Incarnate¡¯s right and to his left. There was no end to these skeletons. There had to be millions of them, if not more. This rock alone stood against them, cutting a path into the sea of remains. As he turned behind him, he found that the rock continued a treacherous distance behind him, before widening, widening further and feeding somewhere he couldn¡¯t see. ¡®Should I have just gone around?¡¯ the Incarnate thought, his hearts now settling a little. He still had his doubts about his earlier choice. But at that moment, the glowing tablet appeared before his sight again. [You have successfully evaded the Fifth Omen of the Amalgam Sand Fiend!] [Your actions are being judged...] [You have been awarded 10 Incarnation Points for an outstanding performance!] ¡°What?¡± the Incarnate exclaimed. Chapter 7: Performance Review A few minutes later, after reining in his initial shock, the Incarnate began to evaluate everything he had skimmed over while fleeing from the... Omen, as he saw identified on the tablet. The Fifth Omen of the Amalgam Sand Fiend. That was without a doubt the name of the statue. It was a name that made the Hollow Demonling shiver. ¡®Damn this sensitive skin!¡¯ He gathered all he knew while looking at his Enchanted shield. In the process, he saw the details of his face on its shiny surface. Two eyes with black sclera and icy blue irises stared back at him, as well as a somewhat cute button nose, and dark ideal lips. He had small pointed ears that flexibly twitched at his slightest desire and long-ish locks of navy-blue hair brushing against their tips. The Incarnate¡¯s appearance didn¡¯t spark much of anything within him, however. He had a lot on his mind; much more pressing concerns. ¡°Far Ji. A Unique Quality? The statue... the Omen mentioned something about that too. That fallen soldier supposedly had it. Did he somehow use it on me?¡± he said to himself and then looked at his shield. It certainly seemed that way. That power, whatever it was, was responsible for the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward. And given what he had seen, the Incarnate thought that the Far Ji the soldier had was tied to the armour he had worn too, which ended up disappearing, along with all the armour sets the other warriors had worn. How morbidly fascinating. The Incarnate remembered Maestus, the fallen soldier, and his words. Perhaps it was his spirit, or whatever remained of it, clinging to his skeleton, that spoke, saying: ¡®Thank you for mourning us, however little, for our foolishness...¡¯ Maestus, whoever he was, recognised the pity the Incarnate had felt for him and all the soldiers. That was probably what led to his spirit offering the Incarnate some much needed aid. That was somewhat comforting. The Incarnate remembered the Omen saying that many had passed through that place, people who had been important in their past lives, unlike him. If Maestus finally perished after doing whatever he did to help the Incarnate, then it must have meant that he had only ever chosen to intervene this time around. And this meant¡­ ¡°I really am being judged...¡± the Incarnate said, and almost made to look back where he came from before stifling the urge. ¡°How I react to certain things... I¡¯m rewarded because of it. Was facing the Omen the best thing to do then?¡± He had begun to doubt it, but it seemed he was right. Facing the Omen despite being assured of death, was the best option, though, the Incarnate didn¡¯t know if choosing that route was indeed supposed to end with a mysterious skeleton grabbing a hold of him and channelling within him its will. In any case, apparently, his performance was judged as ¡®outstanding¡¯ and he had even gotten a reward. === IP : 10 === As he willed the glowing tablet to appear before him once again, the new Incarnate found a new slot below everything else he had seen before. It was the one for Incarnation Points, denoting the measly ¨C as he thought ¨C ten he now owned. As he focused on them, a lot of context was brought to his attention, just as it had been when he learned more about Kanva, Acquired Skills. However, this time, it appeared with a miniature version of the glowing tablet stacking on top of it to add more clarity. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. [You may use Incarnation Points to increase any of your physical attributes with a 1:1 ratio, or you may use Incarnation Points to invest in the acquisition or Definitions of your Far Ji (Unique Quality)] ''I... see.'' The Incarnate didn''t quite see, to be honest. The physical attribute section was easy enough to understand, but all this about the Unique Quality... ''How do I acquire a Unique Quality?'' To this, there was no answer. No further exploration was afforded to the Incarnate where the ''Unique Quality'' was concerned. Was it something else he had to figure out on his own or would context be given when necessary? ''Well, at least I know there''s more chances for growing stronger.'' Before long, Incarnate ^8001 grew tired of the lack of answers and thus focused on the only thing he had that had a good definition of itself¡­ after traveling further down the rock in order to put some distance between himself and the Omen, that was. He gazed upon his kite shield. Its polished bronze hue and sharp, silvery edges gave a sense of fanciness that almost made the Incarnate feel like he wasn''t just a lowly Hollow Demonling ¨C whatever that actually was ¨C without anything to his name. His earlier victory was thanks to this shield and by extension Maestus, the King''s Right Hand. ''Good thing I lived out my years as a pathetic foot soldier¡­¡¯ the Incarnate thought morbidly. The Incarnate then went on to check the details about the Valiant Subject''s Ward. A thought sufficed. The glowing tablet appeared and emphasised the segment with the Equipment tag. === - [Valiant Subject''s Ward | Grade Potent] +5 STR, +2 AGI - Enchantment I : Wards away harmful supernatural influences around the user. - Enchantment II : 1 in 7 chance of reflecting physical damage back to enemies. - === "Enchantments, hmm?" Incarnate ^8001 said ponderously. Usually, back in his world, ''enchanted'' or ''enchantment'' were hardly words that meant anything magical. Here, they seemed to be just that ¨C supernatural properties applied to something. The Valiant Subject''s Ward had two Enchantments. One that resisted harmful influences targeted at him, and another that, with a fixed set of chances, could reflect physical damage from an opponent. The Incarnate was extremely thankful for the first one. Without it, he was sure he would have been done for. The second, while he hadn''t used it, was also very good. Such a thing would have made a world of difference in his past life. During wars or the littlest skirmishes, it was always likely to meet an enemy with more physical strength than you. Causing a rebound of that strength would be a priceless skill. Besides these Enchantments, the Valiant Subject''s Ward gave a boost to the user''s physical attributes. Speaking of this boost... "I need to see the clear difference..." the Incarnate said. It seemed the valuation of stats had been something he underestimated all along, or rather, he didn''t give it enough consideration. He laid the shield down and immediately felt the bloated sensation in his flesh, which he was slowly getting used to, recede. He no longer felt as powerful as before or as fast. "Let''s see." With a swift motion, the Incarnate punched down at the rocky ground, giving his all to the task. There was barely a fancy effect, much less any damage done to the sturdy dark rock. The Incarnate felt the stinging pain from his knuckles, but didn''t mind it much. "I imagine a 1 in strength is only slightly less pathetic than my previous body''s strength," he said. He then grabbed the Valiant Subject''s Ward and felt his muscles draw taut, swelling slightly from an added five points to his Strength and two to his Agility. The Incarnate grunted a little. Each increment was ridiculous. To test this out, he punched as hard as he could at the ground again, and... BOOM! There was an eruption with chips of stone flying off from where his fist landed, leaving an eight-centimetre-deep hole twice as large as his fist. Stirring dust added to the surprising result, and the Incarnate beamed. "Incredible!" he exclaimed. Such strength... This was truly not his old world. And he was certainly not the same old man without talent anymore. With just this, he could grow stronger than he had been ''Should I use my Incarnation Points to increase my attributes then, and add them to those I get from the shield?'' he thought and quickly kicked away the idea. ''No. Not yet. I should save them.'' Indeed, saving seemed like the better option. If an outstanding performance only gave him 10 Incarnation Points... The Hollow Demonling shivered. What if his next task ended with him getting an inferior assessment or even death? The Incarnate kicked away that dark thought too. He had to stay optimistic. He had to maintain the same mindset that had netted him the victory today. Reeling back his better thoughts, the Incarnate became excited about future prospects but stifled the feeling shortly after. Getting too exhilarated was one of the fanciest ways to get killed, especially in a place like this ¨C one he didn''t know. It was certainly effective back in his old world. He looked ahead. Having evaluated all he could, he decided to cautiously journey ahead now. The Omen had shown him an example of the things he was likely to face, and that made him keep his guard up as he forged forth. Fortunately, or unfortunately for the Incarnate, the rewards he was to gain from here on out, were to be acquired by blood, grit and a tremendous consciousness of self. Chapter 8: The Dark Crevice Two hours later, the Incarnate had crossed a decent stretch of the large rock, which was larger than he had thought initially. It went on and on, growing wider and wider until he couldn''t see where it ended on both sides. This was actually pleasing since he didn''t have to look at the skeletons anymore. Though perhaps more pity on them could have earned him another boon. Also, different from what Incarnate ^8001 initially anticipated, the rock wasn''t and didn''t have anything special. His wariness and suspense at the start of his journey were rewarded by the same disappointing nothingness that followed when he had been wandering the beautiful remnants of civilization behind the Omen and glorified grave. Things only began to change now when the rock showed signs of sloping relaxedly into what looked like a crevice. It was somewhat wide. The Incarnate judged that three of him could walk through at once shoulder to shoulder. The crevice continued on into the horizon, straight and true. Incarnate ^8001 hesitated. The sensible bit of him told him to just continue on around the crevice, but another bit reminded him that avoiding the most queer of circumstances in this place was out of the question. This had been true with the Fifth Omen of the Amalgam Sand Fiend, hadn¡¯t it? The Incarnate looked down into the crevice. It was dark, and the black beckoned him with all the ominous foreboding in the world. Indeed, this was definitely where he was supposed to go. ¡®Hopefully, this isn¡¯t my grave. Well, if it is, I imagine it¡¯s classier than the one I just ran away from.¡¯ And the Demonling dipped into the crevice with his shield propped up. The descent into the crevice proved to be longer than he had thought. It was only after eighty meters of steady climbing and sliding that Incarnate ^8001¡¯s feet touched the moist, cool, flat ground. The high walls on either side promised to keep him ensnared no matter how he would try to escape any danger ahead. The incarnate gulped. ''Well, here go.'' He hunched and walked forward. His steps had a wet, faint squelch that he didn''t quite like. Wet moss grabbed the space between his toes. The ground grew wetter the farther the Incarnate went. The sheer length of the stretch ahead tempted him to just hurry forward, but he got the feeling that that was a terrible choice, especially with the teasing light; the Incarnate hardly saw much ahead of him even as time passed. ''Just keep your composure, and make sure to look in every direction,'' he told himself. A few minutes passed. The Incarnate almost grew weary of the constant fear of hundreds of archers suddenly appearing from either side of the crevice walls, and firing down hundreds of arrows down at him. This scary bit of imagination wasn''t without cause. Incarnate ^8001 had seen such an ambush tactic a few times and was lucky to have escaped each time. Well, some of that credit belonged to the little wisdom he had accumulated up to the age of fifty in his past life. Even a skilled soldier could be promoted to a hedgehog in seconds ¨C the dead kind. The intuition of the old had its quirks. Right when the Hollow Demonling had taken another step, following a quick, wary look above, he saw from the corner of his eye, an obscure figure mysteriously pop ahead of him. His sight quickly shot forward and he raised the Valiant Subject''s Ward. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. What was that? A man? Indeed, it was. At least it looked like a man. A solid ten meters ahead, a broad-shouldered figure a full head taller than the Hollow Demonling could be seen. He was dressed in the incarnation of rust itself ¨C what had likely been a set of armor more extravagant than Maestus'' ¨C fitted with worn felt and rags around the waist and back. He also wore a helmet, chipped unevenly at the visor, likely because the slightest contact would bite at its rusty integrity; it hid most of this figure''s facial features. Incarnate ^8001 shook lightly at the sight, but he turned a lot more frightful when he saw the gleam of a weapon in the figure¡¯s hand. Instinct suddenly made the Incarnate raise his shield and support it with his other hand before he even understood what he was doing. The reason became clear just a few moments later, when he heard three, chilling booms on the ground ¨C racing feet ¨C and felt a mighty force that smote hard at the Valiant Subject''s Ward. The Incarnate cried out and was sent flying, smashing against the left wall of the crevice violently. He then slid down, groaning. ¡°Argh!¡± The Incarnate was stunned. His three hearts immediately began to beat wildly; his blood rushed. What was that speed? That power? He shook, discarding the bits of delirium. With great effort, he rolled and stood up¡­only to find his enemy flying towards him with a great, poison-green rusted mace raised to crush. The Incarnate stifled his fright. Twenty years of fighting in wars at the front lines and surviving each time sparked his new body¡¯s cells into action, and he made the hasty effort to leap back, narrowly avoiding the attack that came falling. BOOOM! The ground groaned in pain. A large crater was left in the wake of the rusted warrior¡¯s mean attack, and he didn¡¯t stop. He heaved his mace and rushed after Incarnate ^8001, catching up easily, and then swung it with the grace of a whip. The Incarnate¡¯s eyes were alert, and so was his sensitive skin. It itched in the presence of the enemy, especially their weapon and armor. Unfortunately, the Demonling couldn¡¯t dodge the enemy¡¯s attacks at this close range, thus he had long opted to block with the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward. The shield barely made it in time, but the Incarnate still paid a price. He was flung to the right wall of the crevice, where his body crashed with so much force it got lodged in. The enemy sped towards him. ¡®Damn it all! He¡¯s too fast and too strong!¡¯ The Incarnate gritted his teeth as he desperately attempted to extricate himself from the wall. He didn¡¯t make it in time. The armored figure arrived before he could, and sent his fist into the Incarnate¡¯s chest! Never before had the Incarnate felt so much ferocity from a punch. He tasted blood instantly and heard a few of his bones breaking. That wasn¡¯t good. That wasn¡¯t good at all! However, the Incarnate felt more alive with the pain, strangely enough. Even when the enemy raised his mace, intent on exploring the contents of his head, the Incarnate didn¡¯t feel his fear turn into terror. Instead, rage and fervour exploded from him. He hadn¡¯t felt like this since his first two years in the King¡¯s army! ¡®I¡¯ve died once already. If I¡¯m going to die again, I might as well die like a warrior, not like a common worm!¡¯ he cried inwardly, and with a good, vicious pull, he dragged himself from the wall, and raised his shield just before a falling mace bashed his head in! The heavy impact was present again. The Incarnate¡¯s body even dug a few centimeters into the ground as a result of it. However¡­ VWOOOP! The Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward suddenly emitted a faint, silver glow, and the next thing the Incarnate knew, his enemy was blasted away into the air and then into the wall three meters high up! The crash sounded sweet to the Incarnate, however shocked he was. What had happened? What was that just now? But he then recalled¡­ His shield¡¯s second Enchantment had activated! All the armored figure¡¯s lethal power and impact on the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward had been sent straight back at him! ¡°Ha¡­haha¡­¡± the Incarnate laughed awkwardly. He was still alive! His hand was trembling, but he was still alive and had even managed to buy himself a breather, though it wouldn¡¯t last long. He still had to face the fearsome enemy again in a matter of moments. What would he do? Just then, the glowing tablet appeared in his sight. [You have encountered your first mortal enemy ¡®Tenyen, the Crusher¡¯, and managed to survive a few of his blows ¨C a noteworthy feat] [If you are a warrior indeed, you will walk away from horror having learned much. To acquire a portion of the might of Tenyen ¨C to acquire a skill from him ¨C you will need to match him in the same respect the skill empowers] [For beyond this point, hard work, determination and sincerity alone¡­ may not be enough] Chapter 9: Against The Crusher! Incarnate ^8001 paused and groaned while grabbing at his chest. He was in agony, but his body held. ¡®Tenyen the Crusher?¡¯ he thought as he looked up at the armored figure lodged in the crevice wall. ¡®That¡¯s¡­accurate.¡¯ The name of his opponent didn¡¯t inspire much optimism in him, but the next thing the glowing tablet pointed out was rather interesting. Finally, he was getting more information about the Kanva ¨C Acquired Skills! ¡®I have to match Tenyen in the same respect his skill empowers? What is that supposed to mean?¡¯ the Incarnate thought. He had been on an adrenaline high, but all that energy was somehow lessened by the need to employ more than a few terrestrial brain cells. While it was great that there was an answer for how to get the supernatural abilities he had been curious about, there was no expansion. He was going to have to figure it out¡­ without dying. That option was very much still on the table. Evidence of this began when Tenyen dropped from where the rebounding of the force he had dished towards the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward had sent him. He landed like a fabled hero and looked up, his chipped visor expelling a portion of the deep evil hidden behind it. The Incarnate gulped. ¡®Has he been using his Kanva? I can¡¯t tell. I imagine all he¡¯s shown until now may just be his raw strength,¡¯ he thought while propping his shield up again. It was difficult with his broken ribs, but his body was firm, he realised. Indeed, he wasn¡¯t human anymore. Tenyen took a step forward, then another and another. Incarnate ^8001 sucked in a deep breath. It was improbable that the second Enchantment of the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward was going to activate in such a timely manner again. He couldn¡¯t afford to rely on that too much. ¡®Come on. I can beat him. I just need to stay composed.¡¯ Just then, the Incarnate¡¯s skin tingled ominously. Something blazed from Tenyen¡¯s body and caused the cool air to become restless; it whipped out from him and cascaded outward in a dense shockwave! At first, the Incarnate didn¡¯t see what it was that caused this, only noting that it wasn¡¯t just a simple gust of wind. However, after squinting, focusing on the approaching figure of the enemy, he saw it! A pale, silvery-blue torrent shrouded Tenyen! It felt cold and mystical, as though it represented a chill that wafted from the Crusher¡¯s very soul. It forced the Incarnate to turn pale and take a step back. He couldn¡¯t understand what it was. He couldn¡¯t comprehend it. It was no doubt supernatural, and it made his already fearsome enemy turn even more intimidating. Great! Because his enemy needed a power-up! If Tenyen was a rabid dog before, now he was more like a furious tiger. And with this presence empowering him, Tenyen raised his foot and stomped hard on the ground. The Incarnate felt his insides jumble up. The ground crashed inward over a wide radius, breaking into small portions, some of which flew up. The Incarnate lost balance. His feet wobbled and his stance was broken immediately. Just as that occurred, he felt Tenyen move again. The armored combatant raised his mace, and his opponent watched as the silvery energy slipped into it, making the rusted head glow. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. ¡®That¡¯s not good!¡¯ Incarnate ^8001 shuddered. He didn¡¯t need any additional exposition. He could tell. That was Kanva. That was an Acquired Skill! Tenyen lunged forward and then flung his mace from a distance. The weapon flew erect, aiming for the Incarnate¡¯s feet with a forceful gust accompanying it. Unfortunately, the Demonling didn¡¯t recognize what his opponent intended until the mace had struck the ground he stood on¡­ and caused an earth-shattering explosion that kicked up shards and chunks of rock alike! The impact was extraordinary. It unleashed a blinding radiance, a stupidly powerful blunt impact, and a warm heat blast at the same time. The results of all three pelted the Incarnate all over, dealing constant damage, blinding him, and drawing blood! It went without saying that the Demonling¡¯s feet were assaulted with the heaviest damage, making every inch of movement extremely painful for him. To add insult to injury, his opponent had closed the distance in the time he (the Incarnate) was facing the treacherous conditions. He still had a shroud of that silvery essence around him, and much of it gathered in his hand, which balled into a fist. The Incarnate¡¯s skin tingled. He couldn¡¯t see his enemy, but he sensed his presence through his skin. That energy he possessed made him extremely alert, more than before. ¡®It¡¯s coming!¡¯ Indeed. The punch was coming. For some reason, the Incarnate could tell that on contact, he was going to die, and that if he blocked ¨C if he somehow managed it ¨C that wasn¡¯t going to do him much good either. Once again, death stared him in the face, and as it did, his mind cranked into high gear. ¡®Not yet!¡¯ he thought in desperation. Despite how intimidating his enemy was right now, nothing could stop him from trying not to die so miserably ¨C so pathetically ¨C for a second time! The Demonling dropped when he felt the crushing might of the punch approach and tackled him. Tenyen was taken by surprise, and though he was rather sturdy ¨C as the Incarnate discovered right then ¨C he fell to the pile of broken ground with the Demonling. The Incarnate felt a sense of triumph, but his success came at an unexpected price. Not only did the pain from his broken bones and shredded skin mount, it seemed that coming into direct contact with the silvery blue energy without protection, was a very, very bad idea. Despite how cold it felt from afar¡­ ¡°ARGHH!¡± the Demonling screamed. It burned. Hurriedly, he rolled to the side as his skin sizzled, his eyes watering. That mystical energy burned like fire. Tenyen also hastily stood up and rushed for his mace. When he noticed this, the Incarnate felt his skin turn cold. The Crusher was up again and¡­ The silvery-blue essence was drunk in by his mace again He was going for the throw! He was going to use that fearsome Kanva once more! The Hollow Demonling grit his teeth. He couldn¡¯t allow himself to receive that attack. Taking it meant death or something close to it, especially with the short distance between him and the enemy. ¡®Not yet!¡¯ he screamed in his mind. ¡®Not like this!¡¯ ¡­ Thus, while taking inspiration from his opponent, he slipped his arm free from the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward¡¯s straps, grabbed its edge tight and cocked back his arm. Back in his living days, the Incarnate had never been much of a shield user, but he recalled that the best of them could do this too. He had even seen a pair of enemies fall as a result. Using the six points of strength he currently had to the limit, he threw his bronze shield at Tenyen, hoping that his aim was true enough. Just a moment later, as he felt the additional strength leave him, the Incarnate watched as a glowing mace soared towards him at breakneck speed as well! The shield hurtled toward Tenyen, and the mace towards the Incarnate who was already diving. He recalled a flash, a rough impact, and his body was flung as the ground groaned in bass. Fortunately for him, the mace had ill aim. The Demonling had cast his shield first, unconsciously taking advantage of Tenyen charging his mace with the mysterious essence. He imagined that his incoming shield might have forced the Crusher¡¯s aim to be less precise. The Incarnate¡¯s thigh had met the worst of it, while whatever was behind him had been dashed to bits in an explosion. The Incarnate panted with a face full of agony, but he was relieved. It could have been worse. He turned to his opponent. The Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward¡¯s sharp edge was lodged in Tenyen¡¯s face, splitting his rusted helmet apart, revealing a rather¡­ ugly face. Festering, reddish-black flesh spotting maggots could be seen covering a visage devoid of expression. The Incarnate recoiled, perturbed. ¡°What in the world¡­!¡± he thought¡­ before realizing that his enemy wasn¡¯t dead! The bastard didn¡¯t drop! The Incarnate was shaken, understandably so, but he rushed towards the fiend, which started to come to a stand. ¡°No, you don¡¯t!¡± he cried and grabbed ahold of his shield, pushed it and its victim to the ground, and pressed with all his might! He roared, allowing his fear, apprehension, and excitement to take control, and finally, the sharp edge of the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward finished the task. Tenyen¡¯s head¡­ was split in half. Chapter 10: Sundering Bunt The Incarnate sat down, panting hard. His eyes didn¡¯t leave the sight of his fallen opponent¡¯s split head which oozed rotten juices and pungent, shrivelled fleshy bits. He would have loved to celebrate his victory and rejoice in the fact that he was still alive, but his mind was still trying to process what it was fed. What was this thing? A walking corpse? Even though the Incarnate hadn¡¯t tried to initiate a conversation with Tenyen, it wasn¡¯t because he hadn¡¯t thought it would be possible. He had imagined that conversing with the armoured figure would be pointless. If this was a Trial, one that was guaranteed to be immensely difficult, in fact, then there was probably no room for tea and biscuits. Besides, being used to the battlefield in his old life, the Incarnate wasn¡¯t in a habit of trying to share a sentiment chat with a clear enemy. Usually, when opposing opponents went on long monologues, it was either to distract or to buy time anyway. ¡°So¡­ what is this thing exactly?¡± the Demonling said as he poked the fallen creature. He had noticed that the armour it wore was different from Maestus¡¯. Even though it was worn, it looked more¡­ extravagant, meaning whoever it was that was wearing it wasn¡¯t some common Knight. Just as he wondered though¡­ [Well done! You have matched ¡®Tenyen the Crusher¡¯ against his renowned ¡®Blasting Buck¡¯!] [You have received ¡®Sundering Bunt¡¯!] The Incarnate shook and all his attention withdrew from the subject of the decaying enemy. ¡®I received what?¡¯ At once, the Demonling summoned the full glowing tablet to check. His mind was already speculating on what the information that had just been announced meant, and to his delight, it turned out he was right! ¡°I knew it!¡± he cried with a big smile. === --- Kanva (Acquired Skill) : >Sundering Bunt --- === The Incarnate had earned his first Kanva! He was so excited that he took several moments just to stare at the text before him while a replay of his fight repeated in his head. ¡°So, that¡¯s what it meant by matching Tenyen in the same respect his skill empowers,¡± he said to himself. ¡°That¡¯s how I can acquire these supernatural powers ¨C skills! All I have to do is confront an enemy in the same aspect whatever skill they have enhances their abilities.¡± Tenyen¡¯s Kanva ¨C as the Incarnate discovered just now to be dubbed Blasting Buck ¨C allowed him to reinforce his mace with whatever that silvery blue energy was, and launch a throw with it that was capable of daunting devastation. In all honesty, the Incarnate considered himself lucky to have survived that Kanva twice. The first time, he survived because Tenyen was probably wary of him blocking it with the shield, and had thus sent it blasting where the Incarnate stood, dealing damage while also blinding him. The second time, he only managed to escape death because he had been the one to fling his shield first before Tenyen could, and that had messed up the warrior¡¯s aim. It was also for this reason that the Incarnate managed to receive a Kanva of his own. Stolen story; please report. He matched Tenyen against his Blasting Buck by throwing his shield. The trick to acquiring skills laid in not being afraid to face an enemy while they were at a clear advantage because of a specific supernatural ability. In a way, it was a leap of faith. A clearly suicidal one. The Incarnate rubbed his thigh, which was swelling. ¡®Does it mean I have to kill them after matching them to gain their skill? If that¡¯s the case¡­¡¯ He looked at Tenyen¡¯s corpse. That wasn¡¯t good. If he met a much stronger opponent, he was as good as dead, then! ¡®Alright, alright. For now, let¡¯s focus on this new Kanva,¡¯ the Incarnate thought. He smacked his face. Strangely, the Kanva he received had a different name to the one Tenyen had. He focused on the text, and just like when he first acquired the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward, the full details of Sundering Bunt were revealed. === [Sundering Bunt | Grade Rare] Infuses Spirit Essence into a weapon to maximize damage from both its finer features and a full power throw. - Cost : 20 Spirit Essence units === ¡°Spirit Essence?¡± the Incarnate said with a thoughtful look. This was the first thing to draw his attention. He turned to the poison green mace Tenyen had wielded and rose to go and grab it with a limp. In his attempt to lift the mace, Incarnate ^8001 was shocked by how heavy it was. Without the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward¡¯s attribute additions, he could barely lift it without a vein popping up on his forehead. ¡°How did he lift it so casually?¡± The Demonling then went back to gazing at the tablet. It was no mystery that the mechanic explained in Sundering Bunt¡¯s description was the same Tenyen used when throwing the mace. Despite the different names, his skill and Blasting Buck were pretty much the same. ¡°That¡¯s what it is, hmm? Spirit Essence,¡± the Incarnate said. That silvery-blue coat he had seen which changed the presence of the enemy and burned when he touched it. That was Spirit Essence. ¡°I imagine that¡¯s what I¡¯m missing too.¡± The unidentified quantity (???), the last attribute he was supposed to have, was probably Spirit Essence as well. The thought of it made him feel inspired. To think he could also wield that. Unfortunately for the Incarnate, he didn¡¯t have any Spirit Essence yet. ¡°My new Kanva needs Spirit Essence. That makes sense. A supernatural ability should be fuelled by a supernatural energy. But since I don¡¯t have any yet, does that mean¡­ does that mean this Acquired Skill is worthless to me right now?¡± All of a sudden, the Incarnate¡¯s spirits turned glum. He hoped that the tablet, which had begun to be splurgy with information would tell him how to acquire Spirit Essence, but there was nothing. ¡°Ah, I celebrated too soon. Just my luck, it¡¯s even called Rare. Wait, what does this even mean?¡± the Incarnate questioned. He had seen the Grade tag, denoted in front of the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward, but it had been the least of his concerns two hours ago. As soon as he wondered this openly¡­ [There are three grading systems that define the hierarchy of all supernatural phenomena within Bahathraden, Compound Demesne of Fallen Authorities] [The first, pertaining to Equipment, rates in ascending order ¨C General, Valuable, Potent, Marvel, Dynamic and Supreme] [The second, pertaining to Kanva, rates in ascending order ¨C Common, Rare, Epic, Legendary, Transcendent and Divine] [The third, pertaining to Far Ji, rates in ascending order ¨C Rare, Legendary and Divine] The Incarnate¡¯s eyes sparkled with wonder. So that¡¯s how it was. ¡°I see. Then that must mean¡­¡± he began when goose bumps suddenly grew on his skin. The Demonling didn¡¯t wait for what it was that attracted the attention of his skin to pounce. He raised his shield and the mace, which became significantly lighter, and turned behind him. ¡®What is it now?¡¯ he thought, tense. At first, he heard soft growls that echoed within the crevice, and then, as he squinted, he saw two hulking beasts emerge from the plain path ahead. Again, the Incarnate was compelled to wonder where they came from, quite like with Tenyen, but he kept his focus. The enemies this time, were not ones he could relate to in some way. They were two, shaggy black and brown dogs. They had long, erect ears and slim, narrow snouts. Their limbs were also slender, but not in any way lacking in intimidatory factor. The beasts shockingly reached up to the Incarnate¡¯s chest at least, though the newly alive individual could have attested to the fact that these two canines were pretty much as tall as he was in his past life. That was a frightening detail. What was even more daunting than their height, however, was the fact that the two dogs looked as though they had died a long time ago. Their flesh and limbs remained intact, fresh even, but their faces were stained with maggots, their eye sockets hollow. A foul stench wafted from them, making the Demonling frown. ¡®What is going on in this place? Why are corpses running around?¡¯ he thought while doing his best to maintain a steady stance. The broken bones in his thigh protested. The Incarnate¡¯s composure held at first, but it faltered when he saw one of the dogs walk forth and point its snout in Tenyen¡¯s direction. It sniffed once, twice and when its large, sharp teeth showed from its mouth, the Incarnate knew he was in trouble. Chapter 11: Determined Canines A look of recognition showed itself on the face of the large dog, and the Incarnate knew it was far from being a good sign. Even if the dog didn¡¯t have eyes, it took more than flesh organs to express loyalty, and the Demonling recognized the creature¡¯s subtle emotions. Its master lay dead on the ground, and it¡­ grieved. The Hollow Demonling held his shield tight, feeling the growing tenseness in the atmosphere as the large dog¡¯s focus returned to his figure¡­ and then pounced. Its companion did the same. The Incarnate also sped forward, as fast he could. It wasn¡¯t exactly bravery that inspired this motion. His esteem and confidence had seen a significant rise after his relatively quick exchange with Tenyen, yes, but the main reason was far more solemn. When facing a large target, it was better to attack first or to at least make sure you weren¡¯t the one caught without momentum or a steady stance. As warfare using large, trained beasts was common in his old world, the Incarnate had a few experiences to reference. His shield was before him as he charged, but his speed was severely lacking. Running full tilt with broken ribs and a sore thigh wasn¡¯t exactly ideal, but it would have to do. ¡®Here we go. I have to use every bit of strength I have or else I will be crushed!¡¯ the Demonling thought as the first dog approached from just a few meters away. The second was galloping from his right, lagging slightly behind the first. Finally, the first dog leaped towards the Incarnate, an action that the man-demon thanked his lucky stars for. He tensed his muscles, hunched low, and bashed his shield in the dog¡¯s face before heaving its full weight upwards. Crack. The ideal situation the Incarnate had envisioned didn¡¯t happen as he had wished. The dog¡­ was much heavier than he had thought, even when accounting for the amplification from the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward. His feet sank into the wet ground as he executed the awkward lift, but thankfully, in the end, he managed to fling the dog away successfully after a determined, ¡°Raaaah!¡± In the next second, however, a great maw full of sharp, yellow teeth clamped down hard on his shoulder; the second enemy had arrived! ¡°Arghhhh!¡± The Incarnate had known there was nothing he could do about this other monstrosity. He had already accepted the fact that he was going to have to take some damage. He did his best to stop the momentum from the dog¡¯s charge as a start. Then, with a face contorted in pain and rage, the Incarnate swung his newly earned mace at the dog¡¯s head. A harsh, blunt force undulated through his arm and the air. The Incarnate suddenly felt savage glee. He never thought he could have appreciated how heavy Tenyen¡¯s mace was. The dog he struck didn¡¯t voice its pain, but it staggered. Unfortunately, it maintained its grip on his shoulder. ¡°Let go of me!¡± the Incarnate screamed as he smacked it again and again and again with all his might. He watched as the creature¡¯s head dug inward, its skull cracking, yet it refused to release him. The Demonling sweated. ¡®This bastard!¡¯ Behind him, he suddenly heard growls and hurried, heavy steps. Before he knew it, the other dog rammed into him violently, causing him and the one biting his shoulder to tumble on the ground. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. The Incarnate¡¯s situation worsened. Now, he was pinned to the ground and the second dog maintained its vicious bite despite lying in an awkward pose in the dirt. And to make matters worse, the other canine was rushing towards them. ¡®Ah! If only I had that Spirit Essence! I could make myself stronger! Why is this so hard? Isn¡¯t this supposed to be the First Floor!¡¯ But still, he couldn¡¯t fall here. These rotten teeth merchants didn¡¯t have Spirit Essence like Tenyen. He couldn¡¯t die to them. Not now! His chance to die in this crevice had already fallen with Tenyen! The Incarnate raised his shield¡­ and jammed it into the persistent dog¡¯s neck! The creature shook violently. He felt the sharp edge of the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward sever something. Good! The Incarnate hit the dog again and again and again! As rotten blood sluiced out of the creature¡¯s neck, he finally felt its teeth loosen on his flesh. ¡®Finally!¡¯ However, the other dog was lunging at him again, seemingly intent on biting his head off. Unfortunately for the Incarnate, because of its size, it could probably do so, easily, in fact. But he would not allow it. Fighting against the agony, he rose and swung his mace at the creature¡¯s jaw! A loud crack resounded! While the canine was still mid-air, it spun, and crashed into the Incarnate and they tumbled into the crevice wall. The Demonling hurried to stand, panting and proud. He had gotten good hits on both dogs. However¡­ ¡®What¡­ what are these things?!¡¯ he thought in horror when the creatures stood up without minding their ghastly injuries. The second dog in particular looked rather horrifying. Its head, loosely attached to its neck, was swaying this way and that, yet it still bared its teeth at the Incarnate. The Incarnate backed away. This wasn¡¯t good. A normal beast would have been whimpering or dead right about now. As he backtracked, his foot stepped on something brittle; something that started to break under his weight. Momentarily distracted, the Demonling looked down, and what he saw sapped a little of his previously earned confidence. An old skull loosely attached to a skeleton adorned in a tunic similar to his had been broken into fragments. The Incarnate¡¯s skin tingled in fright. Before he could even digest what this could possibly mean, he heard the racing of the dogs towards him. He swallowed hard, steadied his grip on his Equipment, and ran! He wasn¡¯t quite fast enough to outrun the enemies, but unlike last time, the Incarnate was too rattled mentally to bravely charge against them once again. What¡¯s more, he was probably going to have to sustain another injury if he used that same tactic. He sped forward as fast as he could. To his dismay, he saw several more skeletons like the one whose skull he had casually shattered, all of them adorned in eroded tunics. The Incarnate knew what this meant, but he didn¡¯t dare start to reflect on it. Not now. ¡®Stay focused!¡¯ he told himself. Unless he had forgotten all about the last twenty years, he couldn¡¯t allow himself to act like he hadn¡¯t been on the battlefield before ¨C like he hadn¡¯t been surrounded by the freshly dead bodies of his fellow soldiers. This was no different! The Incarnate¡¯s skin shook lightly. He felt one of the dogs approach. It was just shy of a meter behind him. He guessed that it was the first one ¨C the one he had smitten in the jaw. Good. The two dogs didn¡¯t attack at the same time! All he had to do now was¡­ The Incarnate suddenly turned, fully ready to block and strike. He had guessed right. The first dog, with its dismantled, loose jaw was the one to reach him first. He propped up his shield and the furry bastard bashed against it, its weight and momentum causing the Incarnate¡¯s feet to slide against the ground. However, the moment the Incarnate¡¯s body stabilized, ferocious killing intent sparked in his eyes and he slammed down his mace on the dog, crushing its head into something with less dignity than a pancake! The creature stopped moving and dropped to the ground ¨C dead ¨C but the Incarnate didn¡¯t celebrate the victory. His eyes quickly shifted to the other shaggy canine. He was ready for it. The dog didn¡¯t pounce right away, however. With its swinging head, it leaped to the right, then to the left, and then it charged at full speed, lowering its frame as though to nail the Incarnate with its horns like a bull! The Incarnate was recoiled. By the time he decided to lower his centre of gravity in order to receive the dog¡¯s charge, he realized that he wasn¡¯t positioned very well. Unlike the last dog, this one didn¡¯t charge from right in front of him. It came from the left. Its full weight hammered into the unprepared Incarnate and the two flew towards the crevice wall! ¡®Not the wall!¡¯ the Incarnate agonized. This was just what he needed with a set of broken ribs, wasn¡¯t it? A horrible tackle against a hard, flat surface! To the Demonling¡¯s surprise, however, his body never slammed against the familiar integrity of the crevice wall. Instead, he only recalled the dark, stone block devouring him and his enemy, dragging them elsewhere. Chapter 12: Hidden Path The Incarnate felt his black slam against something hard, dry and dusty. The body of the foul-smelling, shaggy dog falling on top of him right after, made him taste the flavour of dirt before he realized that wherever he had fallen or sunken into, was very, very dark. Panic set into the Incarnate. He blinked furiously. Where was he? How did he get here? This unknown was much more vexing than the pain in his flesh and bones right now. He tried his best to stand, and when he did, he realized that while the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward was in his hand, Tenyen¡¯s mace was not. It must have fallen from his grip when he slammed on the ground. ¡®Damn it all!¡¯ Just as the Incarnate began sweeping the ground with his legs to see if he could locate the weapon, he heard the growl of the remaining dog once again. It pounced. Determined to not feel the sweet sting of his ribs again, the Incarnate dived to the right only to smash into a wall face first. Perhaps because the noise he made was particularly loud, the persistent canine rushed him again, having accurately pinpointed his position. The Incarnate refused to be bested even in the darkness. The dog''s growling acted as a positioning mechanism for him as well. He timed the approach of the dog and when he felt that it was close enough, he swung his shield where he felt its dangling head would be, and then¡­ SHIIIK! THUD! The Incarnate felt the shield slice through and a moment later, a head fell to the ground. The Incarnate plopped to the ground and finally let all his nerves and muscles relax. He took lengthy, deep breaths. With the loosening of all tension, however, the Incarnate felt the excruciating pain from the four holes in his shoulders, his broken ribs, and his bruised thigh introduce itself more thoroughly. He winced and gritted his teeth. He placed his fingers on the wounds from the dog¡¯s teeth. While it hurt like a son of the devil, the Incarnate found that it didn¡¯t bleed all that much, strangely enough. ¡®That¡¯s unusual. There¡¯s barely any blood there at all. It almost feels like all there is, is the blood from when that thing¡¯s teeth bit through my skin and flesh initially,¡¯ he thought. He didn¡¯t know what to make of this. The properties of this new body of his were mostly unknown to the Incarnate. His skin was sensitive to supernatural phenomena ¨C supernatural-er, perhaps, and he had three hearts. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Above all ¨C now that he thought about it ¨C physical attributes aside, this body could take an abnormal degree of punishment. Receiving the attacks from Tenyen with the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward would have been impossible with his old body. It didn¡¯t matter how extraordinary the shield itself was. ¡®Only took all this for me to realize that,¡¯ the Incarnate thought, poking at his chest. Broken as he was, he was still intact. Unfortunately for him, there wasn¡¯t anything more he could glean about himself other than this. At least for now. Thus, after resting for a few more minutes, he stood up and started to analyse where he was. ¡®Let¡¯s see. Me and the dog were about to hit the wall and then suddenly, we were here,¡¯ he retraced. ¡®The walls¡­ don¡¯t tell me we are actually inside the crevice walls!¡¯ The Incarnate hurried to the opposite end of where he was standing and started groping for the wall. It took a strangely long time for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He should have been able to see by now, but he added this oddity to his chest of unexplained supernatural mysteries. Once he reached the wall, he frowned. The Demonling had been wondering where all these enemies were coming from when all he could see was a clear ¨C dark ¨C path in the crevice. But now¡­ Were they all traveling through here and somehow emerging from the walls seamlessly? This kind of witchcraft or sorcery or whatever it was still shocked the new Incarnate. He began organizing his thoughts and as time passed, his eyes finally started to distinguish the darkness from everything else. He saw the beheaded figure of the dog and the small pool of blood around it. His eyes narrowed. ¡®Wait. Since it¡¯s just Tenyen and these dogs¡­ his dogs, does that mean you can only enter this place if you are attached to either of them in some way?¡¯ The Incarnate imagined this could the case. He picked up the severed head of the dog and walked with it to the wall. He then took a deep breath and pushed his hand against it. Suddenly, the thick darkness faded and he saw, once again, the narrow space of the crevice and its other wall! The Incarnate was right. This was the hidden path Tenyen and his dogs used. This discovery, while wonderfully mystical to the Incarnate, didn¡¯t make him feel any better about his situation though. He drew back and dropped the dog head. ¡®Why do I feel like I¡¯m barely halfway through this damned First Floor?¡¯ he thought. Yes, he had survived the Omen and, yes, he had survived Tenyen, but this was all¡­ ¡®If things are like this now, what about the Tenth Floor?¡¯ This thought disheartened the warrior. Yes, it seemed like he had ways to grow, but for now, aside from the Equipment he gained, he didn¡¯t feel any sort of personal edification. The one skill he got, Sundering Bunt, was still unusable because he didn¡¯t have Spirit Essence. If he met someone else like the Crusher¡­ ¡®It¡¯s useless to put weights on my own resolve. I have been in more hopeless situations than I care to count. I survived then, right?¡¯ The sentiment gave the Incarnate no more than a gram of reassurance, but that was enough for now. What he needed was to find the way forward. He looked to the left. The path extended endlessly. He looked to the right. The path forged on without end. ¡®Well, if I relate it to the path in the crevice¡­¡¯ The Incarnate decided that left was the way forward. Thankfully, once his eyes fully adjusted to the darkness, he found Tenyen¡¯s mace and picked it up; wouldn¡¯t want to come across some more, strangely unfeeling, rotten horrors without it. And thus, vigilantly, the Incarnate walked forth. Like the path parallel to the one he was on now, the dark, stony way was silent and empty, though the Incarnate doubted it would remain like that for long. Before he knew it, he travelled for thirty minutes without finding anything eager to bash his head in or sink its fangs into his flesh, which was refreshing¡­ and also unexpected. Where was the rest of the carnage? The slaughter? How could this Floor, the Ruins of the Deserted King Alabas ¨C as the glowing tablet called it ¨C grow soft now? A touch of frustration filled the Incarnate, but he suppressed it. This could be the only time he would get to rest, so perhaps it was best to thank whatever deity watched over this place for it. Time slogged forth with every step the Incarnate took. He quickly got more and more bored and restless. Yet, after some time, he happened upon something that piqued his interest. Chapter 13: Slimes? Days slowly passed; three days, to be exact. At first, the Incarnate was shocked when his old, internal clock told him that a full day had passed since he faced and killed Tenyen and the dogs. It was almost inconceivable to him that he would get so much downtime. So, so much of it. For an Incarnate like ^8001, it was torture. He almost began to prefer his old days at the front lines to this. Entertainment had started to get a bloody meaning as he aged. He remained rooted in his own ideals till death, however, refusing to house demons of indifference to human lives like his fellow soldiers. Yet still, the Incarnate couldn¡¯t deny it. War became the totem of his bones and liquor became the medicine for his soul. Here, in |Prospect For Reincarnation|, he had neither¡­ for days. His body didn¡¯t punish him for this lack as much, as it was new, but his soul did. The former, as he discovered in the past three days, didn¡¯t nag him for food at all. In fact, it was only after the Incarnate thought about ale and cider that he recalled that indeed, the body required sustenance, yet his new body didn¡¯t have such needs. At least for now. This was a beautiful gain. What was worse than idling about in boredom, was idling about in boredom on a violent, empty stomach. The Incarnate¡¯s soul eventually surrendered on the second day, seeing as something bitter to drink was a luxury he couldn¡¯t afford here, much less find. What was in abundance, however, was reflection. The Incarnate thought a lot about the things he hadn¡¯t had enough time to deeply sink his mind into. For one, he really was in another world; a place where the dead were given a chance to try themselves against Trials fashioned to give them a chance at a second life: Reincarnation. It still sounded grand to the Incarnate. He had left his old life behind, where he was nameless, powerless. Heh, he didn¡¯t miss it, of course. It sounded even grander that he had chosen to try his luck to become the Hateful Demon Tyrant for his next life. A loathed but powerful ruler in an ancient world. What did that look like? Why would he be hated? How would he treat his subjects¡­ his soldiers? The Incarnate had allowed his imagination to run wild over the last few days. He found no answers. He had yet to fully sink into this mystical side of existence to decide. The Incarnate also had ample opportunity to think about the skeletons he had seen when he was fighting Tenyen¡¯s dogs. There was no mystery in this. The Incarnate knew from what remained of their clothing that they were Incarnates like him. They had either made wrong choices, bold ones, or none at all. That was usually how life went. It had to be the same here in |Prospect For Reincarnation|. But the Incarnate didn¡¯t allow himself to think too deeply about those who came before him. If he started to think that he might just join them soon¡­ that would be disastrous. Instead, he thought of ways to avoid losing a chance at Reincarnation. One such way was by using his 10 Incarnation Points. According to the tablet, Incarnation Points could be used to increase physical attributes, acquire Unique Qualities, or define Unique Qualities. The first use was straight forward but the other two were not quite clear. The Incarnate wasn¡¯t sure how Unique Qualities were different from Acquired Skills in the first place. At first, he thought to use all 10 Incarnation Points on his attributes since he didn¡¯t have Spirit Essence to use supernatural abilities, but he held himself in the end. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Perhaps it was wiser to keep them for now. While a lot of information was being withheld from him, the Demonling realized that the tablet seemed to give him more information when it was relevant. Like when he was told the method to acquire Acquired Skills against Tenyen. One could argue against how that all went in the end, but still. ¡®There¡¯s too much I don¡¯t understand. If the need arises, I imagine I can just increase my attributes then without any issues,¡¯ Incarnate ^8001 had thought. Contrary to all these inconceivably broad ideas, however, the Incarnate had found something to both ease him into the supernatural world and entertain his mind somewhat. Along the dark path which seemingly had no end, small anomalous objects grew along the edges ¨C where the floor and walls met. Rather than objects, the Incarnate was more inclined to think that they were living things. These¡­ entities, looked a lot like slime. To the Incarnate, slime was sludgy dirt, and that was what he had thought these blob-like things to be until he saw their luminous colors¡­ and their jiggle. Their movement suggested that they were alive in some way, after all, they reacted when the Demonling poked them lightly with his finger. Before he knew it, Incarnate ^8001 found himself enthused by the blobs. They often maintained an irregular, spherical shape, and came in three colors: blue, red, and pink. They had different properties according to their hue. The blue ones were somewhat acidic. When the Incarnate dug his finger into one, he quickly retracted it after feeling a burning sensation that left his already red skin, redder. The subtle sizzling sound also emphasized the blob¡¯s trait. The red ones had a strange sturdiness to them. No matter how hard Incarnate ^8001 had tried to push his finger through them, they refused to give. It was like trying to push a nail through a thick, leather cushion. The pink ones were even more unusual. They seemed to mirror the likeness of anything they came into contact with. For instance, when the Incarnate touched one, it immediately adopted the likeness of his finger down to the details of his dark fingernails. Even the texture was the same, and an accurate fingerprint was branded to the blob¡¯s version of his finger as well. It was very strange, but also very interesting. Testing the limits of this blob became the Incarnate¡¯s pastime. It could copy pretty much anything. He was shocked when it became a miniaturized version of his Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward and his mace. Of course, this property of the pink blob didn¡¯t last forever. It barely lasted for a minute. The reason for this was because the blobs ¨C as the Incarnate discovered ¨C seemed to be capable of using Spirit Essence. With the unusual trait of his skin, he managed to feel bits of the energy when he gathered a mass of the blobs the size of his fist. He felt and saw a bit of the silvery-blue bubble deep within the blobs. At first, the Incarnate was again reminded of his inability to use this power. Why the hell was a stain on the floor able to use Spirit Essence and not him? That wasn¡¯t fair! The only thing that managed to draw the Demonling out of his sulking, was further experimentation with the blobs leading into the third day. When he gathered up enough blobs of the same color, quickly amassing a large clump of Spirit Essence, the amalgam blob began reproducing! Tens of other, smaller blobs flew out of it whimsically and clumsily, littering the floor. When the Incarnate got too bored, he gathered the slimy blobs just to see this unusual, goofy phenomenon. It worked to cheer him up¡­ until now. Presently, the Incarnate was starting to get used to every single one of the slimes. Every single thing they could do no longer entertained him. They became as flavourless as the half-hearted training he had been doing with the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward and the mace. Of course, the Incarnate, to prepare for what was ahead, had used the time he had to familiarise himself properly with the mace and the shield, but he didn¡¯t really feel all too confident even after mastering the weight of each and getting used to swinging them. Unless a miracle happened, he wasn¡¯t going to go too far with just this. ¡­ Just then, the Incarnate felt his skin ripple like a disturbed river¡¯s surface. He felt something oozing from somewhere ahead in discernible volumes. It was Spirit Essence. He stopped immediately, at first thinking he had finally encountered another enemy. However, after waiting for a little more than a minute and finding nothing charging at him, he inched forward. The left wall, which had remained solid and uncompromising for three days finally revealed an opening ¨C a large doorway. Within it, a set of crooked stairs led upwards towards someplace on higher ground ¨C or perhaps rock? This was where the Spirit Essence wafted from like a soft breath of air. The Incarnate was wary. ¡®What now?¡¯ he thought. The current path he was on also changed. It slopped downward after a few meters, transitioning into a similar set of crooked stairs. The Incarnate thought he saw another doorway dozens of meters ahead, along the slope, but he couldn¡¯t be too sure. He looked at the inviting doorway to his left. Was the next step of his Trials this way? Should he go through it? He swallowed hard. ¡®Might as well. I was itching for another fight a few days ago,¡¯ Incarnate ^8001 called himself out. Chapter 14: Heretical The Incarnate steeled his resolve and took a step forward. There was no other choice. The call of the Spirit Essence from the doorway made him believe that going down the slope instead was a terrible mistake. Maybe other Incarnates who chose something similar were rolling in their supernatural graves right now. ¡®Well, I guess I could always come back. Maybe,¡¯ Incarnate ^8001 thought morbidly. He placed his bare foot, caked with bits of mud, on the first step. The floor was a lot colder here, maybe because of the Spirit Essence. He continued on the path, feeling the light brush of energy against his skin. Silently, the Incarnate scaled the stairs, finding with each meter he traversed that he had a decently long way to go. That was both a good and a bad thing. Even though he didn¡¯t have much trust in his Equipment when thinking about the horrors to come, he still held them both tight. The Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward had most of the Incarnate¡¯s faith, though, after all, the mace, as the glowing tablet identified¡­ === --- SeiJo (Equipment) : >Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward >Bash Brain --- [Bash Brain (Worn) | Grade Valuable] +4 STR [N/A] - Enchantment : N/A === Bash Brain, the mace, was worn. Whether because of time, or whatever made the mace mystical in the first place being compromised ¨C the Incarnate obviously didn¡¯t know ¨C the weapon¡¯s effects and enchantments were no longer usable. The Demonling had been thoroughly displeased when he found this out. Bash Brain was already inferior to the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward by a grade, but having it not be functional as a supernatural weapon on top of that, was hideously unfair. If not for the fact that whatever the mace was made out of was rather strong and resilient, ridding Bash Brain of some of its irrelevance, the Incarnate didn¡¯t know how he would have felt. At least the mace still worked as an instrument for clobbering. His march up the stairs continued, and fortunately for him, it wasn¡¯t too dull. The slimes he had seen before were abundant down this path as well. Not only that, they were bigger. Unlike the previous ones ¨C which were roughly the size of an eye ¨C these were bigger than the size of his fist individually and had more vibrant colors. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. As the Incarnate moved up, he felt the Spirit Essence pouring from his destination get denser and denser to the point where he could see it with his eyes as flakes, or maybe, sparks of silvery-blue. And as the intensity of the energy grew, so did the sizes of the blobs. ¡®They are feeding off the Spirit Essence to grow,¡¯ the Demonling thought as he focused on a blue blob. ¡®I imagine if I poke my finger in there, it will probably melt off.¡¯ That¡­ was true. The potency of the properties of the blobs grew with their size. Somehow, this made the Incarnate feel uneasy. Twenty meters later, he felt the Spirit Essence burn his skin lightly, like steam, which was ironic considering that his feet were very cold. In any case, he was almost there. Just thirteen steps away was a large, rectangular, welcoming gap where a burst of different colors and muted highlights could be seen. Despite the feeling the Spirit Essence gave, the Incarnate couldn¡¯t wait any longer. Vigilantly, he rushed up the remaining set of stairs and leaped into the entrance. The moment flat, consistent ground registered on his feet, the Demonling was ready to swing Bash Brain and the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward. Sadly, no enemy immediately appeared within close proximity. Instead, what met the Incarnate was a large, ovular space with contents that required him to relax his mind to grasp. If he had thought what he saw before was all beyond his understanding, what was before him was even worse. Barring the overabundance of all flavours of blob in this place, all as large as he was, at the very least, everything else was strange. Before the Incarnate could fully sink his mental teeth into it all, however, he heard a boom behind him, and to his dismay, he turned to find that the exit was closed off by a giant mass of rock that would require more than flesh-inspired might to move! ¡°No!¡± the Incarnate cried, but he quickly turned back his attention to what was before him. It was unwise for him to worry about his exit before even understanding what he was up against. Thankfully, his momentary swim through despair didn¡¯t cost him anything. Nothing had rushed him for an attack. Taking several deep breaths, the Incarnate lulled the worries in his heart. ¡®Let¡¯s not be rash. So far, there¡¯s always been a way to escape danger. This shouldn¡¯t be any different,¡¯ he thought. He then thoroughly analyzed everything in sight. The ovular room was not that big and neither did it have a lot of things within it ¨C excluding the slimes, of course. The same dark rock the Incarnate had seen all the way here was the same that formed the walls, but the floor was different. It was made of rough blocks of granite. The only other things to be found here were seven purple drapes attached to the wall equidistantly. ¡®Strange. This place has a lot of light,¡¯ the Incarnate thought. Yes, there was a lot of Spirit Essence within it, giving some light through sparks, but something else¡­ something high up¡­ The Demonling raised his gaze. This place had a very high ceiling. Something especially bright, plastered on said ceiling acted as the source of light. That something was¡­ The Incarnate turned pale, rather, a shade of pink as he backed away to press himself against the huge rock behind him! His icy blue eyes dilated and cold fear ran through his body. What in the name of all that was sacred and holy¡­was THAT?! THAT ¨C as the Incarnate thought ¨C was the body of a tall woman adorned in a black, silk dress. This woman, whose entire outline of atrophied flesh was detailed by her soft dress, was pressed harshly against the ceiling. Her ash blonde hair was chaotically flying behind her, her face, dry and grey, eternally frozen in a look of terror. The absence of her eyes made all this especially terror-inducing. Behind the woman was a strange brand, a vast symbol that looked like stylized octagons feeding into each other sevenfold. It was the source of the light, glowing in a golden peach hue. The Incarnate belatedly realized that all the furious Spirit Essence was pouring from this brand and vaguely ¨C easy to miss ¨C was a faint column falling from the woman and this brand, reaching down to the floor. ¡®What¡­ what is this?¡¯ the Incarnate thought fearfully. If ever there was a scene fitting of the designation ¡®heretic¡¯, this would be it! Everything about this place made the Demonling uncomfortable. What was he supposed to do here exactly? What was being tried here? Just as he wondered all this, the Incarnate saw the glowing tablet appear before his eyes. [You are within range of a Legendary Far Ji (Unique Quality)] [Find its source and pay a fitting price to claim it for yourself] Chapter 15: Willful Katana [You are within range of a Legendary Far Ji (Unique Quality)] [Find its source and pay a fitting price to claim it for yourself] The Incarnate was taken by surprise. ¡®A Legendary Unique Quality?¡¯ he thought. Where? He strained a little and remembered the grading system he had seen for Far Ji. Apparently, there wasn¡¯t much to remember. It simply went from Rare, Legendary to Divine. From the moment it was made known to the Demonling the ranks for Equipment, Acquired Abilities, and Unique Qualities, he became able to comprehend the differences without needing to employ knowledge from his old world. This made all the difference. ¡®Legendary¡­ That¡¯s nothing to scoff at.¡¯ This was especially true when comparing what Legendary meant in the context of the grading system for Acquired Abilities, which went from Common, Rare, Epic, Legendary, Transcendent all the way to Divine. The Incarnate gulped. He had had worries about whether or not a Far Ji would be useful, given how it was going for him with the first Kanva he acquired, but the word ¡®Legendary¡¯ lured his interest. He had to obtain this, right? But that aside, Incarnate ^8001 couldn¡¯t help but wonder¡­ ¡®Where is it?¡¯ His best guess was that the Unique Quality was tied to the atrophied body stuck to the ceiling, but that was pretty high. The tablet had told him to find the source of the Far Ji. If it indeed was related to that corpse, how would he get up there? ¡®Or maybe¡­ Is it¡­?¡¯ The Incarnate stripped his thoughts from the assumption that what he needed was to head for the flashiest thing in the room. His eyes instead honed in on the faint column of light coming from the ceiling. Maybe¡­ The Demonling vigilantly took steps towards the column and when he was barely two inches from it, he took a deep, shaky breath, passed Bash Brain to his left hand, and extended his right into the faint, defined light. Right then¡­ [You have come into contact with the Legendary Far Ji, ¡®Hermetic Vault¡¯] [To seize it as your own, a price of 10 Incarnation Points is required. Would you like to-] Before the full text registered to the Incarnate, his vision got lost. All his senses seemed to stall and sharpen, and involuntarily, his feet moved back three steps away from the column of light, which prompted the glowing screen in his vision to fade away. The Incarnate gulped hard. Sweat dripped from his temples all the way down to his jaw and chin. His skin tingled in a more violent fashion than before. A sword¡¯s edge was at his throat, uncomfortably pressing against his Adam¡¯s apple. While the Incarnate was afraid to move his head, he was still able to see, from his peripheral vision, where the sword was coming from. The sword ¨C a katana ¨C was very, very long, so long, in fact, that it was unnatural. Its blade came from one of the drapes on the walls of the ovular room which was pushed to the side, revealing a narrow, dark doorway. Somewhere past the dark interior hidden by this drape, was the hilt to the katana and its wielder, but at the moment, the Demonling couldn¡¯t identify them. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Three hearts sitting in the aspiring Tyrant¡¯s chest beat furiously. ¡®What is this? What kind of sword¡­¡¯ he struggled to rationalize what he was seeing. Slowly, he reached for Bash Brain, which he had passed to his left hand whose extension housed the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward. As he did so, however, he felt the edge of the katana start to dig into his skin, which made him panic. At once, the Incarnate dived backward and allowed himself to fall on his back on the floor. He thought this was the safest way to avoid being cleanly cut through, in case the assailant was actually trying to decapitate him. Sadly, just as the Demonling met the floor, his eyes widened. The partly rusted katana of faded cerulean which had been standing erect from his right¡­ suddenly pivoted, its blade seemingly extending several meters as it shot down. The Incarnate was shaken, but he still managed to roll to the side and hurry to a stand. Unfortunately, his eyes hadn¡¯t deceived him before. The enemy¡¯s sword bent sharply at an angle before it hit the ground where he had been a moment ago. It then extended again and shot in his direction, ignoring his eyes which were livid with disbelief. What in the world¡­?! The Incarnate propped up his shield just as he realized he was too late in dodging to the attack. Yet, his kite shield couldn¡¯t have protected him against an attack that was as flexible as a toddler¡¯s doodles. The katana wound around his shield and jabbed into his left shoulder, right above his collar bone! ¡°Argggh!¡± The Incarnate almost let himself sink into the feeling of pain for too long. Just as the katana ripped through the flesh in his arm, emerging on the other side, it pivoted backwards and headed straight for the back of his head. The Incarnate¡¯s skin furiously rippled like boiling water. At this moment, he realised that it not only reacted to the supernatural but also warned him against fatal danger somehow. Better yet, as his skin reacted, his muscles also churned at his slightest desire to make a quick movement. It was solely because of this that the Incarnate managed to turn his head away from the malevolent katana¡¯s edge, avoiding certain death in time¡­ but not before a sizable chunk of his cheek was ripped off in the weapon¡¯s wake. The Incarnate roared and knocked the blade upward with his shield where it penetrated his shoulder. The sharp edge tore through him, causing immense agony, but at least he was free. While telling himself to ignore the pain, the Incarnate bolted towards the wall and pasted his back against it. Thankfully, the katana didn¡¯t hurry towards him then. It remained in its bountiful, angled stance in the air, his blood smeared on its surface. The Incarnate panted. His senses were bursting with life, but he was hardly convinced he would still be able to draw breath in the next minute or so. He had placed his body against the wall in order to not give the sword the option of attacking from his blind spots, though that probably wasn¡¯t going to be too big of a boon. ¡®What is going on here? Is this another enchanted weapon?¡¯ he wondered. His eyes remained on the sword. It was a bizarre item indeed, but shockingly effective. Though, as the seconds ticked by, the Incarnate started to dissect a lot more about it. ¡®I don¡¯t know if my assessment is correct or not, but I imagine this sword, as quick as it is, isn¡¯t so fast that I can¡¯t see its movements. Tenyen was faster, I think. Its ability to shift around on a dime is the most terrifying part. If it were faster in addition to that, I probably would have been dead by now.¡¯ The Incarnate felt this was fair to say, but there was hardly any reason to be relieved by it. After a little less than ten seconds, the katana started to recede, drawing back from its weird angles, and shortening in length just before it sank into the narrow space behind the drape. This didn¡¯t ease the Incarnate¡¯s hearts. His icy blue eyes instantly looked at the other six drapes. Behind them, were probably more narrow, dark doorways. Were they connected? If they were¡­ His eyes immediately started to dart between the drapes trying to catch the slightest inch of movement. If he didn¡¯t recognize an oncoming attack fast enough, he would probably die. Propping up his shield, the freshly alive man waited. ¡­ The Incarnate¡¯s skin vibrated, lighting his caution like fire. ¡®It¡¯s coming!¡¯ he thought. But the next thing to happen caught him completely off-guard. A thin figure made the dust in the room whip about as they shot from the same drape the sword had come from. Whoever, whatever it was, was incredibly fast! The Incarnate didn¡¯t register them in his sight until the force of their movement hit him like an angry breeze, and their shadow blocked the light abundant in the room. Before he knew it, the Demonling¡¯s head was smashed into the wall! As he was made delirious by the slam, and choked by the dust from the impact, he felt a rough set of fingers grab his tunic¡­ and fling him hard across the room! In the next instant, the Incarnate sank into darkness as he spun, and his body crashed against a set of stairs continuously while making a descent against an unexpected slope! He had been thrown into the area behind the drapes, and its interior was similar to the path he had come from leading into the ovular room! A moment later, he felt the wind whistle, his skin ripple¡­ and then a long blade pierced through his side! Chapter 16: Not Yet! The Incarnate screamed. This time, he lost himself for a few seconds, and that ended really badly for him. It seemed the katana had actually missed its desired target on his body when it hit his side. Like the Incarnate, the sword¡¯s master seemingly wasn¡¯t capable of seeing through the dark. Or perhaps, it was the Incarnate¡¯s erratic movements as he fell that prevented the enemy from aiming properly at his vitals. Whichever was true didn¡¯t mean much. After all, once the sword exited from the Incarnate¡¯s back, it turned¡­ and started stabbing at his back brutally, and rapidly. This successive stabbing plus the tumbling down the stairs was torture for the Incarnate and for a moment, he almost lost consciousness. However¡­ ¡°NOT YET!¡± the Incarnate roared, pushed his feet against the ground with as much strength as he could muster, and leaped up. The force of his jump caused him to rise and slam hard against the ceiling of the narrow corridor and then plummet to the stairs, but his momentum had died. This had been the Incarnate¡¯s goal, but he hadn¡¯t truly believed it would work. He had risked being cleaved apart by the sword stabbing into him. Thankfully, his manoeuvre also caused the cerulean katana to stop decorating his back with holes momentarily, likely because of the complexities that would have been required for it to twist and accurately puncture him when he moved unexpectedly. The Incarnate, while barely believing he was alive, raised and struck down at the extensive, straight part of the katana before him with Bash Brain. He fuelled all his might into the hit, and just as he expected, he felt the appropriate response from way up the slope of stairs! The sudden, blunt force did not break the sword, but it did prompt its wielder ¨C who was obviously the figure who had hurled the Incarnate just now ¨C to lose his hold over his weapon. Once this occurred, the Incarnate felt the katana lose its hard will. It even started to shrink and lose its complex pivots! And though the Incarnate felt like he had been piggybacking a porcupine; though he felt like some of his intestines had been cut with chef-like precision; though he felt as though some of his bones, in addition to the ribs he had ruined days ago, had been fractured, he maximized this opportunity! ¡°COME, YOU COWARD!¡± he barked with bloody spit flying from his mouth. He began sprinting up the stairs, fumbling at first because he couldn¡¯t quite gauge their placement, but two seconds later, he had gotten used to them. Though his thigh quickly started to burn and ache, he didn¡¯t mind it. All his attention fled to the silhouette by the exit¡­ which rushed to meet him. The Incarnate felt the enemy¡¯s shocking movement speed again. The stairs clapped rapidly as he advanced. This was dangerous. This was probably suicidal. It was unknown whether his enemy was living or not, but the Incarnate imagined his taunt just now sparked something in them. He gripped Bash Brain with all his might and raised the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward. ¡®If you are anything like Tenyen, you are dying here, bastard!¡¯ the Demonling thought to himself. He poured his very soul into the swing of his mace, blasting it across to smash the enemy from the side! MBIIIIIING! The Incarnate¡¯s body shook, and he could have sworn that something fragile within him popped right then. Ruthless vibrations crossed his body through his bones. His strike with the mace was true¡­ but whatever it met didn¡¯t feel like flesh. It felt more like Incarnate ^8001 had slammed Bash Brain against a city wall! ¡®No way¡­¡¯ As horror spread within the Incarnate, it soon became clear to him that time was still moving. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. After all, his enemy hadn¡¯t waited for him to get a reality check. Silvery-blue Spirit Essence bellowed from him and scorched the Incarnate¡¯s skin. The energy gathered around the assailant¡¯s arms, which folded in front of their chest as he crashed into the aspiring Tyrant. The pain that followed for the Incarnate was as bitter as garlic and uncomfortably searing like pepper. His chest protested, and his body set to fly off further into the darkness, but once again, he felt a grip on his tunic which pulled him back so that he could receive an unfriendly headbutt, get his face smashed into the wall, and receive an Essence-enhanced knee into his gut that made the mess on his stabbed side even worse! ¡°RARRRRRR!¡± But the Incarnate was persistent. Even though every hit he took was enough to tear a regular human apart ¨C and quite frankly, was bringing his Demonling self closer and closer to death ¨C he soldiered on. He swiped furiously with the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward to the enemy¡¯s neck ¨C or where he thought it was ¨C while screaming, ¡°COME ON!¡± There was hardly any pleasing result. The sharp edge of the shield did nothing. BAM! A scorching left hook left the Incarnate seeing stars, and feeling the throbbing of his fractured skull. ¡°COME ON!¡± he cried again. He tried to push the enemy away with his shield, but they simply pushed back and slammed him back against the wall. BAM! BAM! BAM! A blow to the sternum, another to the jaw, and the last to the side, caused the Incarnate to vomit blood and cease drawing breath for several moments. These were all jabs, but the Spirit Essence infused in them turned them all into vengefully lethal attacks. Yet¡­ ¡°C-COME¡­. OOOOOON!¡± The Incarnate swung his shield again, and at the same time, his enemy pushed both his fists against it, likely to smugly overpower him even when he had something to block the attack with. This turned out to work in the Incarnate¡¯s favour. After all, the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward wasn¡¯t so cruel as to leave its wielder hanging in the time he needed it most. Its second Enchantment was activated, and the mysterious enemy had the force from his fists rebound against him, pushing him back toward the wall! The Incarnate¡¯s eyes sparkled with hope. He was saved. But he didn¡¯t go on the offensive. Instead, he used all the strength he had left to sprint limply towards the exit and soon, he was in the brightly lit, ovular space again. He tumbled as he reached it, but quickly stood up while heaving. He had a goal. Just as he reached for said goal, however, a cerulean katan whistled through the air, bending this way and that before stabbing into the Incarnate¡¯s calf! The Demonling staggered and fell. He looked behind him. ¡®Again with this!¡¯ he screamed in his mind while gritting his teeth from the immense pain. His enemy was back to using the sword. This was bad! The Incarnate¡¯s taunt had probably expired in the head of his enemy. While the bastard was clearly strong enough to kill him with his bare hands, he had turned back to his weapon now for no other reason than probably to bring variety to the torture. ¡®Come on, just a little more¡­¡¯ The Incarnate leaped towards what he desired, ignoring the katana ripping through his flesh. Unfortunately, the katana extended, pivoted, and stabbed towards his head, but the Incarnate narrowly dodged with the help of his sensitive skin. His eyes glanced for an instant toward his goal before returning to the winding katana. The column of light was what he wanted to reach. A lot of consideration had gone into why he had chosen to head for it instead, but for now, it didn¡¯t matter at all. The enemy was against him getting anywhere near it. The Incarnate rolled away and propped up his shield without blocking his vision. He was roughly two meters away from the column, but the katana¡¯s edge was daring him to try and approach while it was in striking range like so. As the Demonling huffed with strain, he heard the footsteps of the katana¡¯s master. Soon, the monster of a combatant he hadn¡¯t been able to see all this time showed himself. Strangely, the enemy wore the same brand of armor Tenyen had on with a similar level of rust and erosion to it. It was extravagant in its old days, but now, it was just disgusting to look at. The helm the bastard wore was also unsightly, looking to flake at the slightest touch. This made the Demonling¡¯s spirits plummet. ¡®Then that toughness¡­¡¯ he thought while growing pale. Then the hardness he felt when he hit this armored figure with his mace, was not a property of his armor, but his body? But then¡­ that meant this bastard was tougher than Tenyen! The Incarnate ground his teeth. Many thoughts were juggled in his mind. Many deliberations. Things were really looking bad. The enemy had his sword snap back to its original state as a regular katana with a slightly appealing hue, and then he slowly walked towards the Incarnate, his Spirit Essence blazing around him. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. The Incarnate¡¯s hearts beat rapidly. What was he to do now? What was he to do¡­ but go all out? Without thinking, he mobilized all his strength and dived toward the column of light! At the same time, his enemy sped towards him, intent on dealing a finishing blow before he could¡­but the Incarnate had considered that. While airborne, he flung his mace towards where he estimated the feet of the blurred figure to be by the time he took action. Naturally, this didn¡¯t hinder the armored enemy by much, but it did afford the Incarnate a split-second advantage. Sadly, the enemy still caught up in the end and rammed into him at full force while slashing down with the katana. This was the end. ¡­ Well, it would have been¡­ if the Incarnate¡¯s finger hadn¡¯t managed to touch the column of light. In that instant¡­ [You have paid the necessary price ¨C 10 Incarnate Points] [You have acquired the Legendary Far Ji, ¡®Hermetic Vault¡¯] Right then, the vast torrents of Spirit Essence pooling around the atrophied corpse on the ceiling barrelled down towards the Incarnate! Chapter 17: True Demonling Despite barely having time to think for the last few minutes, the Incarnate had considered what the glowing tablet had shown him before. Throughout the brutal ordeal, he had to endure against the armoured figure, a great debate had been going on in his head in disjointed segments. The Hermetic Vault, a Legendary Far Ji, Vs. 10 additional units to his physical attributes. Both of these were options at the Incarnate¡¯s disposal despite the former being much, much harder to discern. Regardless, he felt it was a possible way for him to survive; that could only be the case, after all, power was power. Incarnate ^8001 had considered assigning the 10 Incarnation Points he had to his attributes in varying distributions. It was fortunate that 1 Incarnation Point could become 1 unit of any attribute, but frankly, the Incarnate wasn¡¯t too optimistic about this mechanic applying much benefit to his circumstances. Even 10 additional units of Strength or Agility or Endurance alone, weren¡¯t going to save him from the current enemy, especially since said enemy had shown himself to be a physical monster without even using his Spirit Essence! The bastard was also tougher than Tenyen, and though the Demonling was inclined to believe he hit a little less harder than him, banking on this fact wouldn¡¯t change his perilous ordeal. That was why the Incarnate put all his cards towards obtaining the Legendary Far Ji. The moment his finger touched the column of light with his intent clear erect and clear, the golden tablet announced his reward. [You have paid the necessary price ¨C 10 Incarnate Points] [You have acquired the Legendary Far Ji, ¡®Hermetic Vault¡¯] [Your entirety¡ª] The golden tablet had more to say, but the Incarnate couldn¡¯t afford to read through it. Beyond the urgency brought on by the fact that his enemy had raised his katana to cleave him apart, the vicious pour of Spirit Essence from the ceiling above onto the Incarnate also made him hesitate to spend the next few moments reading. That said, the volumes of Spirit Essence diving down forced the enemy back; suddenly having his opponent highlighted by the surge of power made him reluctant to stay close. The Incarnate didn¡¯t waste the chance. He wore a thrilled grin for the first time since arriving on this floor. The Spirit Essence that fell on him made him feel all kinds of sensations, most of which were agonising and centred around his upper back. But still¡­ ¡®I finally have it!¡¯ the Demonling called in his mind. Indeed, he felt some of the Spirit Essence raining on him filling certain networks inside his body and invigorating him tremendously. It felt like his Demonling body guzzled up all the power and grew stronger and more compact. He might have been a mountain! And then the Incarnate was almost convinced that he wasn¡¯t fatally injured at all. His muscles expanded, sharply pressing down the many tears within them, and holding firm his broken bones. The Demonling¡¯s arms and legs seemed to turn shiny, thick veins that carried more than just blood throbbing on his red skin. Might, confidence and zeal ran rampant within Incarnate ^8001 and then¡­ This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡®I can use that now¡­¡¯ he thought and gritted his teeth. The Demonling cocked back the arm onto which his Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward was strapped¡­ and willed Sundering Bunt to send forth the shield like a murderous project. The cost of the Acquired Skill was paid, and the brass kite shield spun as it carved through the air with a whistle. It became akin to a circular disk wrapped in a radiant, silver edge as it sped, perfectly aimed at its target. Said target couldn¡¯t have expected things to turn out this way. On top of being partly blinded by the collection of light around his foe, he hadn¡¯t been prepared for him (the Incarnate) to launch an attack at all! ¡­And thus¡­the armoured menace¡¯s arm went flying when the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward sawed through his shoulder and nailed itself against the wall a distance behind him, where several, colourful blobs were congregated! ¡®Not yet!¡¯ the Incarnate thought, his eyes flaring. He hadn¡¯t felt like this in a long time. The Demonling had seen countless times in his past life how a loss of balance, however short-lived, could be fatal during battle. His enemy had lost an arm, and despite how freakishly strong he was, in the next second and a half, perhaps more, he could only be prey in Incarnate ^8001¡¯s eyes! The aspiring Tyrant bolted towards the foe. He felt much faster despite not enhancing his attributes. He was at least twice as fast as before. The shrieking of air in his ears told him so. As he charged, he picked up Bash Brain and leaped up before hammering it into his enemy¡¯s head with all his might! Though the toughness of the armoured figure was still incredible, the Incarnate still felt some damage register, though not enough. The fiend grunted. It appeared he had a voice. He staggered, but he hadn¡¯t given up yet. His katana extended and pivoted to stab the Demonling in the head, but it didn¡¯t work. The Incarnate¡¯s icy blue eyes narrowed. He was able to see the movements of the sword clearly, and better yet, his skin sent a pulse through his body that was much more powerful than what he felt before. This pulse allowed the Incarnate to almost perceive the nigh unpredictable path the sword would take. He dodged the sword easily and slammed his mace into the enemy¡¯s head again and again before dodging the katana¡¯s advance once more. The armoured guardian reeled and shook his head. He grunted again¡­ and then took off, hoping to dive behind one of the drapes. The bastard was fast. Very much so. If he succeeded in hiding in the darkness behind the drapes, the Incarnate knew that would reset his rising momentum and allow the enemy to recover. He couldn¡¯t allow it. However fast the enemy was though, this time, he wasn¡¯t like an apparition that flitted in and out of existence to the Incarnate¡¯s sight. His image became a bit clearer ¨C just a little bit ¨C athough the fact that he wasn¡¯t balanced well also contributed. And because of that¡­ ¡°You¡¯re not getting away!¡± The Incarnate hurled his mace at the enemy and it struck him square in the hip a moment before he could disappear into one of the hidden passages. The guardian collapsed on the ground and the Demonling rushed him, wondering how to take him down permanently. If he opted to keep hammering at him, it was only a matter of time before the bastard successfully managed to evade him and dive into the corridors of darkness again. The Incarnate had raised his mace to pound on the armoured fiend who had begun to rise when he realised something. His eyes sparkled. ¡®Of course!¡¯ he thought. He quickly threw his mace away and flung himself on top of the armoured guardian. He then rolled as the enemy hurried to raise his katana for an attack; now the armoured fiend was on top of him. ¡°This should keep you down for good!¡± he said and pushed the unusual warrior into a large, blue blob near him. The armoured figure sank in from head to shoulder and a sizzling noise immediately erupted, bubbles and gases spreading around him rapidly. The blue blobs, as the Incarnate had learned, were acidic. Anything that touched or fed into them would be introduced to this cruel property. When the blobs were small, they weren¡¯t that harmful, but at this size, where they were as large as a man¡­ The Demonling watched as his enemy¡¯s head and neck were dissolved. The armoured figure tried to flail and extricate himself from the situation, but the ordeal ended quicker than his efforts could yield any results. Soon, he turned limp. The Incarnate waited for twenty full seconds to confirm that the bastard was actually dead before sighing in relief and plopping to the ground next to the blob and the corpse. ¡®Finally.¡¯ Finally, the battle was over. The Incarnate was about to take a few moments to appreciate the condition of his body when the tablet pushed its previously unread message in his sight. It insisted that he read it. [Your entirety embodies the notion of greed and ambition. Your flesh desires to devour more than its designated portion of gifts in the world. It desires double, and so does your soul. You seek things beyond what you were afforded in your last life] [You are a rare case where flesh and soul are in mutual agreement] [You, Incarnate ^8001, are a true Hollow Demonling]. Chapter 18: Hermetic Vault I [Your entirety embodies the notion of greed and ambition. Your flesh desires to devour more than its designated portion of gifts in the world. It desires double, and so does your soul. You seek things beyond what you were afforded in your last life] [You are a rare case where flesh and soul are in mutual agreement] [You, Incarnate ^8001, are a true Hollow Demonling]. The Incarnate was taken aback. ¡°What?¡± He couldn¡¯t quite wrap his mind around these words. As he understood it, they came right after he obtained the Hermetic Vault, his first Unique Quality. What exactly did they mean? A true Hollow Demonling? Right then, the collection of the Demonling¡¯s properties appeared in his view. === Name : None (Incarnate ^8001) Privilege : 1 Race : Hollow Demonling --- Far Ji (Unique Quality) : >Hermetic Vault --- STR : 1 AGI : 1 END : 1 --- Spirit Essence : 130/150 --- Kanva (Acquired Skill) : >Sundering Bunt --- SeiJo (Equipment) : >Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward >Bash Brain --- IP : 0 === ¡°Oh, it¡¯s really all here,¡± the Incarnate said, a small smile appearing on his face. No words could fully express his delight at seeing Spirit Essence finally depicted among his attributes. He had 150 units of it, though it was unclear if that was a lot or not. Still, it was great to have this energy that had caused him to curse himself and this bloody place many times during his three-day march (and before that). The Incarnate closed his eyes to properly introduce himself to the energy. He felt it slither through him. It was both hot and cold, as it turned out. How it felt within him seemed to change on a dime. After interacting with it a few times before, the Incarnate had formed an opinion about it which was both vindicated and crushed by the actual truth. But, of course, this wasn¡¯t really important. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. The silvery-blue energy didn¡¯t seem to have some kind of nexus point within his body. In a way, its origin felt distant from his flesh despite him feeling it coursing through his very blood vessels, strange as that intricate level of perception was. What made the Incarnate most excited about having Spirit Essence was the fact that his body was transformed by it permanently. Initially, the Demonling had thought the feeling of abundant strength and the total disregard for pain that suddenly rose as Spirit Essence coursed through him was something similar to a surge of adrenaline ¨C helpful, but fleeting. Fortunately for him, the sensation was here to stay. The Incarnate had been thin and spindly before. His body, while unique, hadn¡¯t shown an aptitude for great physical prowess, at least from a basic, visual appraisal. That wasn¡¯t the case anymore. While the Demonling wasn¡¯t a beefcake, he certainly didn¡¯t look like a regular, malnourished Joe. His body looked like that of a moderately muscular man who ate three, big, healthy meals every day. ¡®Thank goodness. I wasn¡¯t really interested in how I looked before, but I imagine I have some space to get interested in such a luxury now,¡¯ the Incarnate thought as he thoroughly appreciated the contours of his body down to his perkier buttocks. Interestingly enough though¡­ ¡®My attributes haven¡¯t changed even though I feel stronger. No, I¡¯m definitely much stronger. I imagine that only Incarnation Points converted to physical attributes can count.¡¯ After a few moments of thought, the Incarnate speculated that perhaps whatever units in Strength, Agility, and Endurance he earned from now would simply add to his evolved physique, which was a great boon. His base had improved, which meant subsequent augments to his physique would be much more helpful than if his base had remained the same. Beyond sheer power, the Incarnate was also pleased to feel that his skin, which had been a major contributor to his continued life subscription, seemed to have evolved. When he had dodged the katana a minute ago, he felt as though his skin was doing much more than warning him like before. It was acting as a catalyst for sharp movements in his body. It almost felt like he was predicting the path of danger, in a way. ¡®That is going to be extremely useful. If I can increase my agility on top of this, I¡¯ll at least ensure my survival against stronger opponents instead of relying on chance,¡¯ the Demonling thought with a sigh. All this aside, there was one more boon he had to thoroughly analyze: his newly acquired Far Ji. === [Hermetic Vault | Grade Legendary] Allows the user to store and retrieve anything ¨C any entity and the forces applied on them ¨C within a two-meter radius, in a special, sealed chamber. - Definitions: 1.[Unassigned] 2.[Unassigned]. 3.[Unassigned]. 4.[Unassigned]. - Limits: >Only a maximum of five things can be added to the vault per day. >Only a maximum of three things can be retrieved from the vault at a time. === The Incarnate tilted his head. ¡®¡­What?¡¯ He didn¡¯t understand most of what was depicted on the tablet, save for the short description of what the Hermetic Vault actually was. And speaking of this description, the Incarnate found his emotions teetering between underwhelmed and intrigued. ¡®A vault? Like a storage space?¡¯ he wondered. His still-new-to-the-supernatural brain took a moment to cough up a thought that ultimately made him appreciate what his Far Ji was. ¡®Wait! Is this like a storage space that no one else can see? It¡¯s not like a place I will have to rent or something, is it?¡¯ the Incarnate thought. After several more seconds of thought, he got even more excited. It seemed this Hermetic Vault truly was a mystical place where he could put all his things without worrying about carrying them or keeping track of where he left them. This was the only conclusion that made sense for a Unique Quality designated as Legendary! But just as the Incarnate rose and rushed towards Bash Brain and the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward to try this out, he stopped. ¡°Wait, doesn¡¯t it require Spirit Essence to do this?¡± he thought, beginning to dread that perhaps this new ability might be useless to him for now. And when he thought of Spirit Essence, the Incarnate immediately thought of the vast pool of it before which had been lighting up the room grandly. Now, it was a little dim. The corpse on the ceiling remained and so did the collection of octagons that blazed with essence behind it. However, only two of them remained now, and they issued a dull light instead of the bombastic radiance from before. ¡®When I was covered by that Essence earlier¡­?¡¯ the Incarnate thought, remembering the flavors of pain he had felt then. He remembered that there had been searing pain on his back. Somewhere during the course of his round two against the armored figure, the pain had faded, but¡­ The Incarnate reached for his back as best as he could and he felt something branded onto it. ¡®What is this?¡¯ he thought with a frown. He felt grooves on his skin. Sharp grooves. It was as if someone had carved him up, creating some kind of symbol. Right then, the golden tablet appeared in his vision, but it didn¡¯t answer his current inquiry. [There are a few major distinctions between Far Ji (Unique Qualities), and Kanva (Acquired Abilities] [The first is that while an unlimited number of Kanva can be cultivated by a single individual, only a single Far Ji is allowed per combatant] [The second is that while Kanva require Spirit Essence as a cost, Far Ji do not. Far Ji have restrictions on their usage known as Limits. That is the cost of using them, defining them as one pleases¡­] Chapter 19: Hermetic Vault II ¡®Really?¡¯ the Incarnate thought. He blinked twice while continuing to fondle his back, tracing the grooves in his flesh. ¡®So Unique Qualities don¡¯t have any cost for Spirit Essence at all, ey?¡¯ The thought really made the Incarnate happy. He hadn¡¯t been expecting that. It was understandable that he hadn¡¯t, actually. Thankfully, the glowing tablet was finally helping him put the pieces together. ¡®The difference between these two things¡­ I suppose it makes sense. But I can only learn one Far Ji?¡¯ The Incarnate felt his spirits slump a bit. His aching muscles also seemed to grow a little more painful. According to the tablet, while one could obtain an unlimited number of Acquired Abilities, only one Unique Quality was allowed per individual. The term ¡®allowed¡¯ which was emphasized for some reason did make the Demonling suspicious, but he didn¡¯t think there was much to unravel from it. These were the rules, apparently. A part of the Incarnate wished all this information had been made known to him before he picked the first Far Ji he had seen if it was going to be the last he could acquire, but he quickly threw the thought away. ¡®Taking into account how bizarre and terrifying this place can get, I don¡¯t think I could have passed on this even if I knew. Besides, from what it looks like, Far Ji aren¡¯t easy to find, unlike Kanva. I can learn Kanva from any competent enemy, but I don¡¯t think there¡¯s going to be an abundance of secret rooms like this in the future,¡¯ he thought. The Incarnate squinted as he read through the text again. ¡®Hmm. So instead of a cost of Spirit Essence, Far Ji have limits to how you use them. Let¡¯s see. The Hermetic Vault has two of these Limits.¡¯ The first Limit was that only five items could be added to the vault per day. After a few seconds of thought, the Incarnate came to a conclusion on this. ¡®Yes, that¡¯s an annoying Limit.¡¯ This restriction was going to force him to be very careful about what items he put into the vault everyday. The Hermetic Vault was an invisible and unreachable space where he could store his items without having to worry about their weight or quantity. If there was a restriction on how much he could add per day, it was only natural to think that there would be times in the future when there were many appealing treasures and tools in sight, but he would have to leave the majority behind. The Incarnate winced at the thought. The second Limit restricted the Incarnate to only having a maximum of three items out of the vault at a time. This posed a similar challenge to the first Limit, though, for now, the Incarnate thought it wasn¡¯t all that bad. He didn¡¯t have that much stuff to carry. Besides, it didn¡¯t seem like he couldn¡¯t switch between items that he really needed at the moment and those that he did. The Demonling hummed in thought and then walked towards the wall where the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward was pinned. It had sunk in deep after he hurled it at the armored guard with Sundering Bunt. He pulled it out and sighed. ¡®Let¡¯s see. How do I do this?¡¯ You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. The moment the Incarnate thought about interacting with the Hermetic Vault, he felt the skin on his back pulse, and everything in his sight changed. He was no longer in the oval room. Well, he was, but it felt like a part of him had been extricated from it and brought here; he seemed to exist in two parts at the moment. As for where ¡®here¡¯ was, it was a cubical room that was a lot smaller than the Incarnate had thought it would be. It was roughly 1,000 cubic meters in size, even in every dimension ¨C naturally. ¡®Well, for a place that doesn¡¯t exist, in a way, it¡¯s pretty big I suppose¡­¡¯ the Incarnate reevaluated. The space didn¡¯t exactly look special. It was made of a kind of silver metal engraved with a familiar symbol. It was the same one that had been oozing Spirit Essence behind the atrophied corpse, albeit a little different. Instead of seven stylized octagons feeding into each other, there were only five, and across them was what looked like a minimalistic design of a lateral, black tree trunk, but with both ends sprouting long roots. The Incarnate immediately felt for the symbol on his back. ¡®It¡¯s the same¡­¡¯ he thought. Curious. So, the symbol was to represent the Hermetic Vault. With a shift in his will, the Incarnate found himself back in the ovular room. He then looked at the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward. It vanished in the next moment, and the Demonling felt it settle in the Vault. He then willed it to come out and it appeared in his hand again, just like before. ¡®Hmm?¡¯ The Incarnate inspected the shield. It hadn¡¯t changed, except for the fact that it seemed to now have a faint film of energy around it that he only managed to perceive through his skin. It was different from Spirit Essence. He pondered over this for a few moments. ¡®Oh, I see. If there is a Limit on things I add to the vault per day, then that must mean the vault has items it considers old and those it considers new. Since I already added the shield, it won¡¯t be counted when I choose to store it in the vault again,¡¯ the Demonling thought. The Incarnate wanted to add all his weapons to the vault immediately, but he decided against it for now. First, he wanted to learn all he could about the Vault through the tablet¡¯s text. ¡®There¡¯s the Definitions. I remember the tablet mentioned this when it explained how Incarnation Points are used.¡¯ Just as he thought about it, the tablet added on: [Definitions are extensions of a Far Ji¡¯s capabilities decided by the user] [Unlike Kanva, Far Ji can be improved. By expending Incarnation Points, a user can broaden what their Far Ji can do, but only within the bounds of its Limits, its name, and original description] The Incarnate narrowed his eyes. Broadening what a Far Ji can do? ¡®Interesting. But how can I expand the capabilities of something like a storage vault? Does that mean I can increase its size or something like that?¡¯ Incarnate ^8001 thought. That sounded good, but it also made the Incarnate start to feel sour about only having one Far Ji, and one that wasn¡¯t really good for combat, as he judged. The tablet continued. [The number of Definitions possible increase with the grade of the Far Ji. Rare Far Ji only have 2; Legendary Far Ji have 4; Divine Far Ji have 8] [The cost of adding Definitions with Incarnation Points starts with half the cost for the acquisition of the Far Ji in question. Rare Far Ji cost 5 Incarnation Points to acquire, and thus their first Definition costs 2 Incarnation Points, with the next costing double the amount; Legendary Far Ji cost 10 Incarnation Points to acquire, and thus their first Definition costs 5 Incarnation Points, with the next ones costing double the price of the last; Divine Far Ji cost 20 Incarnation Points to acquire, and thus their first Definition costs 10 Incarnation Points, with the next ones costing double the price of the last] The Incarnate frowned and rubbed his temples. He knew the tablet was starting to give information when it was most relevant, but this was too much at once. It took him two minutes to finally feel like he understood everything. He wasn¡¯t afforded any more babying. ¡®I guess it isn¡¯t all that difficult to understand. Hermetic Vault cost me 10 Incarnation Points. If I want to add the first Definition, it will cost me half that. The second will cost 10, the next 20, and the last¡­40 Points¡­¡¯ he thought uncomfortably. ¡®Divine Far Ji are even worse. I can¡¯t tell if I should be happy about this or not.¡¯ The Incarnate wondered if getting more than 10 Incarnation Points at a time was possible. ¡®I don¡¯t think I should think too deeply about this right now. I¡¯ll think about it when I feel I really need to.¡¯ The Incarnate cast aside the more complex details about Far Ji and instead focused on the corpse of the armored figure. Its head was gone at this point, and its body was prostrating before the large blue blob. The Demonling went over to it and grabbed the katana in its hand. He might not have learned an Acquired Ability from this enemy, but he still won a prize. Chapter 20: Stock Up The Incarnate spent the next few hours revising everything he knew about his Unique Quality. He had thought he would have a difficult time because of his injuries, but his Demonling body infused with Spirit Essence allowed him to do this comfortably. His flesh clamped down on itself, covering the tears in his muscles. The Incarnate had even though he was slowly healing, but he decided to wait a little longer before concluding that that was the case. When testing more about his Hermetic Vault, he found that this power had a lot of ins and outs (pun intended) that could be extremely useful, and most of them stemmed from its description, which read: ¡®Allows the user to store and retrieve anything ¨C any entity and the forces applied on them ¨C within a two-meter radius, in a special, sealed chamber.¡¯ Apparently, the Incarnate didn¡¯t need to touch something for it to be added to the vault. As long as it was within a two-meter radius of him, he could will it to be transported into his invisible storage space. The Incarnate, after thinking things through, had decided to add everything he had so far into the vault. After he did so, they were ¡®marked¡¯ as old entries, which meant they wouldn¡¯t be counted by the first Limit of the Hermetic Vault anymore. Something else of note about the Hermetic Vault was that when it stored an item he willed it to, said item retained everything affecting and acting upon it at that moment it was stored. When it was summoned outside the Vault, it would still carry these same factors around it. To draw all the clarity he could, the Incarnate had conduct a test. As he had stored three items into his vault ¨C Bash Brain, the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward and the katana ¨C he had two slots left for the day according to his Limit, and he used one to experiment. He grabbed a rock, threw it in the air, and stored it in his vault before it got out of range. When he summoned it again, the rock shot out with the same velocity it had prior to being stored. What¡¯s more, even though the rock had been ascending when he stored it, when expelling it from the Vault, the Incarnate found that he could change the direction the rock shuttled out; he could adjust where it appeared from around the two-meter range of his Hermetic Vault. This was incredibly mind-boggling. The Demonling began to think about how he could have used this property of the Vault to his advantage in his previous life. If he stored enough items with high velocity, arrows, for instance, he would have been a deadly soldier on the front lines. No, that was too shallow of a thought! He wouldn¡¯t have needed to be in the army to begin with! This wouldn¡¯t make him invincible, of course, mainly because of the five-item Limit and the need for preparation time, but it would certainly make him hard to kill. ¡®To think I assumed the Hermetic Vault was only good for storing things,¡¯ the Incarnate had chastised himself for such ignorance. These two discoveries really had him thinking that perhaps he could have interesting ways to augment his Far Ji through Definitions after all. This was only possible because the Incarnate was who he was, though. As a man who had lived through treacherous horrors on the crowded, bloody frontlines of great battles and vicious conditions that almost seemed to be designed to make sure he perished, the Incarnate had developed a habit of thoroughly ensuring that he understood where he was and what was at his disposal. What many failed to realize in trying times, was that a deep breath, a little scrutiny, and introspection helped in finding hidden solutions. The Incarnate had become a master of this little trick. It only failed him when he grew too comfortable in the army camp that night he died. Speaking of being aware of what one had, the Incarnate was pleased with the newest addition to his offensive arsenal. === [Fickle Viper | Grade Potent] +4 AGI - The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Enchantment I: Extends the length of the blade to a maximum of 100 meters, and allows it to distort as the user wishes - Enchantment II (Damaged): Enhances the sharpness of the blade¡¯s edge significantly === The katana that the armored figure had wielded gave the Incarnate a boost in confidence. It was a beautiful, albeit rusted, cerulean blade that refused to completely give up its shine. The guard and hilt were all black with slivers of twisting silver, likely giving hints about the sword¡¯s abilities. The Incarnate had seen and felt the Fickle Viper¡¯s abilities firsthand, so he wasn¡¯t really surprised by its enchantments. Well, one of them. It staggered him that the katana actually had another enchantment which was ¡®damaged¡¯. This enchantment was supposed to make the blade extra sharp. ¡®If this enchantment was still in play¡­¡¯ the Incarnate had thought with dread. He didn¡¯t know if the outcome of his fight would have changed, but he did think it would have been a lot more painful to go against the katana. Thankfully, it was now in his hands, its enchantments and the four points it granted to his agility all for him to abuse. Admittedly, this didn¡¯t mean the katana was easy to control. Making it bend and extend required a lot of focus, not to mention creativity. The Incarnate felt he had much of both to go around and he spent a little time getting familiar with the sword. After this, the Incarnate made a decision he thought was for the best. He decided to wait for two days in the ovular room. As he had expended the valuable slots for new additions to the Hermetic Vault, he decided to wait until he could add more items, ¡®things¡¯, as the tablet described. The Incarnate had other items he wanted to add to the vault before he left: the blobs. Their abilities were invaluable, as far as the Incarnate was concerned, especially when they were bulked up like this because of the abundant Spirit Essence. How the blue blob had melted his foe had clearly demonstrated this fact. Thus, the Incarnate stored ten blobs over two days. Two blue ones, acidic types; four red ones, resistant types, and four pink ones, mimic types. The red ones had a powerful buoyance, even when they were tiny. The Incarnate found that the larger ones didn¡¯t even budge when he struck them with Bash Brain. It went without saying that the Fickle Viper was unable to do them any damage either. The pink ones were capable of mimicking whatever touched them, and this property didn¡¯t change with size. It just created a larger copy of the sample. The Incarnate had nearly dropped on his butt when he saw a perfect copy of himself ¨C tunic and all ¨C mould itself from the blob. It didn¡¯t move, only assuming the stance he had when he touched it, but still¡­ The Demonling wasn¡¯t sure how exactly he was going to use the blobs, but for now, he was glad he had them. He would figure out the rest later. ¡°Alright. Time to go,¡± the Demonling said. After two days, he was ready to move on. To his disappointment, he confirmed that his body didn¡¯t heal. It only limited the extent of his wounds, preventing them from worsening in a short period. Sooner or later, the Demonling had to find a way to heal himself. ¡®It¡¯s still great that I can pretend that I¡¯m in one piece though,¡¯ he thought with a smile. The only thing he had on him was the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward. Everything else was sealed in the Vault. The Incarnate looked up at the woman illuminated lightly by the Spirit Essence from the two remaining octagons behind her on the raised ceiling. He never discovered what the story was with this woman. Her presence wasn¡¯t really significant. Or so the Incarnate thought. The Demonling looked at the large boulder that had sealed the way he had come in two days ago. Even with the newfound strength he had earned through Spirit Essence, the Incarnate wasn¡¯t confident he could push it aside. He didn¡¯t need to, however. During the last two days, he had surveyed the pathways behind the seven drapes. All of them were a collection of sloping stairs and dead-ends, except for one. There was a path that went further down, but the Incarnate hadn¡¯t checked it out all the way. He sighed. ¡®Here we go.¡¯ He made the trip down the dark space behind the drape. After a while, the light from the oval room disappeared, leaving him blinded. The only hint of light he could see came from the blobs which grew smaller and smaller on the floor as he descended. After a little more than fifteen minutes, the Incarnate found that the slope fed into another slope of stairs perpendicular to it, on its right a hard wall. ¡®Wait¡­ Is this?¡¯ he thought. As he looked to where the new pathway was coming and couldn¡¯t help but wonder if he was back on the main path from five days ago. It had eventually turned into a slope of stairs, didn¡¯t it? The Incarnate hoped he was right. No, he was convinced he was right. Sadly, whether or not he was correct didn¡¯t stop him from having to endure another stretch of trekking. The only saving grace was that he felt invigorated, still wasn¡¯t hungry, and didn¡¯t even feel the need for sleep. Five hours later, the path became straight, and the Demonling found a gaping opening at the end of the cave-like path he was on. A light, dusty breeze blew on his face, casting small particles of soil in his eyes. The Incarnate didn¡¯t approach immediately. Despite how he was dying to be embraced by the world outside, he remained cautious. He slowly drew into the beckoning maw of the exit and took a deep breath. The world expanded before him. It was rich. It was dark. It was diverse. Before he could appreciate it all, however¡­ [You have successfully defeated the sons of Marar¡¯bel and reached the Ainfidd Kingdom] [Your actions are being judged¡­] [You have been awarded 8 Incarnations Points for a splendid performance!] Chapter 21: Record I [You have successfully defeated the sons of Marar¡¯bel and reached the Ainfidd Kingdom] [Your actions are being judged¡­] [You have been awarded 8 Incarnations Points for a splendid performance!] ¡°What?¡± the Incarnate was stunned. However, in the name of caution, he quickly cast aside his curiosity and surveyed his surroundings. Getting distracted while in unfamiliar territory was a sure way to die a pathetic death in his experience. To his surprise, he was standing around five meters away from a great slope that spotted both large, rough rocks and small bits of greenery like bushes and shrubs. All this was a little hard to see as the darkness of night was prevalent, making the Incarnate wonder if there was even a daytime in this place defined by daylight at all. It was starting to seem unlikely. The Incarnate had counted the days earlier by using the mechanics of the Hermetic Vault. When a new day began, he was able to add another five items into it. The Demonling looked behind him. ¡®This¡­ is bizarre,¡¯ he thought. The exit he had emerged from was carved through a thick block of dark stone so high that he had to bend backwards to see the end of it. Well, the Incarnate wasn¡¯t sure he even saw its end, really, as it seemed to desire to meet the clouds. The wall of rock spread far and wide, seemingly having no end to it, whichever way it imposed its vastness. At once, the Incarnate deduced that this was the same rock which been splitting through the millions of skeletons around the Omen ¨C the statue. It was also the same which grew weathered and formed the crevice he had traversed through five days ago. How it suddenly became so large here baffled the Incarnate. ¡®This shouldn¡¯t really be a concern of mine right now,¡¯ he thought and walked a few meters towards where the ground started to slope. He looked down, and an ominous scene greeted him. Far, far down, where the vegetation started to become more vibrant and denser, an expansive shroud of darkness hid everything up to where a hopeful horizon should have been in the distance; it was a darkness far more potent than that of the night. It was not static. It squirmed and twisted like dark smoke, making it seem as though terrible monstrosities were moving within it, attempting to find where its influence was weakest so they could escape. The Demonling took a step back and plopped to the ground. He was unnerved and horrified. ¡®What is that?¡¯ he thought, gulping down a mouthful of saliva. The scale of the unusual, shifting mass of black in front of him was daunting. The area covered by the darkness could easily qualify to be a small country in size, or perhaps larger if the Incarnate could tell how far it spread. To add to the eerie nature of what was ahead, there was something else in close view. Granted, it was not quite as frightening as the well of darkness, but it did cause the Demonling¡¯s soul to tremble. Sprinkled among the rocks and trees, were dozens of skeletons adorned in old tunics! Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. The Incarnate frowned. ¡®Here as well?¡¯ He had seen a scene similar to this when he had been chased by the dogs in the crevice. More Incarnates like him who had perished here. ¡®I imagined this was how it goes. There are stages to this Floor or maybe every other Floor. A fixed number of stages,¡¯ the Incarnate thought as he stood, siphoning his resolve. There was no better evidence of this than the message the glowing tablet had just shown him. Once again, the Incarnate was awarded Incarnation Points for passing another trial. The first had been to escape the Fifth Omen of the Amalgam Sand Fiend. The second ¨C the current one ¨C had been to defeat the sons of Marar¡¯bel and reach the Ainfidd Kingdom. The Incarnate didn¡¯t know who Marar¡¯bel was ¨C though he was starting to get an idea ¨C but he definitely knew to pin Tenyen and the other armored, expired figure he fought as her sons. As for the Ainfidd Kingdom¡­ The Demonling looked ahead at the darkness. Could that be¡­ Quickly, the Incarnate cast aside the thought. He dreaded that it might be true, and that it might be his next destination. Instead, he focused on the amount of Incarnation Points he was awarded with. This time, he only received eight. ¡®I¡¯m starting to think I can probably only earn up to 10 Incarnation Points at a time. My performance this time was somehow lacking. Last time, it was outstanding and now it''s¡­ splendid,¡¯ the Incarnate thought. ¡®What did I do wrong? He thought he deserved ten again this time, given what he had gone through. He could still feel the sting from that tribulation in his flesh ¨C the stabbing and all. Had he lost points because he only managed to defeat the guard from that oval room after scheming to acquire the Hermetic Vault first? Or was he perhaps supposed to do something with the corpse of the woman hanging from the ceiling? The Incarnate suspected that she was Marar¡¯bel whom the tablet was speaking of, which meant she was significant in some way, but he couldn¡¯t be too sure. In any case¡­ ¡®I think I might need to use these Incarnation Points to increase my physical attributes now,¡¯ he thought before glancing at the darkness. ¡®I might need that now more than ever.¡¯ A few minutes passed. The Incarnate started pacing about, thinking deeply about how he should distribute his points. He made sure to explore either path the wall of rock extended towards while doing so, just in case there was something useful around. As half of the Incarnate¡¯s mind had been anticipating, he found nothing. He did figure out a way to best apportion his attributes, though. Just when he was about to do it, the Incarnate stopped hastily. He noticed something peeking from behind one of the large rocks close to the great slope. The sound the thing made also drew his attention. It rustled crisply in the wind but was not prompted to fly away with it. Something behind the rock was keeping it in place. The Incarnate narrowed his eyes and drew close. ¡®What¡¯s that? Paper?¡¯ He slowed his approach, putting his Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward before him. Soon, the Demonling found himself facing another one of the skeletons. There was nothing special about it, save for the partly unfurled roll of yellow parchment held tightly in its bony hand. ¡®What is this doing here?¡± the Incarnate thought. He hadn¡¯t thought he¡¯d find something like paper here. Because of that, he grew suspicious. This roll of parchment must have some importance then. The Incarnate quickly retrieved the parchment from the skeleton and drew back. After thoroughly ensuring he hadn¡¯t missed anything else that could be important around the skeleton, he went back to the wall of rock and sat down. He unfurled the paper and looked at the segmented paragraphs of writing ¨C some orderly and some not ¨C scribbled on it. The person who wrote this had varying degrees of agency when writing each of the paragraphs, it seemed. The last even looked unfinished, with the dry ink failing to finish the last words they had meant to write. It instead swiped across the edge of the parchment messily. The Incarnate took a deep breath. ¡®Let¡¯s see¡­¡¯ he thought and began to read. Given the liberties the glowing tablet had given so far, he knew he would be able to read the unfamiliar language presented before him. The writing on the parchment read: ¡®Our victory against the Feraanites has everyone in quite the high spirits. I expect nothing less. It¡¯s been three days and yet the celebrations in the streets of our nation do not cease. His Majesty has decided to let the people enjoy themselves. This is, after all, the greatest victory our nation has ever experienced since the Rikanja Ambush. Our warriors deserve the showers of praise and all the women they can bed. In light of all this, why is it that I feel so uneasy? As though this is the last gift the gods will ever give to Ainfidd?¡¯ ¡­ Chapter 22: Record II The writing continued: ¡®The celebrations are over. It¡¯s now time for the King and Queen to decide what to do with the captives and the spoils. I only hope we don¡¯t turn barbaric and torture these people for sport. Unlike those bastards, the Rikanja, who dared invade our nation to try and assassinate the royal family, we took the Feraanites head on, with pride. I believe we should be less inclined to butcher them as though they were pigs.¡¯ Another paragraph began: * ¡®Oh, gods! How can the King¡¯s Council, men chosen to advise His Majesty, to give equal measures of morality and strategy suggest that we attack the vile Baniale`. It¡¯s only been two weeks since we brought Feraan under our banner. Thankfully, Alabas sees reason. I maintain that he is a wise king. He too is against this idea, but I think he may fold given how much pressure the council is piling on each day. What has gotten into them? Am I the only one among my peers to remain rational?¡¯ Another: * ¡®I think I might be closing in on something terribly distasteful. It¡¯s been three months since I started investigating each of the councilmen. They seem to be advancing the ideals of another. As to who this could be? I have no idea. Instead of alerting Alabas and Marar¡¯bel without firm evidence, I think it¡¯s best to employ Maestus to help me in secret instead. I expect his loyalty to Alabas is all I can count on now. Together we will uncover the truth about this conspiracy.¡± * ¡®I don¡¯t know what to think. We are going to attack the Baniale` in a few weeks. The King finally folded. Whoever the councilmen have backing them is truly formidable. I fear to imagine who it is. They have covered their tracks well. It¡¯s a great feat to hide such a terribly vast ambition. Hopefully, the leads Maestus is following are credible. He has to hurry. Soon, he will be unable to help me. He has a tremendous burden. Forging updated suits of armor and weapons with his Far Ji for the upcoming war will keep him from moving freely soon.¡¯ * ¡®I never could have imagined. The one who was so desperate to devour more of this continent was Queen Marar¡¯bel. I should have known. Alabas should never have been allowed to marry a woman from a foreign nation. Now look at what is happening. Oh, may the gods save this nation. This tears me up as much as it does Maestus. I am clueless as to how he even found this out. What shall we do? Will the King even believe us if we told him? Would he even consider it a challenge to his authority, as we do? He is smitten by that snake!¡¯ * ¡®A year has passed and we have finally prevailed against the Baniale`, but I cannot shake the dark feeling in my soul. The Baniale` are heretics, some of them wielders of unknown power beyond Kanva and Far Ji. For our own sakes, Maestus and I have decided to stop meeting in private. It¡¯s grown too risky. I think Marar¡¯bel may be suspicious of us.¡¯ * ¡®Oh, dear gods. How can Alabas stand for this? How did he even let this happen? Marar¡¯bel has announced herself a Sorceress. She claims to have learned powers beyond anyone¡¯s wildest dreams. I swear, she must have secretly looted the unholy scripts and grimoires of the Baniale` after their defeat. She must have studied them all year long. To think she even dared make a demonstration before the council. My heart tightened when she summoned serpents from the floor and turned locks of hair into bands of gold. Can no one else tell how horribly wrong this is? Alabas is accepting of this. I can¡¯t believe he merely nodded when Marar¡¯bel swore that this power would only be used for the benefit of the kingdom. I need to speak with Maestus. We might need to speak to Alabas about the Queen¡¯s plots behind his back. Maybe then he will think properly.¡¯ You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. * ¡®I¡¯m on my own. Maestus refuses to speak to me. Something is wrong. I find him, Tenyen, and Kadyas with the Queen a lot more often these days. I don¡¯t like it. Not only is Marar¡¯bel growing stronger, but she is earning more favour. I can¡¯t help but think Maestus may have been threatened, or worse¡­¡¯ * ¡®Alabas is finally standing his ground. He and Marar¡¯bel have been openly disputing for the last few weeks. The Queen has been facilitating more strange activities behind Alabas¡¯ back. I¡¯ve heard rumours that she has been kidnapping hundreds of people from our colonies for some unknown ritualistic practice. I can only hope it is not true. Alabas is probably torn between whether these are false accusations or not as well. I only wish I had been the one to tell him about Marar¡¯bel¡¯s agendas before things got to this point.¡¯ * ¡®Today, Marar¡¯bel gathered all the councilmen and told us about her plan. I had the feeling that despite knowing that I was never on her side, she knew I had no choice but to come. I have grown to be terrified of her growing influence. What can I do to resist? How could I fight against the Sorceress? Apparently, one of the records she found among the Baniale` details an incantation and spell that can be used to call upon a phantasmic deity who can grant the wishes of anyone who tears it away from its hidden place. Marar¡¯bel promised all of us our hearts'' wildest desires if we help her do one simple thing: to keep Alabas in the dark about this. I don¡¯t think I have a choice. What frightens me most is that Marar¡¯bel has garnered many believers among our colonies and Alabas has no idea that she has taken over everything with the sole exception of Ainfidd. Dear gods. Where does this all lead?¡¯ * ¡®Last night, a tragedy beyond what I dreaded happened. I never would have thought Marar¡¯bel was brave enough to fight Alabas. Even with her sorcery, she has no name and was a fool to contend against Alabas, the man they call Flying Reaper Sword. She was far from being his equal. Alabas found out his Queen¡¯s vile machinations. I don¡¯t know from whom. I had thought it was Maestus, but I was astonished to find that he stood with Marar¡¯bel, Tenyen, and Kadyas against Alabas. They were all defeated. I saw it and I rejoiced! Alabas did not want to kill them. He spared them, as one would their wife, sons, and most loyal Knight. That turned out to be a big mistake. I have no idea how Marar¡¯bel did it. I have no idea how sorcery works. Perhaps it was a charm or a forbidden spell. Ainfidd is now buried in darkness. Marar¡¯bel proudly declared that this darkness will keep Alabas in Ainfidd along with all its citizens as long as she gathers enough Spirit Essence to maintain its integrity. This way, Alabas won¡¯t stop her from accomplishing her goal. It is with great shame that I admit that only those who committed themselves to Marar¡¯bel could leave Ainfidd in that darkness. I had no choice. I have joined Marar¡¯bel with the rest of the councilmen. I feel worse than Tenyen¡¯s dogs. Even they follow their master out of loyalty to him. I have denounced the King. I have failed him. I can¡¯t go back now. He will never receive me. All I can do is accompany Marar¡¯bel as she convenes with the lords and ladies from the colonies who swore their loyalty to her. She will begin the ritual she desires someplace north of Ainfidd.¡¯ * ¡®In the end, it was all just an exchange. It is all her fault! She summoned this demon and allowed it to butter her with its promises. It raised a whole kingdom from sand and we all rejoiced and whooped like fools! I had begun to think we could create a kingdom far greater than the one Alabas had made with the power of this blasphemous creature. Millions had moved to settle here from the colonies, and for a while, I thought we were becoming one ¨C one prosperous nation. But it was all a lie. I¡¯ve tried to hide and cover my eyes, but I think I will succumb soon. The urge to look at that¡­ thing is too great. Everyone is showering it with praise. Some kiss its figure. Some even lick it. I hear them. They have all lost it. Damn you, Marar¡¯bel! Where are you now? You fled at the first sign of trouble with your sons and trapped us all with this demon. I curse you. I curse you and whatever nation begot a witch like you. I curse Alabas as well who accepted you. I curse myself who was too weak to deny this evil that¡­.¡¯ And the ink spilled, ending the message. Chapter 23: Contemplation ¡°¡­¡± The Incarnate was left stumped by all this information. It both eased the bloated, heavy bag of questions he had and made it heavier; his curiosity swelled. So much could be gleamed from this record, this diary. The first thing the Incarnate had latched onto was Marar¡¯bel¡¯s identity. Marar¡¯bel was the Queen of the Ainfidd Kingdom and her husband was King Alabas, the man whose name this Floor identified. All of a sudden, the Incarnate felt that the name ¡®Ruins of the Deserted King Alabas¡¯ made much more sense. It seemed that the Ainfidd Kingdom was a stalwart nation with a mighty force and a mighty King, one who had tasted many victories against great foes. Yet, it fell because of this woman, Marar¡¯bel, and her influence. She had harboured her own goals and ideals, but knowing that she couldn¡¯t expose them to the King, she instead puppeteered the King¡¯s Councilmen to steer his decisions. To push forth her own agenda. What stood out particularly to the Demonling, was the fact that Marar¡¯bel was apparently a woman Alabas brought in from a foreign nation. The man who narrated his thoughts on the parchment, the councilman, seemed to think that this fact had been a bad omen from the start, and from the looks of it, he was right. This ordinary woman had worked her way up the ladder, becoming Queen and then becoming a Sorceress. The latter was another thing the Incarnate deeply wondered about. ¡®A Sorceress¡­ A witch? I wonder what that kind of power is exactly?¡¯ Incarnate ^8001 had been rather curious about the portion of this record that said, ¡®Marar¡¯bel has announced herself a Sorceress.¡¯ In his mind, this could be likened to the myths about dark magic which he had heard in his past life: dark rituals to connect to supernatural entities that harboured nothing but dooming intentions, all usually involving heretical activity. The Incarnate had slaughtered his fair share of such devoted heathens. What was presented before him, however, was the idea that in this world, these heathens weren¡¯t defenceless, delusional fools who were easy to cut down. ¡®I imagine that Marar¡¯bel had always been curious about these Baniale` people. She must have wanted to learn their ways for a long time and used the recent victory the Ainfidd Kingdom had achieved and everyone¡¯s high spirits to spur them into attacking and looting those people,¡¯ the Demonling thought. The Baniale`. The author said that these people were already popular for their mysterious and unusual powers so Marar¡¯bel might have known about them before she even became Alabas¡¯ wife. How cunning. Speaking of the author¡­ ¡°Maybe this is too far-fetched, but could this roll of parchment belong to that¡­ man?¡± the Incarnate said as he looked up at the sky. As he was faced with the Omen days ago, he had seen skeletons clad in armour and one that was wrapped in a tattered blue robe with an old quill pen in its hand. The robe had suggested something to do with wealth and nobility to the Incarnate back then, and now that he thought about it, could that skeleton have been the councilman responsible for this record? Whether this was correct or not didn¡¯t really matter. The Incarnate had just been creeped out, especially with how the tale told on the parchment seemed to end with the councilman succumbing to the evil that Marar¡¯bel had summoned with her powers. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡®The Omen,¡¯ the Demonling thought with a hard face. The Fifth Omen of the Amalgam Sand Fiend was the ¡®phantasmic deity¡¯ that Marar¡¯bel thought would emerge and grant her wishes. This had been her goal. What the Incarnate saw with his own eyes in the last few days expressed more about how misguided and foolish Marar¡¯bel¡¯s goal had been than the councilman¡¯s written words. Just like he had experienced, the Omen seemed to be able ensnare people who looked at it. The consequence seemed to be that those who succumbed would be forced to worship the darn thing, sinking into disgusting obsession. Just thinking that he might have been caught up in that, made the Demonling shiver furiously. But then again, not all of that was fear. A part of it was anger. ¡®That woman used her powers to turn the King¡¯s own sons and his right-hand man against him just for this to happen. They all died meaninglessly and she escaped,¡± Incarnate ^8001 thought with a scowl. ¡°It¡¯s even more tragic now that I understand a bit more about Unique Qualities.¡¯ The aspiring Tyrant squeezed the parchment in his hand, which appeared to be a lot more durable than it looked. In all his rage, his sentiments poured more towards Maestus. He could never forget that lone skeleton which gave him a chance to escape through the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward. As he read, Maestus was not only the King¡¯s most trusted Knight, he was the one who produced potent armour and weapons for the army. He did this using his Far Ji, which apparently was strong enough to arm a whole kingdom¡¯s militia. The Incarnate sighed. Now those words he had heard from Maestus¡¯ bones before he used his Far Ji to give him the shield hit a lot harder: ¡°Thank you for mourning us, however little, for our foolishness...¡± While the councilman seemed to believe that Maestus was under Marar¡¯bel¡¯s control the entire time, the Incarnate couldn¡¯t dismiss the fact that perhaps Maestus had joined the Queen of his own free will. That did not detract much from how thankful he (the Incarnate) was to the lost soul, however. ¡®Then again, perhaps it wasn¡¯t that hard for him to use his Far Ji to conjure a shield for me since it doesn¡¯t require Spirit Essence to activate¡­ or flesh, apparently.¡¯ The Incarnate sighed. Asides from Maestus, there was Tenyen and Kadyas, Alabas¡¯ sons. He didn¡¯t feel for them as much as Maestus, whom he could somewhat relate to on multiple different levels, but he did wonder just why Marar¡¯bel kept them in the state they were in. The Incarnate couldn¡¯t call those walking, decaying corpses living beings. He saw it rather vividly with Tenyen¡¯s dogs. He had no doubt that Marar¡¯bel used some kind of Sorcery to keep them ¡®alive¡¯ after managing to escape the Omen, yet she didn¡¯t seem to be under the same spell. Her body plastered onto that ceiling looked well and truly dead, even if her powers remained active. And where those powers were concerned, the Incarnate had pieced a lot together from what he had just read. He had learned more about the Hermetic Vault and that flood of Spirit Essence which had been pouring from the octagonal brand on the ceiling. As the councilman stated, Marar¡¯bel, after fighting and losing to Alabas had resorted to trapping him and the Ainfidd Kingdom in darkness. Apparently, as long as she had enough Spirit Essence, this darkness would persist and Alabas would be unable to escape. ¡®Marar¡¯bel must have saved up a lot of Spirit Essence and stored it all up in a magical vault. The moment I was granted access to the vault, I must have absorbed some of it. That Spirit Essence must still fuel all of her machinations with energy even after she is dead,¡¯ the Incarnate thought. Indeed. The Spirit Essence that ran through his body was Marar¡¯bel¡¯s. While that was a disgusting thought, the Incarnate didn¡¯t mind it too much. Just as with Tenyen¡¯s Kanva, Blasting Buck, which the Incarnate had learned, he imagined that the Hermetic Vault wasn¡¯t the original Far Ji which Marar¡¯bel had used. Blasting Buck had changed to Sundering Bunt when the Incarnate learned it. The reason was yet to be clear to the Demonling, but he was sure the same applied to his Hermetic Vault. Additional evidence to this was that some of the parts of the symbol on the ceiling, the octagons ¨C same as the ones engraved on his back ¨C remained behind the corpse of Queen Marar¡¯bel. The Incarnate faced the darkness ahead with a sombre expression. It was indeed Ainfidd which was drowned in the deep darkness and within it, was Alabas and his people; those who didn¡¯t follow Marar¡¯bel, at least. The Demonling had many thoughts about this man. According to the councilman, he had been in favour of Marar¡¯bel¡¯s proclamation about her newfound Sorcery before she revealed her true colours. He must have been deeply in love with her. So much so that he never expected her to betray him. The Incarnate narrowed his eyes at the darkness. He wondered. Was the King alive? Chapter 24: Onward Into The Dark Everything the Incarnate had seen so far spelled to him that a very, very long time had passed since the days when the Ainfidd Kingdom was still thriving. The armor of the fallen warriors in the sands was rusted to hell. The ancient structures he had seen when he first woke up on this Floor, large and seemingly not built for or by humans at all, looked a little weathered. According to the councilman, they had risen from the ground under the influence of the Fifth Omen of the Amalgam Sand Fiend. The skeletons he saw, and the mounds of sand also suggested a great passage of time. The Incarnate imagined that no less than a thousand years had passed since everything the councilman wrote happened. Had the King survived through a millennium in that darkness? He was a fearsome warrior, according to the text, given the moniker Flying Reaper Sword. Perhaps he still thrived. The only things that persisted wholly in this place, as the Incarnate had seen, were supernaturally-empowered weapons and beings. Of course, there was the roll of parchment in the Incarnate¡¯s grasp at the moment. While it didn¡¯t appear magical in any way, he thought that perhaps it was an exception protected by this place ¨C Prospect For Reincarnation. The world on the Floors was rather realistic in a way, but it appeared to the Incarnate that there were rules and limits. For Incarnates like him to try their luck in this place, this roll of parchment seemed to be very necessary; they all needed to read it in order to make sense of what was happening in this place. Whether there was a continuity to this Floor after the previous Incarnate came and died or passed, seemed to be up in the air, but the Demonling imagined that there were parts that allowed for continuity and parts that didn¡¯t, reverting to their original form for the next set of Incarnates to challenge. For instance¡­ ¡®If another Incarnate comes through here, I¡¯m sure they will have to fight Tenyen, his dogs, and Kadyas, and acquire the Vault too. On the other hand¡­¡¯ the Incarnate thought before attempting to rip a corner of the roll of parchment in his hand. Even though he was stronger than the average human now, the paper resisted every bit of force he applied. ¡®Just as I thought. This paper can¡¯t be destroyed, but it can be moved. That¡¯s why it was in the hands of another late Incarnate. If what I thought before is correct, it was likely in the hands of the dead councilman initially.¡¯ After pondering on this subject, the Incarnate took a breath. Once again, his mind reared back to thinking about King Alabas. The next stage of this Floor had to involve him somehow, right? There was no way it wouldn¡¯t. Alabas probably wouldn¡¯t be waiting to invite him for dinner either. ¡®If I¡¯m going to go down there, I have to improve my attributes,¡¯ the Incarnate thought before dropping the roll of parchment to the ground. He had been awarded with 8 Incarnation Points after finishing the second stage of this floor. That said, he had already thought about how to apportion them before being finding the roll of parchment minutes before. ¡°I need to increase my durability. There¡¯s no doubt the enemy or enemies I¡¯m about to face will be stronger than me still. I need to be able to take their hits. For now, I don¡¯t think I need to enhance my strength and agility by much,¡± he contemplated. The Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward was already giving him 5 additional points in Strength while the Fickle Viper gave me 4 points in Agility. Better yet, both items improved more than just his physical prowess. They added to his variety of attacks, especially the katana. Beyond this, the Spirit Essence the Incarnate had earned had already bolstered him greatly, especially with how it awakened his empowered his skin¡¯s sensitivity to the point of pseudo-clairvoyance. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. In the end, the Incarnate summoned the golden tablet. ¡°How do I do this?¡± he mumbled before meekly announcing, ¡°I want to spend my Incarnation Points on attributes.¡± Right then, before each of his attributes, save for Spirit Essence, a [0] appeared. As it did, the Incarnate was fed with a degree of understanding on what he was supposed to do. All that he needed to do was will how many points he wanted to assign to each attribute. ¡®I see. So simple.¡¯ Without wasting time, the Demonling added 2 points to STR and AGI, and four to END. === STR : 3 AGI : 3 END : 5 === At once, his body seemed to bulk up a little, his flesh growing tougher. A feeling of lightness also cradled his figure tenderly, and the Demonling leaped in place to truly get a feel of the changes. Indeed, he felt stronger and faster, but not dramatically so. What truly stood out beyond this was how he felt as though a meaningful stab from the average warrior from his original world wouldn¡¯t even be able to cut through his skin, let alone his compact muscles. Also, if he were to take that flurry of hits from Kadyas ¨C the armoured figured he had fought in the ovular room ¨C now, they were likely to do slightly less than half the damage. To the Incarnate, that was a priceless upgrade. ¡®I¡¯d test out the true extent of my durability with the Fickle Viper, but I probably shouldn¡¯t,¡¯ he thought, discarding the idea to try and stab himself. Besides feeling tough, the Incarnate also felt like his body was equipped to endure strain for much longer than before. ¡®Well, just like that, those 8 points are gone. If I had gotten 10¡­¡¯ he wondered when he suddenly stopped. A twinkle of curiosity sprang in his eyes and he rushed to where he had emerged from the dark, cavern-like space. The Incarnate formed a hypothesis. ¡®I only earned 8 points here and before, I imagined that perhaps I didn¡¯t get more because I didn¡¯t do something about Marar¡¯bel¡¯s corpse. Maybe I should go back and¡ª¡¯ Right as he set to dip back into the opening on the thick wall of stone, the Incarnate shuddered and came to a screeching halt. What greeted him was an overwhelming sense of dread. The dull luminance of the night didn¡¯t penetrate the space he had hoped to enter and return to the ovular room. There was only what felt like solid darkness which didn¡¯t encourage the Incarnate to approach at all. The Demonling turned pale and gulped. ¡®I suppose there¡¯s no going back,¡¯ he thought. Of course, that made sense. There could be no do-overs after the performance review. That would be too easy. He slowly turned and faced the slope feeding into the gargantuan well of darkness yonder. With a heavy sigh, he started to slowly march down it. He summoned his Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward, which he had stored in his Vault before. ¡®There are a lot of slopes on this Floor. I keep going further and further down with each stage. Does that mean something?¡¯ The area was quite rocky and the splintered skeletons strewn about only made it more of a chore to traverse this land barefoot as the Incarnate was. Thankfully, because of his increased Endurance, he was tough enough to not get cuts on his feet. Funny. The Endurance denoted in this place expressed one¡¯s ability to persist against cruel odds in two forms ¨C durability and stamina. It was almost as if Prospect For Reincarnation really wanted to make its participants endure as much punishment as possible without dying a second, miserable death. At least the Incarnate thought so. After an hour, Incarnate ^8001 had reached the vibrant, verdant forest on the least steep part of the slope before it transitioned to solid, flat ground. Taking a breath, he grabbed the trunk of a slim tree, and its bark crumbled lightly with his slightest effort. He barely noticed though. He was busy scouting the surroundings. Getting caught off guard again like when he met Tenyen was the last thing he wanted. Fortunately for him, there didn¡¯t seem to be anything out of the ordinary around and thus he relaxed slightly and increased his pace. The Incarnate was surprised to see brooks amid the humid ground which caused tall grasses to flourish. ¡®This place looks surprisingly lively¡­¡¯ he thought. He hesitated a little before drinking from one of the brooks. He had deemed it to have the cleaner-looking water ¨C not that he could discern that well with the lack of visibility. When the cool water trickled down his throat, the Incarnate felt his flesh grow at ease. This was his first time pouring anything into his mouth since coming here and it was a refreshing experience even though his Demonling body didn¡¯t seem to need the sustenance¡­ yet. He moved on. Three hours later, he was finally faced with the deep darkness at close range. It devoured the land ahead, whose degree of vegetation had become sparse once again. Wisps seemed to dance deep within the darkness and the Demonling couldn¡¯t help but be deeply unnerved. ¡®Well, here goes,¡¯ he thought, convincing himself that there was no other way but forward. The moment he stepped forth, every sense he had, save for one, died. He saw nothing, smelled nothing, tasted nothing, heard nothing. However, the sensitivity of his skin persisted. At first the Incarnate panicked, wondering if perhaps this was a bad idea after all, when suddenly, the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward¡¯s enchantment came into effect. It barred a decent portion of the darkness from the Incarnate, restoring his senses. Chapter 25: Guilty The darkness unravelled modestly before the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward. It peeled from the Incarnate like a layer of dirt, leaving him feeling as though the world was basted with hope again. The Demonling had underestimated just how suffocating the darkness was. He had thought that perhaps it was simply the absence of light fitted through the uncanny power known as Sorcery, disallowing Alabas and his people from leaving Ainfidd. But no. It was a lot more sinister than that. If one was drowned in it, all their senses would be voided. They would be crippled of their ability to perceive the world around them, and such a thing, which most people relied on for the majority of their lives, was essential to keeping their sanity. The darkness was designed to inspire despair and terror, and the Incarnate was ashamed to even think about what would have happened if his shield hadn¡¯t mysteriously warded away the sinister effect of the all-encompassing black. Speaking of this mystery, after Incarnate ^8001 recalled his wits, his mind snapped into critical thought. ¡®That¡­ that was terrifying. I didn¡¯t expect the darkness to feel like some massive pool of water.¡¯ He then looked at the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward and his eyes bulged. ¡®Of course! It¡¯s the shield¡¯s enchantment!¡¯ he realized. === [Valiant Subject''s Ward | Grade Potent] +5 STR, +2 AGI - Enchantment I : Wards away harmful supernatural influences around the user. - Enchantment II : 1 in 7 chance of reflecting physical damage back to enemies. - === ¡®The first enchantment wards aways harmful supernatural influences!¡¯ The Incarnate was elated. Even though his shield wasn¡¯t that impressive according to the grading system for equipment, its enchantments had been indispensable so far. ¡®Why did I forget this? The shield was able to lessen the effect of the Omen¡¯s control over the sand. It was the only reason I was able to escape in the first place!¡¯ the Demonling thought. Indeed, that was the case. The Omen¡¯s manipulation of sand had been curbed by the shield¡¯s effect, though only slightly. The same was happening now. Interestingly enough, this made the Incarnate wonder¡­ ¡®It seems some of the powers Marar¡¯bel and the Omen use aren¡¯t entirely related to Far Ji and Kanva. The shield wasn¡¯t able to stop Tenyen¡¯s Blasting Buck, even though it was, in a way, a harmful supernatural effect. But it works against this, in any case.¡¯ As intriguing as this subject was, the Incarnate tore himself aware from contemplation. He couldn¡¯t relax and start writing an essay about the differences between Marar¡¯bel¡¯s Sorcery and Kanva. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! He was in unfamiliar territory. He looked around. The effect of the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward wasn¡¯t that strong. It barely allowed him to see things half a meter away. Unfortunately, this effect was only useful on the ground because anywhere else beyond was still covered in darkness. The Incarnate could see a little of the texture and color of the soil¡­ and that was it. ¡®It¡¯s not much, but it¡¯ll do,¡¯ he thought. Pacing as slowly as he could, the aspiring Tyrant walked on. He soon discovered, however, that this journey onward was going to be a lot harder than he thought. There were a lot of obstacles in his way. Because he was usually preoccupied with checking every direction, in case something lunged at him, the Incarnate had smashed into a wall more than once in the span of five minutes. The next hour of exploration reminded him that he really was in a place that housed humans ¨C or perhaps had housed humans. Tall and broad structures, however decrepit, littered the place, as did the remains of many people. Indeed, the Incarnate had once again felt the crunch of bone under his foot. Millions of people had perished long ago and echoes of their former glory were strewn about, only visible to the Demonling when they were close to his feet. It was a tragic sight. The record he had read made him loathe the selfishness of those in power all the more. How was implicating so many innocent people in the name of ambition and power a righteous thing to do in someone¡¯s eyes? The Incarnate didn¡¯t consider himself innocent, but he had lived out his days regretting the actions he had chosen. He understood how terrible they were. Even if it was his duty to serve his nation, his King, it was inexcusable that he was the King¡¯s sword, sent to slaughter innocents as part of a strategy to weaken and devastate another nation. He had done this many, many times. The Incarnate stopped and scowled. He spat on the ground. ¡®Am I a hypocrite?¡¯ he thought when before his feet, the darkness parted to reveal the eroded skeletons of an adult and a child that probably hadn¡¯t even been a year old. The Incarnate remembered¡­ On the very day that he died, he had killed a family of three; a father, a mother, and a son. He vividly remembered how the man he stabbed cursed him with his dying breath. He remembered the excuse he had given for his cruelty: that he was only a messenger of the King. Somehow, that excused his actions. That excuse doused the guilt in his heart a little each time he said, but the Incarnate couldn¡¯t count on it now. He couldn¡¯t hide behind it. Not after seeing that it meant nothing when he was involved in the senseless murder of millions, like Marar¡¯bel¡­ and Maestus. The Incarnate balled his free hand into his fist. His nails stabbed in his palms, making them bleed. ¡®I¡¯m not so different from them after all¡­¡¯ he thought begrudgingly. But there was nothing for it. After a bout of self-loathing, the Incarnate continued his march through Ainfidd for more than seven hours. It was large and diverse, though he couldn¡¯t tell just to what extent. There were collections of buildings for residents, where he found the most human remains and commercial centres ¨C a staggering number of them. He had found ancient, rusted and worthless treasures, clothes, food and furniture lying in the street. The Incarnate imagined that when the darkness first set in, the chaos had been particularly brutal. The collection of walls with many scratches on their faces, no doubt made my human fingernails, told of the nature of the terror ¨C the madness. The Demonling sighed. After two more hours, he grew tired of wandering around aimlessly and glimpsing the devastation and demise. Where was he supposed to go? What was he supposed to do? This place was just too big. But just as he wondered, something caught his eye, something flickering in the darkness far, far away. It was an orange light! It looked so tiny from this distance, but it rejuvenated the numb mind of the Demonling immensely. Finally, something that wasn¡¯t the nigh living darkness! Finally, a goal! The Incarnate gulped and took a breath. ¡®Even though something terrible is probably waiting for me there¡­ I don¡¯t really have a choice,¡¯ he thought before hastening his pace towards the light. It was located on higher ground and partly obscured by either the thick darkness itself or the structures devoured whole within it. The Incarnate imagined that this was the reason he hadn¡¯t been able to see it before now. He had even meandered a lot through his journey here and yet he hadn¡¯t been able to see anything. After a few moments, the Incarnate hastened his pace again. He grew used to spotting obstacles quickly and avoiding them as soon as they were revealed to him through the illuminated area before his feet. At some point, perhaps because some form of limit to his time here had been established, he began to put focus on mastering the art of avoiding obstacles impeccably even while jogging his way toward the light. The Incarnate discovered that he still had a lot of spare time to do this after spending two more hours on his journey without the slightest evidence that the distance between himself and the tiny, flickering light was dwindling. This had to mean it was quite large from up close. While continuing the difficult exercise, the Incarnate eventually convinced himself that before reaching the light, there wouldn¡¯t be any hostile threats. If there were, they probably would have shown themselves by now. Still, he didn¡¯t loosen his guard completely. In fact, it was impossible to do so when he was keeping his senses keen in order to avoid skeletons, walls, suspended store signs, broken blocks, glass, nails, ditches and so much more. His instincts seemed to level up every hour. Ten more hours later, the Incarnate had gotten used to this ¡®game¡¯ but better yet, he found that he was quite close to the light. Its position in relation to where he was, got even more elevated until it looked as though it was on top of a great hill. ¡®Almost there¡­¡¯ the Incarnate thought. He was rather hesitant to speak in this place as it just seemed too unnatural. When he took a step forward ¨C a large stride ¨C his skin tingled furiously, as though a spider had crawled across it. The Incarnate immediately retrieved his foot. Somehow, he had felt a nasty warning, or perhaps a grave presence. He inched his way forward, wondering what could possibly in front of him when¡­ ¡°What in the¡­?¡± he voiced in dread as he looked below. Chapter 26: End of The Tunnel A great fissure stood before the Incarnate. It limned the ground in a stunningly smooth fashion with minor chips visible on the edge before the Incarnate. However, rather than looking as though it was caused by a natural phenomenon, it gave off an ominous feel. It was deep ¨C very deep. The Incarnate didn¡¯t even dare to get too lost in its depth. The chips at the fissure¡¯s edge which looked as though they were carved by a chisel after it had formed, made his skin crawl. After taking another step forward and feeling chunks of dirt falling into the fissure, the Incarnate was befuddled to see that he couldn¡¯t identify its width. The allowance of the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward¡¯s Enchantment couldn¡¯t mark just how wide this gap in the ground was. ¡®Goodness¡­¡¯ The Incarnate backed away and moved to the left along the fissure. However, his hearts nearly stopped when he saw another fissure cutting across the first one and moving towards the way he had come. To make matters worse, as he followed the length of the second fissure¡­ ¡°What is this?¡± the Incarnate unintentionally voiced again. A great¡­ creature, could be seen. It looked like the amalgamation of several hundred human corpses or perhaps bones, linked together like some sort of twisted, heretical sculpture. The bones were dirty and dark, so much so that the Incarnate imagined that they had all been stained by a lot of blood before. This creature, as the Demonling soon discovered, was laid in two. Its upper half was slumped on one end of the fissure ¨C where the Incarnate had stood previously ¨C while the lower half was located on the other end, where he had moved to just now, driven by curiosity. Immediately, the Demonling thought: ¡®Sorcery.¡¯ It had to be. Perhaps this was what was left of Marar¡¯bel¡¯s battle against Alabas before she fled ¨C the one the councilman referenced. ¡®The fissures¡­ They must have been Alabas¡¯ doing then,¡¯ the Incarnate thought with dread. Once again, the name Flying Reaper Sword resounded in his head. It brought him no joy to piece together that the fissures on the ground were indeed a product of someone¡¯s power. Someone that he might be meeting in an hour or two. The Incarnate trembled wordlessly. He hadn¡¯t felt this way in a long time. Even against Tenyen and Kadyas who were immensely stronger than him, he had powered through his apprehensions and fears but right now¡­ ¡®I have no choice,¡¯ the Incarnate told himself. He looked at the foul amalgamation split in two and frowned. Live humans must have been used to craft it by Marar¡¯bel. Collateral. Casualties. Again, a bitter taste made its way into the Incarnate¡¯s mouth. ¡®If I am to die another worthless death when I reach that light¡­ then I should just consider that my penance,¡¯ the Incarnate thought. If he died by Alabas¡¯ hands or whatever was awaiting him up the rise, perhaps that wouldn¡¯t be so bad. ¡­As much as his very soul would have loved to believe that, the Incarnate shuddered. He soon moved on, navigating his way around the fissures. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. There were more than two. A staggering number of them crisscrossed for the next forty meters, and as much as the Incarnate wandered and meandered, he couldn¡¯t find a spot where they didn¡¯t punish the ground. Likewise, tens of hideous compilations of human remains could also be seen, split, and dissected in many different ways and without fail. None of them remained whole. With time, the Incarnate managed to find the average length and width of one of the fissures: they were roughly eight meters long and two meters wide. Such a discovery made the Demonling hesitate once more about his destination, but he found his resolve again. Barely. Thirty minutes later, a large stone staircase appeared before the Incarnate. It too was marred by abominations and fissures, but he managed to scale it. It twisted and turned a lot, confirming to the Incarnate that the orange light he saw was set on a hill. In his experience, more than a few nations had castles or mansions for esteemed individuals built on elevated positions. This somehow improved their ego. It meant so much for them to live above everyone else figuratively and also literally. In other words, where Incarnate ^8001 was headed, was probably¡­ ¡®A royal residence¡­¡¯ Taking more deep breaths, the Incarnate moved on, slower than before. Soon, he saw the light that had been teasing him the entire way here more clearly. It wasn¡¯t large, as he had thought, but it certainly was rather vibrant. It beat out the thick darkness casually and established an absolute, perfectly circular perimeter where it did not waver or give in to the overwhelming power of Marar¡¯bel¡¯s Sorcery. Something sat in its center, but the Incarnate couldn¡¯t be sure what it was for he was still quite far. Excess light spilling from the origin of the radiance allowed the Incarnate to define the structure within which it was laid, though just barely. It indeed was some kind of castle. Or at least it had been. A grand entrance that no longer featured the elegant double doors it had held in its prime welcomed the Demonling, many fallen blocks and pillars visible past it. The vibrant light was positioned nearly two hundred meters on this first level of the castle, which apparently also lacked walls now. The Incarnate took a step forward. The fact that he was yet to confirm what conjured the orange light unnerved him. ¡°Who goes there?¡± a commanding voice suddenly resounded, its rough, cracking tone causing the Incarnate¡¯s bones to quiver. He froze. What? ¡°Who goes there, I say! Why do you wield Maestus¡¯ brand of armament? Who are you? Show yourself!¡± The voice came again and this time, the Demonling¡¯s skin warned by acting as though it would leap off him if he resisted the voice another time. ¡°I¡­I am a¡­ traveller,¡± the Incarnate said without thinking. He didn¡¯t know what else would be an appropriate response here. ¡°A traveller or a lurker? Why do you shy away from me? Did you not follow the light to this place? Come and see it,¡± the voice came again. It was a lot sharper this time around. The Incarnate gathered his courage. He strode forth and didn¡¯t stop. His steps rang crisply on the floor, as did his fear. He avoided the rubble in his way rather easily because of the newfound instinctual awareness he gained in the last batch of hours; the light also helped. As he approached, the Incarnate finally got a clear view of the source of the light and what was nestled at the centre of its glowing parameter. The light poured from a tall candlestand onto which a thick, white candle marked with ominous writing was placed. A spindly yet radiant flame burning bright and high from the candle, scarcely blinking. Next to the stand was a large stone throne. A man, a large, broad man sat on this throne. He wore a crown that looked as though it was made from black jade and a maroon suit of scale armor that looked as worn as every other thing in the kingdom. A heavy, grey beard that matched his cascading hair fell from his face, shivering because of his hoarse breathing. A shadow was cast over his eyes because of the way he hung his head, making him seem a lot more menacing of an entity. The way his great hand extended to cradle the hilt of a large, rusted bastard sword planted into the floor to the right of his throne would have been even more terrifying for the Incarnate¡­ if the view of the festering maggots and rotten skin on the man hadn¡¯t shoved him with haunting terror first. Just like Tenyen and Kadyas¡­ This man was¡­ ¡°Closer.¡± The man commanded after sensing the Incarnate¡¯s sudden halt. The Demonling hesitated only for a second before forging ahead again. When much of the orange light bathed him, such that the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward¡¯s effect no longer mattered¡­ [You are within range of a Rare Far Ji (Unique Quality)] [Find its source and pay a fitting price to claim it for yourself] The Incarnate nearly choked on his saliva when the message appeared before his eyes, but he couldn¡¯t consider it for a second more, because a crushing pressure poured from the man atop the throne. Even though he was twenty meters away, the potency of his presence still overwhelmed the Incarnate. ¡°Where is your courtesy, traveller? Do I no longer carry the mark of royalty? The mark of a King?¡± the man barked. At once, the Incarnate stowed his shield in his Vault, bowed and dropped his head onto the floor. ¡°Forgive me!¡± he cried. ¡°My ignorance is inexcusable, Your Majesty! But I ask that you forgive it this once!¡± The pressure pouring from the broad man waned. He was¡­stunned, yet pleased. It had been so long. He cleared his throat and shifted slightly. ¡°Tell me. Who are you?¡± he asked. Chapter 27: King Alabas The first thing the Incarnate had thought about when he felt the raging waves of power exploding from the figure on the throne, was what his experiences back in his old life had taught him to do when dealing with offended important officials. Whether it be a King, a Prince, or a nobleman, a foot soldier of no renown like him would have to bow and express an unreal degree of humility and make himself not look like anything worth punishing. This lesson from a past life was indispensable right now. The Incarnate had realized that the man seated on the throne was without a doubt King Alabas. Flying Reaper Sword. It had been an error on his part to not show a King the respect he deserved from the start, and thus why he begged to be forgiven. Thankfully, the simple gesture worked well. King Alabas would indeed have done him harm for his insolence. ¡°Tell me. Who are you?¡± Alabas asked. ¡°What manner of bravery or folly possessed you to walk into this plague ¨C this darkness?¡± The Incarnate swallowed a lump of saliva and remained planted on the floor. He had to answer quickly. ¡°Your Majesty, while I am a traveller, I am not acquainted with much to do with this land. I arrived here only a short while ago and I have been wandering without purpose since.¡± Alabas hummed. ¡°Wandering? Hmm. You do possess a degree of power in that strange body of yours. Perhaps that is what gave you the courage to plunge yourself into this plague?¡± he said, his tone livid with curiosity and hints of amusement. ¡°I¡­Yes. That is one reason,¡± the Demonling said. Alabas remained silent for a while. ¡°Articulate. Brave. Young,¡± he said. ¡°You cannot be someone from my time, from my lands. Even if I cannot tell how much time has passed, it is all but certain that nothing from my reign still lurks with youth like yours outside. Even if there was such, it would not come anywhere near what my kingdom has become. Yet you have. Ignorantly at that.¡± The Incarnate kept taking deep, measured breaths. ¡°What is your name?¡± the King asked. Incarnate ^8001 shook. His mind spun, cycling through the years before his death. He found no name that he had been given worth presenting to the figure before him. Thus¡­ ¡°I have none,¡± he simply said. Alabas once again remained silent for a while. ¡°Rise,¡± he said. The Incarnate stood up but he didn¡¯t dare look directly at Alabas. ¡°Show me that shield you were wielding before,¡± the King said. At once, the Incarnate retrieved the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward from the Hermetic Vault. King Alabas seemed to raise his head a little, his body shaking as he did. ¡°O Maestus¡­¡± he said. ¡°I would recognize your craft no matter which form it takes.¡± The heaviness in the king¡¯s voice bore down on the Incarnate. With what he had read, he could understand the emotions gushing through the king at the moment. He (Alabas) seemed to turn so bitter that ten whole minutes passed without him saying anything more. The Demonling, realizing that he couldn¡¯t just stand here and hope that chance would take care of him, took a leap of faith. If this was another stage of this Floor, his actions would be judged too. ¡°If I may be so bold, Your Majesty,¡± he said before waiting for a few seconds, ¡°Maestus personally handed this to me.¡± King Alabas raised his head fully for the first time, revealing his empty eye sockets riddled with maggots. His gruff beard seemed to tremble as he let out a hoarse breath. ¡°Maestus? He gave you that personally?¡± the King asked. Incarnate ^8001 took a sharp breath and lowered his head even further. If he was going to spill the beans on what happened outside the Ainfidd Kingdom, he was going to have to be extra careful with his words. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Your Majesty, allow me to explain a few things first,¡± he said. ¡°I did not lie when I said I am not acquainted with things to do with this land. I would never dare say I understand a nation such as yours simply because I read about it from a piece of paper. I found a record written by one of your councilmen. It told of the events beginning from your victory over the Feraanites up to when¡­ the writer perished.¡± The King seemed to mull this over with interest. ¡°What is it that you read?¡± he asked, a sharp tone notable in his voice. The Incarnate explained everything he had read in detail, and in the end, he felt the King¡¯s suspicions die. His rage bubbled instead. ¡°So that was what that wench sought to do? Bring our people to ruin? That was why she fought me and turned my children against me?!¡± King Alabas roared. Once again, the Incarnate felt a sharp pressure rise from him, but he said nothing. He waited, hearing the audible grating of Alabas¡¯ teeth and the squelching of his maggot-ridden hands as they balled into fists. The King grew quiet again and then he asked. ¡°What of the shield? When did you meet Maestus?¡± The Demonling got down on one knee and placed the shield on the ground. ¡°As¡­ as I travelled, I met the creature that the Queen summoned. It had nearly ensnared me when the bones of Maestus spoke to me and granted me this shield. It is capable of warding away dark influences,¡± he said. The Incarnate wasn¡¯t prepared to explain how he knew Maestus¡¯ name. He had said it with a suspicious degree of familiarity since Alabas first mentioned it. However, Alabas did not bother with such a thing. Instead, his teeth seemed to break as he gnashed them. With the Incarnate¡¯s narration, he was made to confirm things he had only dreaded for the last millennium. ¡°Alas, I failed as King. I boasted the greatest name and greatest strength on this entire continent, and yet what felled me and my legacy, was my lust for someone unworthy of standing by my side,¡± he said with a harrumph of self-loathing. ¡°That woman ¨C that witch! She had the gall to visit me in this prison and place this foul curse on me! She looked at me like I was some dim mutt and proclaimed that she would keep my children alive¡­ safe from some disaster that fell on the land! That I too should live on and try to escape this darkness so that I can meet them! She claimed that my wrath at that time would be meaningless because she would have long passed! What kind of hateful design is that?!¡± The Incarnate shook. So that¡¯s how it was. Marar¡¯bel had visited Alabas after she escaped the Omen with her children. She had cast the same power that kept her sons ¡®alive¡¯ on him too and left him here still. Truly, Alabas wasn¡¯t wrong in asking what kind of messed up idea this was. Was Marar¡¯bel that scared of associating with Alabas since her betrayal of him? The Demonling wondered about something else too. ¡®Tenyen and Kadyas were mindless creatures that didn¡¯t even speak. How is Alabas keeping his sanity? Is it just because he is strong?¡¯ A deep silence grew once more; this time, it was not abated until nearly twenty minutes had passed. ¡°Traveler with no name,¡± King Alabas said. ¡°You have seen combat, haven¡¯t you? You have seen war.¡± The Demonling was stunned. Alabas had somehow noticed. ¡°Y-yes.¡± ¡°Where do you think lies the heart of it? The match that lights war,¡± Alabas asked. The Incarnate took a moment to think, but he had been carrying his answer since before he met the grave. ¡°The King,¡± he said confidently. ¡°No,¡± Alabas instantly rejected the answer. ¡°Try again.¡± ¡°The King¡¯s council?¡± ¡°No. No,¡± Alabas said and he slammed his fist on the throne¡¯s armrest. ¡°War begins with the King¡¯s sworn swords. His warriors. His soldiers!¡± ¡°It matters little what I decide. In the end, if no one follows me to battle, I cannot raid a nation on my own as long as I hold the title I have. I need my army. It is my followers that enable me to point my hand at an enemy and demand that they be captured or slaughtered. If I were so fearsome alone, why would I care that the Feraanites numbered fifty thousand? I would simply march on and kill them myself.¡± The Incarnate¡¯s head involuntarily rose to look at Alabas¡¯ face. He shivered when he saw the eyeless sockets. ¡°If I were so mighty alone, Marar¡¯bel would have sought to control me. However, after she made me fall for her and made her way into my court, she became powerful enough to make the Baniale` kneel. Our force of eighty thousand marched on the Baniale` lands. We were confident in those numbers, even though we had never seen hope in eradicating the Baniale` before. Marar¡¯bel didn¡¯t need Sorcery to burn those people to the ground, only my men. That is where the heart of war lies.¡± The Incarnate frowned, against the better judgement in his mind. ¡°Your Majesty, do you blame the soldiers then? Is the army the one at fault? Were they supposed to rebel against their orders?¡± he asked, his tone firm yet careful. ¡°Who knows? Perhaps,¡± said Alabas airily. ¡°That is the only luxury a warrior gets to consider for themselves, after all. No man who has ever raised a sword against another is innocent, but to cower under a rock and think about the millions they have killed is not a soldier¡¯s duty. A soldier¡¯s only concern is who they will raise their sword for and for what purpose. Everything else is just an excuse to die and be done with this wretched world.¡± The eyes of the Incarnate bulged. Fury rose within him for a moment. A soldier¡¯s only concern¡­ Alabas gazed at the Incarnate sharply. ¡°I can see you were not just a stray who wound up in a war. You lived it,¡± he scoffed. ¡°You disagree with my opinion?¡± The Incarnate didn¡¯t know what to say. He felt like Alabas¡¯ words were a little too¡­ constrained, biased enough. A bit of grief and bitterness was also mixed in, making it hard to confirm whether or not this was how the king truly felt. But the Incarnate took those words to heart nevertheless. He had thought this man would blindly blame Marar¡¯bel for everything, but no. He considered her betrayal and her choices afterward as two separate problems with different interpretations. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter anyway,¡± King Alabas suddenly said and from his body, an ebony-coloured outline of Spirit Essence surged, making the Incarnate turn pale. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter who is wrong and who is right. Rather, it shouldn¡¯t.¡± The Incarnate backed away in fright. ¡°Unfortunately for you, once you entered this plague, your fate was sealed, traveller. As for me, I have a predicament of my own.¡± As Alabas said this, the candle at his side flickered. ¡°Only a short time remains before this light fades and my sanity disappears. I doubt I can achieve anything in that time nor can I meet anyone else,¡± he said and his bastard sword became encased in a vicious dark light. ¡°Honour me with combat before that time comes, traveller.¡± Chapter 28: Over In A Breath The Incarnate was smitten silly by all that Alabas said, but also all the pieces that seemed to come together. It wasn¡¯t really a surprise to him that once he entered the darkness, he couldn¡¯t leave. He doubted that the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward¡¯s enchantment was capable of defying the sorcerous darkness to that extent. What stunned him, however, was the fact that he might have been able to change this. According to Alabas, Marar¡¯bel cast the curse that allowed her sons to persist for many years on Alabas and told him that if he should escape this darkness someday, his children would be waiting for him, but she would long be dead. This meant¡­ ¡®If I had destroyed the remaining source of Spirit Essence keeping this darkness up, things would have been different right now¡­¡¯ he thought with dread. That was why he wasn¡¯t given more Incarnation Points in the last stage! However, this was the least of the Incarnate¡¯s worries. Possibly because of that blunder on his part¡­ ¡°Only a short time remains before this light fades and my sanity disappears. I doubt I can achieve anything in that time nor can I meet anyone else. Honor me with combat before that time comes, traveller.¡± The Demonling shuddered at these words. ¡°Combat?¡± he asked. His red skin turned to a shade of pink. Alabas sat up straight, his grasp on his sword much more vicious. ¡°Yes. One last bout,¡± he said. ¡°Grant me the greatest honor of all if you can, in fact. Put an end to my misery. I sensed your angst towards my opinions. You think whatever trials you have had to endure as a warrior were borne on you by your King, do you not? I see things differently. If you win against me, perhaps that will assuage some of your wrath towards the wrongs you feel you were dealt, and as for me¡­ I will finally rest.¡± No. Every instinct in the Incarnate¡¯s body rejected this idea. No. No way! If he faced off against Alabas he would surely die! ¡°Your Majesty!¡± he cried, but Alabas¡¯ unusually coloured Spirit Essence exploded out like a bonfire around him. ¡°Arm yourself, traveller. I swear, if you are not vigilant, this will all be over in a breath.¡± The hollow eyes of the King faced the Incarnate and he immediately realized that there was no backing out. Alabas had made up his mind. And even though it remained unsaid, Alabas must have thought they both stood to gain from this. If the Incarnate was trapped here, he would probably be driven to madness sooner or later. Surely, it was best for a warrior like him to die in combat. But the Demonling didn¡¯t think it was fair. Even though Alabas clearly wanted to die, he was going to fight seriously or at least somewhat seriously. He wanted to maintain his dignity as a King and as a warrior even now. But was he sure he had the right opponent? The Demonling gazed upon Alabas, Flying Reaper Sword. ¡®I was happy to die by his hands, right? And for him, if he kills me, perhaps he will feel a little relief for what he believes was the fault of his soldiers,¡¯ he thought while struggling to not crumble under Alabas¡¯ towering, ebony Spirit Essence twenty meters away. ¡°As you wish,¡± he said and took a deep breath. His own silvery Spirit Essence outlined his body crudely as he summoned it. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. He felt every inch of his body tense up with immense focus. This feeling was rather familiar to the Incarnate. When death was assured, a skilled combatant ¨C if they managed to rein in their wits ¨C would always enter a state of heightened focus, of inhuman concentration. This bout was sure to end in mere moments, but the Incarnate wasn¡¯t going to die foolishly like last time. He might as well glare at death so that it did not dub him a coward in the afterlife. The Incarnate thought to pick up the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward, but he knew it wasn¡¯t going to do him any good here. Even if its second enchantment was activated, the Incarnate was sure its low grade couldn¡¯t defend against powers like those he saw demonstrated on the stone steps leading to this castle. Those fissures... Even if he used Sundering Bunt, he knew Alabas was leagues more durable than Kadyas. Thus, the Demonling summoned the Fickle Viper into his hand instead. Alabas remained seated. The Incarnate was sure he didn¡¯t need to stand up to kill him anyway, so he wasn¡¯t surprised. The glowing perimeter which only ensnared Alabas and not him seemed to represent the power gap between them. ¡°Let¡¯s begin,¡± Alabas said. ¡­And a deafening silence ensued. The Incarnate held his breath. With each second that passed, he felt the inevitability of Alabas¡¯ assault, and his instincts flared without end. His muscles tightened further than before until they felt like rocks. At a moment¡¯s notice, however, if need be, they would become as flexible as whips. The Fickle Viper was the Incarnate¡¯s only chance at a win, and it required both flexible thought and dexterous hands. The Incarnate¡¯s legs spread apart. If by some miracle he was able to dodge whatever attack was coming, he needed to maximise his chances of dodging more of them. His skin itched and burned. ¡®It will be over in a breath. It will be over in breath,¡¯ the Incarnate told himself as his eyes widened, seeking to take in every micro-motion in sight. ¡®It will be over in a breath. It will be over in breath.¡¯ A bead of sweat dropped from his temple to his lips. ¡®It will be over in a breath. It will be over in breath.¡¯ A salty taste teased his tongue. Alabas¡¯ ebony Spirit Essence seemed to bellow out all the more. His hand which was on his sword¡¯s hilt, twitched. Then, it happened. The Incarnate¡¯s skin seemed to blister in warning, and then in fractions of a second, he saw the perimeter of light around Alabas get heavily distorted. Something had been set loose, but the Incarnate didn¡¯t know what it was¡­until it dug into him; it was large, tall, heavy, and as it coursed through the air, it made a sharp, whistling noise akin to a blade leaving its sheath. However, the Incarnate barely heard a sound. After all, the thing that attacked him was also exceedingly fast, faster than its entourage of sound. Whatever it was plunged into the skin and bone across his face easily while also digging into his neck and chest at an angle. The Incarnate¡¯s hearts beat furiously in the sliver of time he felt all these sensations. A tall, curved, invisible disembodied sword slash was making its way through his face, but he could also tell from his skin¡¯s nagging liveliness that more followed behind the one. After the current one diced his head, the rest would cut the rest of his miserable body! ¡­ It was true. At death¡¯s door, one could see their life flash before their eyes. But this was only true because of how sharp one¡¯s mind and senses became. This was especially true for the Incarnate. He had never known one could think and feel all sorts of sensations so vividly in less than the blink of an eye. He had never known one¡¯s brain would work wonders when in such a precarious situation. Or maybe he did. Yes, he did! Perhaps this was why, when he felt sure that the first sword slash was less than an inch away from his brain, he willed the Hermetic Vault to open. At once, the four invisible slashes that had been aimed at him vanished, transported to an unseen storage space! However, the Incarnate wasn¡¯t done. Perhaps because his body was now accustomed to reacting at minuscule fragments of time, his free hand pointed towards Alabas right after the projectile slashes had been stored and¡­ SHIIIIIIIING! From somewhere within the two-meter range around himself where he could store and expel items freely from his vault, an invisible sword slash exploded forth while whistling against the air. It was fast. It was sharp. It was full of intent. It flew through King Alabas and his throne before continuing into the darkness beyond him. As the impact of whatever chaos the slash caused far off ¨C noted by falling debris ¨C the Incarnate staggered and fell to the floor, blood pouring from his face like a river! He roared in agony and clutched his face, neck, and chest while panting heavily. For a few moments, the Incarnate couldn¡¯t see straight and the only thing he heard was the sputtering of blood from his wounds. His senses soon stabilized, however, and with eyes swelling his tears, he looked up. He saw Alabas¡­ split cleanly from his head to his groin. The black jade crown he wore fell to the floor, also sliced in half. The King¡¯s head turned to the Incarnate. The Demonling¡¯s eye constricted. However, the worst he had been expecting did not come. Instead, before the King split off as two lank portions of flesh and bone that were momentarily caught from dropping to the floor by the armrests of his throne, he spoke: ¡°Well done, traveller. You truly are brave and bold. One such as you¡­ should not remain nameless.¡± He smiled and his split lips cracked. ¡°Arlosse. That will be your name from now on, if your days aren¡¯t numbered.¡± The Incarnate¡¯s eyes twitched at these words. A name? He hadn¡¯t been sure what to feel, especially when King Alabas¡¯ body opened up like a flower, but the golden tablet soon decided his mood. [You have earned a name.] [From this day forth, you shall be known as the Hollow Demonling Arlosse.] [+10 to all physical attributes] ¡­ Chapter 29: Bottom Ash The Demonling felt an intense, pulsing sting as blood poured from his face, neck and chest, but at the same time, a fiercely hot sensation ran through his body, empowering it tremendously even as he gasped in agony. The Incarnate, no, Arlosse had been blessed with 10 additional points to each of his physical attributes ¨C which didn¡¯t include his Spirit Essence ¨C and his body, which had already been anomalous, took especially kindly to the overwhelming burst of power that surged through him. His bleeding slowed until it stopped, and then the wounds he had sustained ¨C the torn skin, flesh and bone from the first slash that had reached him ¨C inched inward, attempting to mend themselves in real-time. Arlosse shook. He took long, deep breaths to relax himself, but his body refused to calm down. His instincts and nerves were rattled. Before the bliss that was the abundant strength in the form of attribute points, there had been the crippling fear brought on by sure and absolute death. The Incarnate had nearly died at the hands of King Alabas. However, at that moment, all his experience and the will he struggled to understand and reason through ¨C his emotions towards this thing called authority, Kingship and all ¨C allowed him to weather through Alabas¡¯ assault. Arlosse had been convinced that Alabas certainly wouldn¡¯t go all out, but the attacks that came weren¡¯t cheap strikes either. The Demonling looked at the throne where the split flesh of the King lay on either of the two armrests, dripping with maggots and rotten bodily juices too thick to slide quickly to the floor. A horrible stench wafted out, but Arlosse was unbothered by it. His nose, or rather, his soul remembered worse. Suddenly feeling both incredibly lithe and sturdy, Arlosse stood. The pain faded and he sensed that the torn flesh on his face, neck and chest closed up successfully, leaving a long scar that was almost one continuous strip. The portion of his skull that had been hit remained busted, unnervingly enough. Arlosse felt for it as he looked at the gleaming tablet. The damned thing refused to rid itself from his sight. It kept flashing, telling him that from today onward, he would be known as the Hollow Demonling Arlosse. ¡°I finally have a name. Haha,¡± the Incarnate said, a funny, empty laugh escaping from his lips. He indeed finally had a name, and the 30 attribute points ¨C in total ¨C he received, were because he had earned it. It was a reward from Alabas for setting him free, he imagined, but perhaps there was another reason for it he didn¡¯t know. ¡°Arlosse,¡± the Incarnate voiced. At once, the meaning of the name came to him along with the nuanced intent that Alabas meant to convey when he declared it. Bottom Ash. At first glance, the name might have been insulting, considering that bottom ash was residue left behind after fuels like coal were burnt up. It had its uses, but still, a grander, heroic name would have been a lot more desirable for most. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Yet, Arlosse accepted the name immediately. Alabas placed value on him. Bottom ash was incombustible matter. It couldn¡¯t be tamed or consumed by fire. It had no value as fuel ¨C that is, in the conventional sense ¨C but it was one of several components needed to erect the stalwart shelters man hid in at night and when the weather was furious. Arlosse couldn¡¯t help but think that Alabas viewed him as that one soldier who was never used up in war. Instead of dominating the battlefield, fuelling the vicious hate brewed in war, he weathered through it and was destined for something greater ¨C for what came after the fires died down. What this something greater was, Arlosse didn¡¯t know, but he anticipated it. Right then, the glowing tablet showed him something other than his reward for besting Alabas. [Well done! You have matched ¡®Alabas, Flying Reaper Sword¡¯ against his renowned ¡®Rending Windward Edge¡¯!] [You have received ¡®Soaring Severance¡¯!] ¡°Oh.¡± Arlosse was taken by surprise. ¡°That¡¯s right! I did beat him in that way, didn¡¯t I?¡± It had taken the Demonling a few seconds to recall that just now, he hadn¡¯t just defeated Alabas. He had beaten him with his own Kanva. By storing the Rending Windward Edge slashes in his Vault, and then sending one of them back at the King, he had quickly ended the battle. To acquire Kanva, the Incarnate had to beat an enemy in the same respect the Kanva they used empowered, and Arlosse had done just that! Now, he had received his own version of Rending Windward Edge, Soaring Severance. Arlosse beamed. He would have liked to immediately take a look at this new Kanva, but he decided that he owed Alabas one last show of courtesy first. Gazing intently at Alabas¡¯ corpse, he walked towards it after picking up the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward and storing it in the Hermetic Vault. He drew close to Alabas¡¯ throne and the candlestand, and once again, Arlosse was astonished when the glowing tablet suddenly popped up in his vision: [You are within range of a Rare Far Ji (Unique Quality)] [Find its source and pay a fitting price to claim it for yourself] The Incarnate wore a dubious look and then looked at the flickering candle so close to him. ¡°Right. This is another Far Ji. A Rare one this time. I thought only one Far Ji was allowed per person. Could I actually¡­?¡± he said skeptically and then shook his head. ¡°I used up all my Incarnation Points. I can¡¯t find out anyway.¡± He couldn¡¯t pay the price for the Far Ji right now, even if he could get it. Despite saying this, Arlosse looked longingly at the candle, which was apparently the source of the Unique Quality, and then he forced himself to turn towards King Alabas¡¯ corpse. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said with a little bow. ¡°I might not have found a satisfying answer to my conflict, but at least I met a different kind of King to the one I¡¯m used to. You acknowledged me.¡± King Alabas felt more kingly to Arlosse than the one he had known in his past life. Of course, the Incarnate disagreed with Alabas¡¯ strained mentality, likely born from rage and guilt, but he did glean something significant from it. ¡®A soldier¡¯s only concern is who they will raise their sword for and for what purpose.¡¯ This phrase stuck with Arlosse and he would not soon forget it. He didn¡¯t think it was a universal truth either, but it resonated with something deep within him. Right as he gave a last intent gaze at Alabas¡­ [You have successfully defeated King Alabas and put him to rest honorably] [You have freed the accursed family driven to ruin by lapses in judgment and atrocious, vile ambition. You have survived the consequences of their chaotic reign] [Your actions are being judged¡­] [You have been awarded 10 Incarnation Points!] [You have cleared the FIRST FLOOR, the Ruins of the Deserted King, Alabas!] [You will be transported to the ¡®Isolated Foyer of New Beginnings¡¯ shortly] Arlosse¡¯s eyes shone. He attempted to comprehend each of the messages before him, but that turned out to be impossible in a short time. He did understand, however, that he had just acquired 10 Incarnation Points, and was about to leave this Floor soon. And thus, spurred by these two thoughts and a staggering amount of hope, he dived towards the flickering candle by the throne and¡­ Chapter 30: Reform Arlosse felt himself fall through a familiar pool of darkness that was so vast and so tranquil that it would most definitely drive a weaker soul to madness with enough time. Suddenly, the throne where Alabas sat ¨C split ¨C had vanished from sight, as did the remains of his royal residence. This experience was quite like how it was when the Incarnate was first dragged into this afterlife establishment known as ¡®Prospect For Reincarnation¡¯; right before his Incarnation. Because Arlosse recalled that experience vividly, he wasn¡¯t startled. He knew there was a destination, and soon enough, he reached it. He landed safely within a perfectly cubical space with a twilight fog hue to its interior. This was the Isolated Foyer of New Beginnings, the cramped space within which he had been given a crash course on everything to do with ¡®Prospect For Reincarnation¡¯. Thankfully, unlike before, when Arlosse was merely a floating consciousness, he had his full Demonling body this time. He retained his odd body, fitted with rough red skin and well-defined muscles that proudly exhibited the deep well of strength behind them, past his tattered tunic. (Of course, this was a change brought on by the Incarnate¡¯s growing physical prowess.) Arlosse¡¯s jaw-length locks of navy-blue hair swished as he plopped to the ground, his icy blue irises drowned in black sclera trembling in both excitement and curiosity. ¡°I did it,¡± the Incarnate said with a sigh of relief. As he had surmised, the First Floor had had three stages to pass through, and he had done well to overcome them all. [Well done! You have completed the FIRST FLOOR with outstanding results!] [Your Privilege Tier rises. You are now in possession of Privilege Tier 2 benefits] [The Host Guide acknowledges you as its user] [The Host Guide enables the ¡®Bond System¡¯. Creatures of all forms, intelligent and otherwise can be bonded to the user and compelled to be partners of said user on their journey. However, the greater the intelligence of the creature in question, the greater the difficulty in establishing a bond] == Name : Arlosse (Incarnate ^8001) Privilege : 2 Race : Hollow Demonling --- Far Ji (Unique Quality) : >Hermetic Vault >Reform --- STR : 13 AGI : 13 END : 15 --- This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Spirit Essence : 130/150 --- Kanva (Acquired Skill) : >Sundering Bunt >Soaring Severance --- SeiJo (Equipment) : None --- IP : 5 --- Ria (Bonds) : None === ¡®I see. So, this tablet¡­¡¯ the Incarnate thought, ¡°¡­is the Host Guide.¡¯ The screen detailing all the information he was reading had its own name apparently, and only now that Arlosse had reached a higher Privilege, had he been acknowledged by it enough to know its name. ¡°I imagine this Privilege Tier can only be increased by conquering floors. Fascinating,¡± the Incarnate said as he winced slightly. The wounds he had sustained all through the First Floor hadn¡¯t healed, after all. Even the ghastly scar stretching from his face to his neck and chest was quite sore despite having closed up. Arlosse scratched his chin. ¡°The Bond System. It¡¯s easy enough to understand. Though, I wonder what it takes to create these bonds. If it is harder to do for intelligent creatures, then that must mean there are conditions to be met, right?¡± As he thought on this¡­ [Would you like to move on to the SECOND FLOOR now?] ¡°NO, NO! Not yet!¡± Arlosse refused at once. He wasn¡¯t quite ready for that yet. He wanted some time to recover and get acquainted with all his new strengths. After giving his response to the Host Guide, another screen appeared, showing what looked like an hourglass. [You will be automatically transported to the SECOND FLOOR when the last grain of sand falls ¨C that is, in ONE HOUR] Arlosse grimaced. ¡°I see,¡± he said, watching as the sand began to fall into the bottom half of the illustrated contraption. ¡°Then I don¡¯t have that much time. I suppose the first thing I should check is¡­¡± Arlosse immediately looked at the item titled ¡®Reform¡¯ on the Host Guide, below the Far Ji (Unique Quality) section. Indeed. Arlosse had doubted it, but to his great surprise, he had acquired a second Unique Quality! Even though the Host Guide had told him that one of the differences between Kanva and Far Ji was the fact an individual could only acquire one of the latter while an unlimited number of the former could be obtained, the Demonling had found that he was an exception. Right when he realized that he had earned 10 Incarnation Points, Arlosse had taken a chance and dived towards the candle beside Alabas¡¯ throne. He had successfully paid a price of 5 Incarnation Points and now¡­ ¡°I still can¡¯t wrap my mind around this. I thought for sure I couldn¡¯t get another Far Ji,¡± Arlosse said with a frown. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s because the phrasing the Host Guide used was ¡®only one is allowed¡¯? Or maybe¡­¡± As he theorized, it suddenly hit him. ¡°Right¡­¡± Arlosse said. There was that lengthy declaration the Host Guide had made after he acquired the Hermetic Vault days ago. [Your entirety embodies the notion of greed and ambition. Your flesh desires to devour more than its designated portion of gifts in the world. It desires double, and so does your soul. You seek things beyond what you were afforded in your last life] [You are a rare case where flesh and soul are in mutual agreement] [You, Incarnate ^8001, are a true Hollow Demonling] ¡°Double,¡± Arlosse voiced with hints of excitement. This was why. Arlosse didn¡¯t quite understand if this was a benefit afforded because of his race or a blessing by the Host Guide. If it was the former, he imagined that he wasn¡¯t the only exception; there were likely others who could acquire more than one Far Ji. Unique Qualities were really powerful. The sheer fact that they did not require any energy to use was astounding on its own, but the fact that the already ridiculous powers of Far Ji could be expanded on was even more insane. The specifics of Arlosse¡¯s new Far Ji supported this fact. === [Reform | Grade Rare] Allows the user to restore living and non-living matter, down to intrinsic details, back to their most proper state. - Definitions: 1.[Unassigned] 2.[Unassigned]. - Limit: >Each successful usage of this Far Ji requires half an hour. === At once, two things became clear to Arlosse. ¡°I see. So, this is how Alabas retained his sanity.¡± It had been a mystery to the Demonling why Alabas hadn¡¯t behaved like Tenyen or Kadyas; like mindless warriors. The King had apparently used this power, Reform, to keep his mind intact. Quite like the Hermetic Vault, the application of Reform seemed to differ depending on whether it was attached to an object or a living being. Now that Arlosse had acquired it, it had a Limit and was restrained. ¡®Reform¡­¡¯ Arlosse thought, and his eyes sparkled. ¡®Could I use this to heal myself?¡¯ Chapter 31: The First Definition Arlosse immediately set out to test if he could use Reform to heal himself. He had several questions about its mechanics that he needed to confirm, but he figured a practical test would answer most of them in one go. As he thought, it did. Upon choosing to use Reform with a mere trigger from his will, Arlosse instinctively placed his hand on his chest where the damage in his body was most severe. To his surprise, a faint globe of solid orange light appeared around his hand and highlighted his tattered tunic as well as the skin on his chest which rose and fell as he breathed. The way the Far Ji expressed itself was just like how its power manifested from the candle beside Alabas¡¯ throne. It was astonishing, mesmerising even. However, a minute passed, then ten. Nothing happened. Arlosse quickly convinced himself that this wasn¡¯t too surprising. The Limit on Reform was that each successful usage of it would cost him half an hour¡¯s worth of time. Indeed, it was quite frustrating, but a Unique Quality¡¯s Limit was beyond compromise. It was fixed. Not even a Definition could change it. Thus, Arlosse waited. When thirty minutes were finally elapsed, Reform did its job, but the result was by no means what the Demonling had expected. His tunic, which had been battered, bloodied and busted, was immediately restored. It no longer had any signs of age and despite still looking rather unimpressive, it appeared as though it had been freshly sown! Arlosse gaped in shock. ¡°What? Wh-what about my chest ¨C my ribs?!¡± he growled and then slapped his face. All that time wasted¡­ just to fix his rag of a tunic? Arlosse was overcome with rage but he quickly reined in his sanity. ¡°I didn¡¯t miss anything here, did I? I meant to heal my broken ribs. I think that much was clear even when the light this Far Ji creates was around my hand,¡± he said and started to dissect again the mechanics of Reform. ¡°Can it not cure flesh yet? But the description says it should be able to. Or¡­ wait. Maybe it can, but it can¡¯t just yet.¡± This seemed to be the most reasonable conclusion. Arlosse had to rewire his mind according to the information available. Unlike the Hermetic Vault, Reform was a tier below in terms of rarity and power. It held the lowest ranking when it came to Far Ji. Also, unlike the Vault, Reform gave Arlosse more to work with on how he could expand its capabilities. The Hermetic Vault seemed so perfect with its current abilities that the Demonling hadn¡¯t been able to see how to improve it at first, but Reform didn¡¯t come with much initially. It could do a lot, but to do all that, he needed to Define it. Arlosse frowned. ¡°I should watch out for this. Rare Far Ji, I imagine, can be described as being capable of doing certain things, but not immediately after acquisition. Hmm,¡± he said. ¡°In that case, I just need to add a Definition. My first Definition.¡± The Hollow Demonling didn¡¯t look as annoyed anymore. In fact, he seemed glad that he had learned something ¨C a crucial detail about how differences in the grades of supernatural powers like Far Ji distinguished their tier other than the number of Definitions and Limits they had. ¡°Now¡­¡± The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Rare Far Ji cost 5 Incarnation Points to acquire. Their first Definition required half that amount, or rather less than half. Arlosse looked at the Host Guide and willed it to show his Incarnation Points, which were always stored separately from all his other displayed information, it seemed. === IP: 5 === ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll use 2 Incarnation Points to add a Definition,¡± the Demonling said. [How would you like to expand the utility of the Rare Far Ji ¡®Reform¡¯?] Arlosse didn¡¯t know what to say at first, but then he gave what could have been considered a command. ¡°I want Reform to be able to restore the physical properties of living beings.¡± As soon as Arlosse spoke, the Host Guide responded. [A Definition has been added to the Rare Far Ji ¡®Reform¡¯] === ¡­ 1.Restores the physical properties of living beings. 2.[Unassigned] ¡­ === Under Reform, Arlosse immediately saw the first [Unassigned] tag be replaced with how he had worded the new Definition. A smile broke onto his face. ¡°Good,¡± he said and he looked at the number 2 slot. He didn¡¯t know if he had anything else in mind, but he didn¡¯t have enough Incarnation Points for another Definition anyway. ¡°Hmm. I should do well to remember that this Far Ji isn¡¯t really for healing alone. I got a little carried away there. I imagine I should also check how this restoring of flesh works. Does it work on the whole body at once, or over limited sections? My tunic was restored at once, but¡­ that could be how Reform works for objects.¡± Remembering that he was only allowed here for an hour, Arlosse immediately activated Reform and touched his chest. Each successful use of the Far Ji lasted half an hour. Hopefully, he would heal before being transported to the Second Floor. While waiting, Arlosse checked his Hermetic Vault on the Host Guide. He had noticed before, but every item he had in the vault was listed under the Hermetic Vault and not the Equipment section. === [Hermetic Vault | Grade Legendary] Allows the user to store and retrieve anything ¨C any entity and the forces applied on them ¨C within a two-meter radius ¨C in a special, sealed chamber. - [Stored Items] (1) Fickle Viper; (1) Bash Brain; (1) Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward; (2) Blue Slimes; (4) Red Slimes; (4) Pink Slimes; (3) Immaterial Slashes ¡­ === Arlosse couldn¡¯t have been more pleased by this feature of the Hermetic Vault. Anything that had been stowed within it before could be expelled and returned into the vault without affecting the daily Limit of objects he could add to it; he was only allowed to add five new things per add, after all. ¡®I¡¯ll have to be mindful of that Limit and not just add random junk,¡¯ he thought, reminding himself; his hand remained plastered onto his chest. As time passed, the Incarnate reviewed his new Acquired Skill, Soaring Severance, and entertained a great many thoughts about several other subjects. He had wondered about whether to use his remaining Incarnation Points or not, but ended up deciding on the latter. He didn¡¯t think he needed to worry about his physical prowess for the time being, even though he had yet to test out how much stronger 13 points in Strength and Agility could make him. On the subject of attributes, the Incarnate was puzzled about why his Spirit Essence hadn¡¯t been given an additional 10 points as well. Apparently, it didn¡¯t count as a physical attribute ¨C he gathered as much ¨C but that didn¡¯t clear up the many questions he still had about this power and where exactly it stood. Was the way in which he received his Spirit Essence normal? Was the amount he had right now considered high or low according to the standards of the mysterious worlds in ¡®Prospect For Reincarnation¡¯? Why was Alabas¡¯ Spirit Essence ebony and not a soft silvery blue like his or Tenyen¡¯s or Kadyas¡¯? All these questions had no answers, and said answers didn¡¯t appear to the Incarnate in the twenty-seven minutes he spent looking for them. The Host Guide soon announced that his time for relaxation had ended and it was time to move on, much to his annoyance. He hadn¡¯t quite gotten enough time to use Reform properly. ¡°Great,¡± Arlosse said sombrely. [Your allotted time in the ¡®Isolated Foyer of New Beginnings¡¯ has ended] [You are being transported to the SECOND FLOOR] Arlosse rose and wore a stern look. His skin, keen and aware, tingled and he quickly summoned the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward into his free hand while keeping the other on his chest, hoping that the last few minutes required to heal his ribs would be covered without him needing to compromise. The Incarnate was suddenly swallowed by a world of silent darkness and once again, he felt as though he was falling from an unimaginable height. His instincts and senses remained keen. Unlike the First Floor, it was possible that the Second could start off heavy and tense, and thus he didn¡¯t relax his guard. After what felt like a full minute, the Incarnate suddenly felt his feet stand firm of hard ground. The hot sun blasted his skin, then terrible, disgusting noises, then a stench that felt all too familiar. The stench of death. The Incarnate gaped. He was right in the middle of a battlefield. Chapter 32: Thick of It [You have arrived on the SECOND FLOOR, the Crucible of Twin-faced Hope] As the Host Guide announced the strange name of the new Floor, Arlosse hardly registered it in his head. His mind was a bit preoccupied trying to reconcile that he was back in a place like this, the home of death, its emissaries and victims, all of whom raged senselessly ¨C recklessly ¨C as though possessed by devils. Blood spilled every which way the Incarnate looked. Bones crunched under the feet of whinnying horses and tamed, berserk canine beasts he didn¡¯t recognise. Flesh squelched, torn open for all to see the unsightly beauty it hid. The scorching orange sun above, merciless and uncompromising, seemed determined to make all the thousands of corpses lying about look as insignificant, shameful and irrelevant as possible by arousing the stink within them, summoning flies and starved critters in the dry, rocky desert. Human men and women with assortments of armour roared, their steel clashing against that of enemies. Their bodies blazed with silvery-blue Spirit Essences that coated their swords, spears and bows. The same was true for their enemies. Arlosse¡¯s eyes widened at the sight of said enemies; his skin twitched and wriggled madly. He drank in the sight of a creature twice the size of the average man, adorned in thick hides, crude metal bands and animal skulls. It roared like a bear, raised its battle axe and swung with such immense power that it cut through six human warriors at once, splitting them at their torsos. The creature had an ugly face; leathery blue skin with fat warts sagged over it along with four dark eyes and a thick nose like that of a bull. It was flanked and assaulted from the back by armoured human enemies, but a slender figure, similarly inhuman, stabbed the assailants in the eyes while moving like the wind, leaving them screeching and writhing. The odd slender ally grinned; its face which was not too dissimilar to that of a large, red-skinned lizard, widened. It absorbed a sort of savage glee from watching the humans suffering. Arlosse gulped. He needed no assistance to be able to tell just what these two creatures were. ¡®Demons,¡¯ he thought. He could tell. These were his kin, in a way. Tens of thousands of them were running amok, slaughtering humans while wielding bizarre weapons, some more murdery and far less dignified than those the humans used. Some rode great beasts that Arlosse had never seen before, (of course he hadn¡¯t) urging them to speed around at absurd speeds and chomp on the flesh of man before both them and their riders were at times obliterated by equally competent human warriors. And indeed, there were competent humans among the thousands that Arlosse saw, contending on equal ground with enemies twice their size or more. He saw a valiant figure wielding a golden lance skewering tens of demons while charging forth and using their free hand to fling even more of them high into the air mysteriously with but a flick of their fingers. He saw another, likely female (he couldn¡¯t see her face because she wore a helmet), wielding a thick turquoise whip that when sent hurtling like the wind, turned invisible and quite literally smashed open its victims upon crisp, deafening contact. Arlosse flinched. He could feel his three hearts beating louder and louder especially vividly with his hand still pressed on his chest. Seeing the two human warriors startled him. They were in a different league. However, compared to the figure he saw next, those two might as well have been amateurs. A hulking man in a bright silver berserker armour made hundreds of demons retreat with his mighty charge. A greyish kind of Spirit Essence bounded from him, sending chills down the demons¡¯ spines. In each hand, he wielded large, white, ghostly sabres that hissed like serpents. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Arlosse didn¡¯t see him swing them even once, but wherever he passed, whooshing past like lightning, tens of demons of many varieties were left without heads topping their torsos! Blood splashed from their necks and stained the hulking warrior and his steed. Indeed, his steed. The hulking warrior rode quite a unique creature. It was a horse, but Arlosse had never seen one so large and thick in his life. It was nearly three meters tall and was more like a buffalo in its build than anything else. It was pristine white in colour, its long blue tail, sharp and serrated, like a collection of long daggers taking lives whenever it swished. The creature neighed hoarsely and cold frost issued from its mouth which was full of sharp, jagged teeth. As its rider urged it on, it hissed out a great plume of cold that froze his enemies, encasing them in blocks of solid, flaky ice and creating footholds for its leaps across the battlefield. Arlosse couldn¡¯t pry his eyes off the horse, but soon, he was forced to. Just when he glimpsed a powerful demon enemy rising to confront the hulking warrior astride his equally hulking steed, he heard a cry from behind him and his skin tensed in warning. A man in a dull silver armour shuttled towards Arlosse with his spear, silvery-blue Spirit Essence gathering around its sharp end. It was only then that Arlosse reminded himself that he was a participant and not a spectator, and that less than ten seconds had passed since he arrived on his Floor. With nimbleness that shocked even him, Arlosse avoided the incoming spear with a simple, brisk step to the side. When his enemy, helmetless so that his gnashed teeth were more than obvious to see, swiped again with all his might, hoping to slash open the Incarnate¡¯s head, Arlosse merely ducked. ¡®This is so¡­ simple,¡¯ he thought, a smile breaking on his face. Casually, he stowed away the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward, leaving his hand free. Then, with a sharp rise, Arlosse gripped the man¡¯s neck and squeezed. Before he could even relish the stunned look in the man¡¯s eyes, his neck broke and was reduced to something akin to a thin, pulpy sausage. The man died instantly. ¡°Demon!¡± Arlosse heard from behind him. Another human leaped and was soon upon him, his sword raised. Without turning to the enemy, the Demonling sent his balled hand swiping backward as a lightning-quick fist that sank into the enemy¡¯s face. Brains exploded from the back of the poor man¡¯s head. Right after, Arlosse felt once again his skin tumble like boiling water, warning him of a slightly more dangerous attack from the side. The Hollow Demonling felt a surge of Spirit Essence from the distance, and immediately he knew this was the activation of a Kanva ¨C an Acquired Ability. Thus, he moved quickly, his icy blue eyes rushing to identify this dangerous enemy amid the tens of humans who were rushing his way with murderous intent. After catching a glimpse of a long-faced man with a stronger presence of Spirit Essence than most nearby, Arlosse shuttled his way at full speed. The ground beneath the Incarnate exploded with a bang, cocking up dust and dirt. However, to his surprise, just as he launched himself forth, the enemy he had hoped to catch was already a few inches from his nose. Arlosse was bewildered, but so was the enemy. His eyes went round, his face pale. Unfortunately for him, he didn¡¯t react to the odd situation faster than Arlosse. The Demonling pushed forward his elbow as he sped and watched it sink into the man¡¯s nose and smash his face into a mess. As the man gurgled and made a graceless attempt at screeching in pain, the Host Guide helped Arlosse understand what had happened just now. [Well done! You have matched ¡®Enni¡¯ against his ¡®Quick Steps¡¯!] [You have received ¡®Light Birr!] Arlosse was pleasantly surprised. ¡®So, he had a Kanva that increased his speed?¡¯ Arlosse thought. ¡®We must have charged at the same time and met in the middle.¡¯ BAAM! Before he could think on this for a second more, a fierce force blasted Arlosse from his side and sent him flying through the air and then crashing into several human soldiers. Arlosse was alarmed. He didn¡¯t know what just hit him. His keen skin didn¡¯t even get to warn him. Be that as it may, however, Arlosse was mostly unharmed. His Endurance was a lot higher now, even moreso than his other physical attributes. Furthermore, he still managed to keep Reform running on his chest, which he was most glad for. ¡°Rod, kill it if you can! I¡¯ll flank it!¡± Arlosse heard someone scream. Tens of human soldiers were rushing towards him. Some were already upon him by the time he rose, landing their blows. The Incarnate dodged a sword aimed at his head, but failed to react when a rather plump warrior grabbed his free arm and pulled, putting every bit of the dreadful weight he had on it. Arlosse could have simply flung the man away, albeit with some difficulty, but before he could, a hammer smashed into the back of his head causing his mind to spin. A dagger then attempted to pierce into his shoulder while a scorching red flame blasted into the Incarnate¡¯s torso from his front. ¡®Urgh!¡¯ Before he knew it, Arlosse was swarmed by at least twenty human enemies, and some of their weapons were dangerously close to doing lethal damage to him. ¡­ A spark like Arlosse had never known was ignited within him right then. As he was now¡­ As strong he was¡­ What business did these frail enemies have trying to take his life? What right did they have to even manage an attempt? Arlosse¡¯s icy blue eyes gleamed ferociously, and without thinking much about it, he opened the Hermetic Vault¡­ Chapter 33: Bloodlusted When it happened, it took a great portion of the wide battlefield by storm. There had been no prelude ¨C no surge of Spirit Essence, marking its advent known. When Arlosse opened the Hermetic Vault, he didn¡¯t hesitate to send out one of the Immaterial Slashes he had stored from his exchange with King Alabas, the Flying Reaper Sword. To maximize damage ¨C ensuring that he caught the largest body count possible ¨C which would immediately free him from the crowd of assailants, he had the disembodied slash materialize an inch from him, its long, lethal edge lateral. A loud noise, not too dissimilar to a thunderclap rolled out across the battlefield. Because of the sheer speed the Immaterial Slash charged forth with, it butchered nearly fifty bodies directly in front of the Hollow Demonling in an instant. Those who had been struck barely registered that their lives were forfeit, but the attack itself neither waited nor cared. It travelled far and wide, culling human, demon, and beast alike, leaving a trail, from an aerial view, that looked like a mesmerizing assembly of dominos toppling one after the other. Blood sprayed everywhere, as did wails of agony. Both sank into the ground, making it richer. The Immaterial Slash only stopped after it had killed a little more than five hundred warriors and travelled nearly a whole kilometre. Over that distance, only several dozen individuals had managed to avoid being cut apart, either because of unique Kanva, Far Ji, intuition, or the generous terrain, which featured great lumps of rock rising from the ground and deep depressions. For several moments, the momentum of the battlefield died, and every eye looked or tried to look at the source of the sudden, striking death toll. The Hollow Demonling felt the attention, but he couldn¡¯t have bothered with it at that moment. Those who had been binding him from behind, attempting to sink their blades into his flesh, halted, trembled, and drew back. They, much like many others, were struck aghast by what had just happened. Unluckily for them, Arlosse didn¡¯t feel particularly forgiving right about then. His Spirit Essence surged from his body, its volume, vast indeed, cladding him like a malevolent blanket. But then¡­ [You have single-handled blessed the lands with an abundance of Essence-infused blood. A portion of it is imbued within you] [+75 to Spirit Essence] The Hollow Demonling¡¯s body nearly burst with overwhelming strength, and he put it all to good use without questioning the bizarre fashion in which he received it. The Hermetic Vault opened once again, and the Fickle Viper was deposited into the Hollow Demonling¡¯s hand. Arlosse immediately turned and swung the katana with all his might, his Spirit Essence dancing along its edge. Sensing his intent, the katana¡¯s blue blade extended and caught every single one of the humans behind the Incarnate in its baleful swing. They were all filleted perfectly across as they shrieked in deathly pain, their defenses deemed insignificant. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. The Demonling didn¡¯t stop to savor their deaths. He pushed against the ground, his other hand still plastered on his chest, and leaped over to where a gathering of withering human soldiers was looking at him with pale faces. When the Incarnate landed, the ground under the feet of these men jumped, and they were flung into the air, only to meet the winding blade of the Fickler Viper which angled and twisted while boring into their throats and sneakily piercing into the spaces between their armor. Arlosse felt his skin, once again empowered by the additional Spirit Essence he had just received, warn him of a surge in Spirit Essence to his far left, then another to his right, and yet another position. At once, the Incarnate stowed back the Viper and the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward was soon in his hand. Pinning the strongest presence among the lot he sensed, Arlosse aimed, activated Sundering Bunt, and flung the shield as hard as he could. The kite shield barely looked like a solid shape as it blasted on as an ugly trail of something brass and silver. It minced many, including the source of the presence Arlosse had just targeted. But right then, there was a thunderous crackle, and in the next moment, Arlosse was blinded by a striking blue light and an incredibly hot burst of heat began to fry his thigh. The Incarnate recognized the danger. Immense danger. A quick, unnatural attack had reached him, leaving him no room to dodge. However, he was no stranger to sudden peril. The Hermetic Vault opened, and the staggering bolt of lightning that would have surely blasted Arlosse¡¯s leg to bits was gone. Almost at the same time, the Incarnate felt something stabbing him from the back, and he groaned in agony. Again. Something had attacked without him getting a warning. This was twice now! A dagger was lodged in the Incarnate¡¯s back and its user seemed to still be attached, but unseen to the eye. Whoever it was appeared to be strong enough to breach his defense, however unrefined it was. FWWSH! FWWSH! A rain of arrows flew towards Arlosse right when he thought to try and grab the assailant, and immediately, with great difficulty, he leaped away, the ground beneath him crashing inward. The Incarnate landed safely away from the arrows, and nearly two meters away from where the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward had ended up losing its momentum. He quickly stowed it back within his Vault and then equipped it in his hand. ¡®This is manageable,¡¯ the Incarnate thought to himself as he sent a human warrior flying tens of meters away with a brutal roundhouse kick. ¡®I¡¯ve never felt so¡­ alive.¡¯ He severed the head of another enemy with the sharp edge of the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward and kicked it toward his allies. ¡®If only I¡¯d been like this back then¡­¡¯ Arlosse¡¯s blood boiled when a human warrior he snatched from the sky as he (the human warrior) leaped towards him begged for his life upon looking into his merciless eyes. He hammered the man into the ground, face first, crushing his head. ¡®So, this is what those bastards I called my superiors felt¡­ why they never cared¡­¡¯ Right then, Arlosse felt his broken ribs get mended, the torn flesh in his chest repaired to its most perfect state. Finally. Reform had healed his most concerning wound. Indeed, just the one. But Arlosse was glad. ¡®No wonder they never questioned themselves. They could define themselves freely with their strength!¡¯ Arlosse thought, reminiscing about his superiors from back in his past life. No wonder¡­ The Incarnate¡¯s Spirit Essence spiked and as he activated his new Kanva, Light Birr, his figure, quite to his own surprise, turned light and illusory for a moment before shredding sixty meters ahead in the blink of an eye. Arlosse only became solid and saw his surroundings clearly when he had the heads of two men, one of whom tried to stab his sword into his side a moment later, in his grip. He crushed the insignificant pests in his hands. A dark sense of glee bled through Arlosse as blood stained his face. He donned an unseemly broad grin and made to search for the elusive bastard who had struck him twice now unseen, imagining how thoroughly he would tear out his spine and use it as a whip to¡ª ¡°No.¡± Arlosse stopped. This wasn¡¯t right. He was slipping. He was losing it. Taking a deep breath, the Incarnate quelled the terrible thoughts that ran amok in his head. There was no way he would become like the very men he considered to be slightly better than. Just because he now had astounding strength, and could understand the thrill in easily trampling over the weak, didn¡¯t mean he had to become the same. No way. Not this version of himself. The loud galloping of a great beast came from behind Arlosse, and as his skin warned, he turned. Before he knew it, a rather long, sharp something hooked him by the collar of his burnt tunic and settled him on the back of the beast. Arlosse was alarmed at first. He hadn¡¯t registered that the large half-bull, half-deer beast he had seen had a rider. Of course, this rider was not human and didn¡¯t seem as though they meant him harm. However¡­ ¡°What did you have to kill many of our own for, you fool?!¡± --- |Key| [Stored Items] (1) Fickle Viper; (1) Bash Brain; (1) Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward; (2) Blue Slime; (4) Red Slimes; (4) Pink Slimes; (2) Immaterial Slashes; (1) Lightning Bolt Chapter 34: Ally? ¡°What did you have to kill many of our own for, you fool?!¡± ¡°Err¡­¡± Arlosse murmured, unsure how he was to answer this question if it even required him to give a lengthy explanation. Besides being stunned by the question, the Incarnate was also taken aback by the appearance of his fellow demon. Back in his old days, Arlosse wouldn¡¯t have pegged himself as someone who had any right to judge another individual¡¯s appearance. He didn¡¯t have that luxury and wasn¡¯t exactly a handsome model of a man himself. However, today¡­ right now¡­ Long story short, the poison green half-mantis, half-caterpillar creature packed before him in a bundle of weirdly-shaped leather armor and shawl that somehow fit it perfectly well¡­ was atrociously hideous! It had a thick, black chitinous layer on its back that extended to its small head, which spotted dark, beady eyes and sharp mandibles that clacked when it spoke. ¡°Well? How are you going to explain this to the Generals? And come to think of it¡­ How come I¡¯ve never seen someone like you before?¡± Arlosse froze. It was only now that he thought seriously about his position in this war whose purpose he was yet to uncover. He was a demon, and it stood to reason that he had to help other demons against the humans. Post his release of an Immaterial Slash across the battlefield, he had done just that, slaying humans in a dark frenzy, but most of this was spurred only by his blind rage and bloodlust. On top of that, he was used to fighting and killing humans, so the thought of assaulting a demon never crossed his mind earlier. Besides, it was hard to target anyone but those who were attacking you in basic combat, and no demon had attacked Arlosse yet. ¡°I-I made a mistake. I didn¡¯t mean to,¡± he said, somewhat meekly, an itch in his back making his voice uneven. The Incarnate really didn¡¯t know how to handle this situation. ¡°Mistake, ey? I wish I could casually kill hundreds of my fellows demons and call it a mistake,¡± the abomination of a demon said as it drew the reins to the bull-deer beast they were riding with its hooked claws. The beast took a sharp turn to the right and charged straight into a horse that a certain confident-looking redhead was riding. Before the man¡¯s horse was skewered, its guts blown out, he leaped up high, quick and straight as an arrow. To his enemies¡¯ shock, he turned into a mass of searing blue flame, and streaked down towards them like an vengeful spear! Because he didn¡¯t feel a surge of Spirit Essence, Arlosse immediately surmised that this human was using a Far Ji, and he tensed. ¡°Get off!¡± the mantis-caterpillar demon screamed, pushing himself and Arlosse off the bull-deer. An instant later, there was a deafening explosion and a wave of scorching heat rolled outward with choking dust. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! The smell of distastefully burned meat assailed the air along with dark smoke. Arlosse brought forth the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward hurriedly after a long roll, entangled around him the nasty, caterpillar-mantis demon. He couldn¡¯t think too deeply about the shiver down his spine from mingling with the creature¡¯s many small legs which wiggled on both sides of its caterpillar half, however. Many enemies were rushing the two. It didn¡¯t please the Incarnate to soon learn that the man who had killed their ride and caused the conflagration just now was approaching them as well, his human body restored. ¡®This is pretty dangerous. We are getting swarmed by stronger foes. Should I use¡­?¡¯ Arlosse contemplated releasing another Immaterial Slash, but before he could decide, his legs suddenly felt weak and he fell on one knee. The mantis-caterpillar demon, as it stood upright, gave a quick look to Arlosse. ¡°What the matter? Now¡¯s not the time to get swamp legs, or whatever you call it?¡± it said before raising its green claws. But Arlosse couldn¡¯t reply. There was a stabbing pain in his back, and it spread, pulsing outward like a large web to other sections of his body. For a moment, the Incarnate thought the invisible assailant from before had returned, but he quickly discarded the idea. This sensation he felt¡­ It was likely¡­ ¡°Poison¡­¡± he managed to say. He had been poisoned when he was stabbed in the back moments ago! The caterpillar-mantis didn¡¯t seem to hear him, however. It screeched and pushed both its claws forward. Arlosse felt a sharp surge in the Spirit Essence in its body and the enemies coming to surround them were suddenly blown back by a fierce force, like an invisible wind. Most were blasted high and far, crashing wherever else there were the sounds of clashing and killing. However, the redhead from before remained. Right when the odd demon had attacked, he once again turned into a great, towering blue flame and condensed into a ball which flew towards the duo. Arlosse, gritting his teeth in pain, had been about to use every morsel of strength he had left to block with his kite shield when he was suddenly pushed away by an invisible force, casting him back. The mantis-caterpillar demon had pushed him to safety! A split second later, there was another detonation, and Arlosse watched as the mantis-caterpillar was devoured by the unforgiving blue fire. The Demonling was starstruck. A mix of emotions he didn¡¯t intend to feel rose even as he tumbled further and further along the ground. He couldn¡¯t believe that he actually felt something for that ugly thing he had just met, or rather, he didn¡¯t understand what he felt. ¡°For legs¡¯ sake, stand up and run, you fool!¡± Arlosse heard a boisterous voice call, and a sizzling claw hooked him from the ground. The mantis-caterpillar, charred to a degree, rushed him away! Arlosse had no idea how it survived that redhead¡¯s attack, but a part of him was overwhelmed with relief. The abomination was alive! ¡°Poison¡­¡± he murmured, and the caterpillar-mantis glanced at him. ¡°Of course it is!¡± it yelled irritably. As they raced along, more demons rallied towards them, wrestling away the humans that came surging toward them two. Arlosse was surprised. His view of the battlefield ¨C of the two sides wrestling endlessly ¨C turned muddled. His definition of kinship was obscured. His body was one thing, and his soul was another. There was a blaze of a great blue flame and the redhead warrior appeared once more, undeterred by the force of the gathering demons. The Incarnate couldn¡¯t help cursing. Why was this bastard so persistent? He saw his fellow demons swarm him, but didn¡¯t get to see the result because he and the mantis-caterpillar demon climbed onto another beast that readily accepted their weight and charged onward. ¡°Don¡¯t think I¡¯m doing all this for nothing!¡± the odd insect demon cried. ¡°I don¡¯t know how a hybrid like you came to join the army without others noticing and reporting it, but it¡¯s all good for me! You owe me. You owe me big, hybrid! Even if the humans beat us to the Shard, I will be living like a king among the others after you pay me back this favor!¡± Arlosse¡¯s brow rose even as his agony mounted. Hybrid? Shard? He was lost. What was this thing talking about? Was this a hint about the reason why this entire battle was taking place? A deafening noise, like the blow of a gigantic horn, suddenly sounded across the battlefield, its raging bellow nearly paralyzing Arlosse for good in fright. In contrast, his ¡®companion¡¯ laughed gleefully. ¡°It¡¯s ready!¡± the odd demon screamed. ¡°We best take full advantage of it this time! This just might be the last time we can use it.¡± All of a sudden, a shroud of crimson bathed the mantis-caterpillar and all other demons across the dry, rocky desert. Chapter 35: Boorish Frenzy The blaring sound of the horn, so mighty it caused the ground to tremble, came to a sudden halt, puzzling Arlosse. What was that sound? Why was the abomination beside him along with the other demons getting so excited because of it? What was the shroud of crimson the Hollow Demonling was seeing, brimming around each and every one of them and why was he untarnished by this energy? Arlosse didn¡¯t know what to think. Even the mount he and the caterpillar-mantis were riding was coated in this curious energy, and, though he might have been mistaken, the Demonling thought he felt the galloping beast¡¯s muscles toughen up. Eager and curious, Arlosse sought the source of the blaring noise that had prompted everything. With quite some difficulty, he turned and surveyed the battlefield. It took him a few moments, but soon, he spotted it. It indeed was a horn, as far as he could see ¨C a gigantic horn whose details he could confirm. The horn was far, far away, roughly four kilometers south; its location was raised beyond the mostly level field where the battle was taking place. Arlosse was astounded by the fact that the sound from that thing reached all the way here with so much of its power intact. As though to demonstrate to him once again how powerful it was, the blaring of the horn began once again, this time seeming a little louder and fiercer, so much so that Arlosse, continually weakened by poison, almost lost balance as the vibration ran through the flesh of his ride. The crimson layer around the individual demons grew and some of them began to cackle maniacally, a sort of madness livid in their eyes (for those that had them, that is). But then, when the sound from the horn stopped a second time, Arlosse¡¯s eyes widened. He too was covered by the shroud of crimson energy now! It seemed to work its way into his vessels and accelerate his heart rates to a degree that would have been fatal in his past life. Arlosse¡¯s acute sensory prowess allowed him to feel his flesh sparking to life, a considerable degree of strength ¨C quite like a jolt of adrenaline, neither supernatural nor excessively explosive ¨C surging through his entire being! All of a sudden, the pain in his back was masked by a fierce heat building up in his entire body, and an intense urge to smash something. It was rather overwhelming. ¡®What in the world¡­?¡¯ Arlosse wondered in shock. [You are under the effect of Boorish Frenzy] Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! [Your wounds, ailments, and mortal limits will not weigh you down for the next six hours] The Incarnate gaped at the sudden explanation by the Host Guide. Boorish Frenzy? Not weighed down for¡­ six hours? ¡°RETREAT TO THE CLERICS! RETREAT TO THE CLERICS!¡± The Hollow Demonling heard a bunch of humans calling to others and rushing away from the charge of demons of various kinds, suddenly emboldened by the horn¡¯s call. As the Host Guide had described, the demons, stripped of pain, exhaustion, and all kinds of weakening effects, seemed stronger and more reckless. They dived toward the human enemies without formation or keen thought. Well, most of them. They swarmed human warriors and tore them limb from limb; they spent a needlessly long time flaying and chewing on their opponents. Some of the unsightlier demons performed some rather¡­ atrocious actions, relishing in the innovative savagery that suddenly came upon them. ¡®They¡¯ve gone insane!¡¯ Arlosse thought, and then he heard the third groan of the horn, and the Boorish Frenzy effect seemed to worsen. He felt it for himself. He felt the impact of the poison within him lessen even further, his body quite literally trembling with urges the Incarnate could hardly control, but he reined them in. His fellow demon, the caterpillar-mantis, wasn¡¯t quite equipped with the ability to restrain himself, however. ¡°YEEEEEHEEEE!¡± the abomination screamed as it steered their mount to a bunch of retreating humans and had it stomp on them until they were paste before charging towards more living ones. The caterpillar-mantis then threw out a claw towards a group of charging enemies and mysteriously, they were all dragged towards it. With another claw, the abomination swiped them cleanly in half and urged the mount further on. Arlosse attempted to speak to the demon, but he didn¡¯t listen. He only made loud, ecstatic noises. ¡°Damn it!¡± the Demonling cursed. He had been wondering what to do before catching sight of a rather chilling scene before him. They were headed toward a familiar human warrior that Arlosse had thought to never draw close to. It was a certain man wielding a golden lance which he whipped at shocking speed to slay the empowered, swarming demons with the same ease as that which he had been slaying them before. At once, Arlosse dived from the mount. He wasn¡¯t up for this. He did, however, feel that he truly owed the caterpillar-mantis his life and that letting him charge to his death would leave him with a lot of unwanted guilt. Thus, Arlosse flung the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward while using Sundering Bunt, and the shield soared to slice through the legs of the caterpillar-mantis¡¯ mount. Rider and beast fell to the ground in a shower of dust. Arlosse would have waited to see what followed, but a storm of blue flame shuttling upward a distance away stole his attention. The Incarnate had turned just in time to watch as a humanoid demon ¨C also shrouded by the crimson energy ¨C in green armor drove his sword into the chest of the human who conjured this flame! Indeed, the towering flame bellowed from a familiar redhead. He bled from the mouth and soon, he also bled profusely from the stump of his neck when a slender demon sliced off his head from behind. As surprised as Arlosse was that this freakish human had been done in so easily, he wondered about another thing. ¡°These demons don¡¯t seem to be crazed and mad like the others. Well, I¡¯m not either. Why?¡± he said to himself. The pouring of blood and cries of agony attempted to incite Arlosse into raging across the battlefield like before, now that he wasn¡¯t paralyzed. However, he resisted. He had questions. He was unnervingly ignorant about what was going on here. Thus, he simply watched. He saw hundreds of human warriors racing towards thick, golden beams of light that appeared one after another across the battlefield. Men and women in long robes of green and gold were the sources of these beams; they stood surrounded by competent-looking warriors, holding in their hands tall staves which issued out the sacred light in a vast radius. Human soldiers wrestled their way into the protective fields of light and curiously, their pursuers ¨C mostly ugly and many-legged ¨C didn¡¯t follow. They snarled and chased those who had yet to find refuge in the light. ¡°I see. I imagine this isn¡¯t the first time that horn has sounded. The humans are prepared for what it brings. Though... What exactly is that light?¡± It was strange how the demons avoided it. Perhaps, quite like in his previous life, demons represented some sort of evil force that could be warded off with good. Looking at the abominations among demons feasting on human flesh in a frenzy, Arlosse couldn¡¯t help but think that indeed, he might have been incarnated into innately evil flesh. Chapter 36: Taking A Moment Three hours passed on the battlefield, and to the Hollow Demonling¡¯s surprise, the fighting only intensified. The humans had indeed been put at a disadvantage when the great horn sounded, most of them ¨C the weaker ones, Arlosse had noticed ¨C pushed to retreat to safety. However, while rallying around powerful human warriors whom the Demonling heard being called Tenet Commanders, the human forces found their footing once again and charged, ripping the frenzied demons to pieces with clever formations. Arlosse had watched without openly engaging for a while. He needed to learn more about the nature of this conflict. What was the Shard his fellow abomination had referenced? What were the staves issuing the golden beams of light? While trying to figure these things out, Arlosse had used Reform to heal the wound on his back, which, thanks to his ability to not bleed out ¨C which was further reinforced by the recently earned 225 points to his Spirit Essence ¨C hadn¡¯t caused problems too great for him. Unfortunately, while he healed that wound, he didn¡¯t manage to fix the fact that the poison which had slithered into his body through it was still roaming his bloodstream. This fell out of Reform¡¯s capabilities, it seemed, after all, it wasn¡¯t exactly practical to target every single bit of his flesh and blood; Arlosse had discovered earlier that when it came to living things, Reform couldn¡¯t heal their entirety at once. Still, the Incarnate had healed some of the other major wounds on his body, such as the one on his side where the Fickle Viper had stabbed him while in Kadyas¡¯ hands, and some of the nasty stabs it had delivered. Far from being a victory, the Incarnate had been forced to use his other Far Ji, the Hermetic Vault to store two particularly quick arrows that had soared towards his head, nearly killing him when he was scrutinizing the activity on the battlefield. Just like that, Arlosse had lost another open slot to store items today (he had stored that one bolt of lightning that had nearly blown off his leg earlier) and now, only three remained. Doing investigative work while on the battlefield was tricky and risky, but Arlosse¡¯s patience and hard work, most of it learned from knowing to fight smarter rather than harder when you were clearly weaker than your opponents, had paid off somewhat. He found out, through some screaming humans fighting to protect those whom they called Clerics, that the beams of light were called the Abundant Radiance. Or was it that they were derived from the Abundance Radiance? Arlosse didn¡¯t hear it clearly. They only lasted for roughly an hour before needing to be recharged. If a demon got too close, they would be destroyed instantly. Arlosse had been stunned when a rather large snake demon with many heads growing from its back like the protrusions from a spine, so mad that it couldn¡¯t help it, had charged into the light only to turn to dry ash that was swept away by the wind. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. It was horrifying. Other than this detail, Arlosse learned something else, though it was far removed from things he wished to know about this Floor in particular. When a powerful human had sneaked up on him an hour ago, bearing quite a suppressive shroud of dark silver Spirit Essence, the Host Guide had responded to his (the human warrior) murmurings about his reserves of Spirit Essence and shown him the human¡¯s status! Indeed, Arlosse could use the Host Guide to see the name, race, and physical attributes of other living creatures, but only just that. Of course, it wasn¡¯t as convenient as checking the properties of non-living objects. It took a few moments for the Host Guide to produce the result for whatever reason, as the Demonling came to understand. He had wondered why the Host Guide didn¡¯t tell him he could do this but recalled that the tablet never told him he could check the attributes of physical objects either. Perhaps this was a use for the Host Guide that only manifested after it acknowledged him. That said, one of the questions Arlosse had had since he acquired the Hermetic Vault was answered. While checking the value for Spirit Essence for different warriors, human, and demon, he found that his 225 points were not, in fact, too outlandish, at least when measuring them against the stronger foes he had met. It was safe to say that Arlosse, in terms of Spirit Essence, was not kin to the riffraff, something his complete decimation of weaker soldiers earlier had already displayed. This warmed the Incarnate¡¯s heart. Currently, the Incarnate was hiding behind one of the rocky protrusions in this desert, roughly four meters tall. They were strewn about this section of the desert, though many were being toppled over by the fierce battles. ¡®Is it just me or has the sun¡¯s heat gotten worse?¡¯ Arlosse thought. The sun was still blazing overhead, scorching everything beneath it mercilessly. It worked especially well on the thousands of corpses lying on the ground, making their smell even more atrocious. Demons and humans had started falling like flies ever since the Boorish Frenzy was incited, after all. Arlosse peeked from behind the large rock to look at the chaotic fighting. He still wasn¡¯t sure how he was to approach this Floor. If the Second Floor worked like the First, then there were three stages and this was the first. What was he supposed to do here? How was he to earn his ten Incarnation Points? A cold breeze suddenly bashed against Arlosse¡¯s face, sprinkling bits of snow. ¡°HAHAHAHAHAHA!¡± the Demonling heard a cold, distant laugh, and something flew over him, smashed through an erect rock pillar ten meters away, and continued to hurtle far at breakneck speed! Whatever it was, was the source of the chill Arlosse had just felt, and the glimpse that the Hollow Demonling managed of it made him realize that it was the large, white horse he had seen three hours ago, atop it, a hulking human warrior! Arlosse remembered being frightened by the sight of this human and his steed. He couldn¡¯t imagine just who had sent him and his steed flying across the battlefield. From what he could see, the fallen warrior and his horse were immediately set upon by dozens of demons, all of whom seemed quite powerful. Most of them aimed for the hulking warrior while he was down. He didn¡¯t look good. He had a nasty gash across his chest which cut through his armor, revealing bloodied, sandy-toned skin. This was what motivated the demons. Unfortunately, the demons¡¯ dismissal of the fatally wounded warrior¡¯s steed was a grave mistake. The great horse whinnied vengefully and chilling frost spewed from its mouth like baleful clouds, large chunks of sharpened ice forming in it and speeding to puncture its rider¡¯s enemies. Large glaciers were then formed as soon as the demons either retreated or were killed, walling off the horse and its rider protectively while more demons surged, cackling and readying their attacks. Arlosse¡¯s eyes shone. He couldn¡¯t help but think¡­ ¡®What a loyal steed...¡¯ Indeed, it was. Chapter 37: Save The Horse! The moment Arlosse saw the horse and took in its deep desire to protect its master despite being heavily injured, a thought rapidly sprang up in his mind; it was something that he had been introduced to rather recently. The Bond System. After completing the First Floor, he was given a new privilege that allowed him to create bonds with living creatures, and have them accompany him on his trials to become the Hateful Demon Tyrant. At once, the Incarnate imagined himself astride the large white horse as its master, having completed the conditions required to earn its loyalty and invoke the Host Guide¡¯s Bond System. It was a fleeting image, but it was wonderful indeed ¨C powerful even. The Incarnate felt a tug at his heart¡­ hearts. Perhaps, a greater contributing factor to how he was suddenly compelled to charge forth and kill the demons now attempting to breach the tall walls of ice the white horse had created, was that he had also had a loyal horse he had known for a time in his previous life. The horse had been lent to him by a farmer who had supported the efforts of the army against a particularly fierce nation called Inuad. The horse Arlosse, unlike the buffalo-esque variant he could see now, had been rather skinny, but quick and driven, answering to the name Wick. Sadly, as brave and as loyal as Wick had turned out to be, it had died to twelve arrows like any other normal horse. There was a chance, however, that the frost-spitting steed ahead of Arlosse would prevail against even that. Thus, with eyes teetering between fury and terror ¨C dreading the fact that he might be spotted and deemed a traitor ¨C Arlosse surged towards his kin who had already shattered a portion of the ice around the horse and its fallen master and were beginning their assault. With his reinforcement using Spirit Essence, Arlosse managed to cover the distance in a few breaths and soon, he was able to see the white horse standing on its hind legs, whipping out its long, sharp tail to fight back. It was wounded indeed. A few gashes could be seen across its chest and thick neck, the blood slipping from them staining its pristine white hairs. The Incarnate saw one of the demons, humanoid like him, raise and crash its mace into the horse¡¯s face, sending it tumbling away from its master. The horse bled from the mouth profusely, having lost a few of its sharp teeth. ¡®I have to act now!¡¯ Arlosse thought, hoping what remained of the wall of ice would act as temporary cover from outside surveillance on what he was about to do. The Fickle Viper appeared in his hand, and immediately, Arlosse charged it with an abundance of Spirit Essence. It shone like a lantern. Then, he finally used the Acquired Skill he had inherited after besting King Alabas in their short exchange. === [Soaring Severance | Grade Epic]The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. By infusing Spirit Essence into a sharp-edged weapon, amplify its general attributes and enchantments, and imbue them into an immaterial slash that will be sent forth from the weapon upon swinging it. The projectile attack will bend to your will depending on your strength of mind. - Cost : 65 Spirit Essence === This was the variant of the Acquired Skill that King Alabas used to summon his fatal immaterial slashes. Replicus had studied it while in the Isolated Lobby. It had a high cost, but Arlosse thought he could manage it. He had plenty of Spirit Essence left even after using Sundering Bunt a few times, after all. He rushed into the gap in the ice and quickly went on offense. He swung the Fickle Viper at a demon that had been about to use some kind of purple, liquid sort of flame on the wounded hulking human warrior. At once, as Arlosse expected, a vague, feeble slash was projected from his gleaming katana and it whipped quickly towards the demon. POW! The slash met the demon¡¯s armor and created a long, thin, wiggly indentation on it from which blood spilled in torrents. The attack hadn¡¯t been nearly as powerful as Arlosse hoped, but the demon shrieked in pain and fell to the ground convulsing. The Incarnate hadn¡¯t waited to see the result, however. He had already turned to the demons about to put down the neighing white horse. He had the Fickle Viper elongate while simultaneously swinging it at full strength. With a sharp, crisp whipping motion, the Fickle Viper, empowered tremendously by Soaring Severance, cut down three out of the five humanoid demon assailants cleanly in half. The ones that survived had only managed to because they had sensed the attack coming, one leaping up and the other ducking down. The one to dodge upwards roared malignantly ¨C the shroud of Boorish Frenzy clearly outlining him ¨C and he sent a set of daggers flying through the air toward Arlosse. The Hollow Demonling manifested the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward and blocked the whooshing blades easily, though he found that they had a shocking amount of power behind them. Arlosse then launched himself forward while activating another recently gained Kanva. === [Light Birr | Grade Rare] By coating your entire body in Spirit Essence, increase your speed by 25% per every singular lunge; in the process, become akin to an unseen breath of air. - Cost : 25 Spirit Essence === Arlosse indeed became akin to a breath of air the instant he flashed forward and before the enemies realized it, he had severed both their heads, one with the sharp edge of the Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward reinforced with his Spirit Essence, and the other with the Fickle Viper. As the two bodies dropped to the ground, Arlosse took a quick breath and then hurried towards the downed horse. On his approach, a hateful look appeared in the horse¡¯s eyes and frost seeped from its bloody mouth like clouds. Arlosse stopped in his tracks. He gulped. Right. He was a demon. The horse was probably wary of him, though he was sure it had seen him save it and its master. ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± he said and he stowed away the Fickle Viper and Valiant Subject¡¯s Ward into the Hermetic Vault and raised his hands. ¡°I don¡¯t mean you any harm.¡± The look in the horse¡¯s eyes relaxed slightly. Arlosse recognized within them a great deal of intelligence. It was no ordinary horse, and that went beyond just its uncanny powers. Arlosse took a slow step forward and his right hand was bathed in an orange light. ¡°I want to heal you. It will take some time, but I promise, you will get back to full health,¡± he said. The horse¡¯s eyes narrowed and the chill spewing from its mouth lessened. It allowed Arlosse to approach closer and closer until he was merely a meter away. The Incarnate crouched. The horse twitched nervously. ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± he said, looking at its hazel eyes which promised death if he acted outside the script. They also kept darting behind him, where its master was. Arlosse looked at the horse¡¯s wounds. There were several gashes, but all of them weren¡¯t too deep except for a particularly nasty one cutting across its chest; that one bled profusely. Arlosse placed his hand, livid with the light of Reform, over the gash. He tried to smile at the horse. ¡°It¡¯s uh¡­ It¡¯s going to take a while. Half an hour,¡± he said, and to his surprise the horse snorted with what sounded like suspicion and disbelief. ¡°Yes. I hate that as well. Believe me.¡± Anxiously, Arlosse looked around. Did he really have thirty minutes of calm here though, or was he going to have to use the time to earn the horse¡¯s trust and try to fully heal it a little later? Just as he wondered, a voice came from behind, startling him. ¡°You¡­ You¡­ demon¡­¡± Arlosse turned. The voice was coming from the heavily wounded hulking human warrior. His steed immediately tried to rush to him, but it buckled. The Incarnate persuaded the horse to settle down and turned, sweat dripping from his brow. ¡°Y-yes?¡± he said, shaking. ¡°You¡­ you can speak our tongue?¡± the hulking warrior asked, his eye, barely visible through his helm¡¯s visor, appraising his likeness and actions. Arlosse was stunned. He had opened his mouth to reply when a ferocious force blasted the ice wall around him and a malevolent presence washed in. A truly menacing demon stalked in, towering over the Incarnate by a full body. At once, Arlosse realized that this was the demon who had been responsible for the hulking human warrior¡¯s state. Chapter 38: Sacrifice The tall demon was adorned in a scale armor that featured bursts of rugged, brown fur at the joints of his steel bracers and just above his greaves. What looked like a scarf of braided blonde human hair was wound around his neck, pairing beautifully with his pale, yellow skin. The demon was rather handsome. He had sharp features on his face that were all nearly human-like except for two small extra eyes on either side of his face. His long, dark hair cast a shadow over his face and as he looked from the hulking warrior to Arlosse, his fury was unmistakable. The great, bloody battle axe in his hand was suddenly suffused by a raging crimson tide of energy the likes of which the Incarnate had yet to see on any demon, much less a weapon. ¡°What is going on here, hybrid?¡± he said in a sharp tone, his blood-red eyes constricting on Arlosse¡¯s figure. ¡°I desperately wish, for your sake, things are not as they appear.¡± Arlosse stammered. He wanted to speak and quickly explain, but something about this tall demon restricted him. His skin wriggled violently in warning, but in a sort of way it had never done before. His blood seemed to pool to his three hearts, making him freeze. Unconsciously, or perhaps consciously, he used the Host Guide to measure the prowess of the tall demon. === Name : Prevron Garldo Race : Flame-heart Demon --- STR : 56 AGI : 43 END : 41 --- Spirit Essence : 495 === Those attributes¡­ Flame-heart Demon¡­ Dear heavens...! The light of Reform vanished from Arlosse¡¯s hand. ¡°Hmm. It seems I wasn¡¯t mistaken after all,¡± the demon said and he raised his axe. ¡°Traitor.¡±This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Arlosse took a sharp breath. This was bad. Somehow, he couldn¡¯t move. He was surely going to die. SHIIICK! There was the sound of ripping flesh and then a roar of agony. A ghostly blade had stabbed into the flesh of the demon before Arlosse. The hulking human warrior on the ground seemed to have manifested the blade, but he didn¡¯t seem capable of a meaningful follow up as he remained lying down. The tall demon growled and turned to face the hulking warrior with immense hatred. The hulking warrior didn¡¯t meet his nasty gaze, however. He simply looked in Arlosse¡¯s direction and cried, ¡°Go!¡± The Hollow Demonling wasn¡¯t sure if he meant him or the horse, but it might have been the latter because the white horse whinnied mournfully and forced itself to stand. The tall demon raised his axe and plunged it ruthlessly into the hulking human warrior¡¯s chest. Blood splattered and the sound of gurgling agony came from the warrior. The white horse neighed loudly, a dark look in its eyes. The hulking warrior gripped the axe digging into him as he took short, rapid breaths, but he kept staring in Arlosse¡¯s direction, at his loyal steed. ¡°Go¡­¡± he said softly and his body suddenly turned radiant, greyish Spirit Essence wafting from it like a bunch of bulbous globes of light. Arlosse instantly knew that something explosively catastrophic was about to happen, as did the tall demon whose face turned paler than normal. The Incarnate felt a sharp tug from behind; his dirty, burnt tunic was dragged backward, faster than the wind, and he found himself rapidly leaving the scene with heavy gallops sounding beside him. BOOOM! A powerful detonation ensued in Arlosse¡¯s vision, cocking up dust, bringing immense heat, and crushing the ground hollow. He had no idea what the hulking human warrior had done, but he was sure he wouldn¡¯t have survived it if he had stayed in range. Goodness¡­ Did that tall, scary demon survive though? The dust and heavy mirage hid the facts. The white horse galloped for what seemed like an eternity, tramping human and demon alike as it went. It must have crossed nearly two kilometers across the dry lands before coming to a halt and dropping Arlosse on the ground with very little care. The Demonling rose and looked behind him. The white horse had plopped on the hot, rocky ground, and in its eyes was a terrible, furious light. Arlosse had no words. What was he to make of this situation? Tearing himself from his reverie, he quickly assessed the surroundings. There were a lot of corpses and not many living creatures too close by. Of course, he spotted a few demons racing after humans from behind the many rocky protrusions lifting from the ground. ¡®When does this end?¡¯ Arlosse thought to himself before realizing the irony in that question. He knew more than most when it ended: It never did. War had no end. He turned back to the horse. It huffed angrily, bursts of chill snorting from its nostrils. There was a strange human element to its emotion. It was gnashing its teeth, half of which were missing. Evidently, it was mourning, but it had shown enough awareness and intelligence to run and drag Arlosse away from the blast radius of the hulking warrior¡¯s sacrificial attack before. ¡°Uh¡­¡± Arlosse said as he drew closer to the horse. The creature immediately pierced him with a wrathful look. There were no bits of loyalty in those eyes. Of course, Arlosse expected that. ¡°Look. There are still a lot of enemies about. We have to find a place to hide for a bit. I¡¯ll heal you up then,¡± he said. The horse snorted and looked away. He seemed to not heed Arlosse¡¯s words at first, but then he started to get up only to drop to the ground, grunting in pain. ¡°I¡¯ll carry you for now,¡± Arlosse immediately proposed. He was confident he would be able to carry the horse despite it looking as though it weighed a ton and a half; it was also quite broad and tall, which would make it difficult for any man, nomatter how strong, to carry it. A few moments later, Arlosse heaved the white horse over his head, his feet sinking slightly into the sun-baked ground. He started running as fast as he could away from the nearing demons and humans. He didn¡¯t intend to run too far as that would only lead him towards other enemies. His goal was to find a stone pillar that worked as a blind spot for most of the fighting that remained. He could then settle there and take a breather while killing his pursuers silently. It didn¡¯t take long for Arlosse to find a semi-suitable pillar. Quite frankly, he hadn¡¯t wanted to continue lugging the white horse any longer in the wretched heat. He dropped the horse firmly behind the four-meter-wide pillar and plopped to the ground, panting. The horse whinnied, a cloud of frost leaving its mouth. Arlosse gave it an appraising look. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of demons still following us. I¡¯ll deal with them and then¡­¡± Arlosse had begun, but was forced to a stop. He noticed that there was a hollow in the pillar and part of a greave was poking out of it, trembling vehemently. There was someone in there! Arlosse drew the Fickle Viper and hurried towards the hole, the sword brandished before him. Perhaps sensing his decisive approach, a human figure immediately popped out of the hole and dived to his knees, begging desperately. ¡°Please! Please! Don¡¯t kill me! I¡¯ll do anything!¡± Chapter 39: For The Shard I A young human soldier had appeared, begging for his life, tears spilling from his eyes. But then those eyes bulged at the sight of Arlosse. The soldier shook and retreated to the side of the protrusion, looking as though he¡¯d seen a ghost. The degree of terror in his eyes intensified tenfold. Arlosse raised a brow. What had this young man expected to see when he leaped out pleading for his life? Was he, Arlosse, that ugly? The Incarnate looked closely at the trembling mess of a man. He had dirty blonde hair, a square-ish face and downturned, brown eyes. He was wearing a surprisingly high-quality armour. It didn¡¯t look as though it had weathered through any conflict at all in the last three hours and however long the battle had been raging on before Arlosse showed up. Curious¡­ The Incarnate didn¡¯t let his guard down at the sight of this human, but he didn¡¯t feel enough of a threat from him to keep his sword pointing at his face. He scoffed. ¡°You look like you haven¡¯t spent a day on the battlefield in your entire life.¡± At once, the terrified human soldier trembled vehemently, the fear in his eyes cast aside and replaced by shock. ¡°You¡­ you¡­ can speak the same¡­¡± he stammered while pointing a shaky finger at Arlosse. ¡°You can speak our tongue?!¡± Arlosse reeled. ¡°Well¡­¡± he set to speak when realisation dawned on him. The hulking warrior had been saying the same thing before the tall demon, Prevron, had intruded. Arlosse¡¯s mind hadn¡¯t lingered on this detail long enough afterwards because of the fear the came in that moment, but he started to realise how stupid he had been to not take this into account. He ran his fingers through his hair. It seemed to help him think. The Host Guide had a habit of making him understand things that would otherwise take decades of learning or at least a couple minutes of strict teaching. He hadn¡¯t thought this applied to his interaction with this world, or perhaps worlds? Communication was essential. Arlosse hadn¡¯t considered how he was able to speak to Alabas. At the time, it simply felt as though he was speaking the language he remembered from his past life, and that Alabas was doing the same, but now that he thought about it, that wasn¡¯t the case. The sensation was similar, but the words that left his mouth weren¡¯t the same per se.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Arlosse slapped his own face. He had been hearing humans calling out things like, ¡°Retreat to the Clerics!¡± but he didn¡¯t once question if he, as a demon, should have been able to understand them at all. It was clear now that demons and humans didn¡¯t have the same language ¨C as obvious as it should have been from the start. Arlosse looked at the white horse. He realised that he had been talking to it all this time and it had been understanding his words. So, the Host Guide ensured that he could converse with the language the individual he was talking to was familiar with? Since the horse was likely bred by humans, that was probably why the hulking rider had been able to hear him speaking to it in the human language. On seeing him look to the side, the young human warrior followed the Demonling¡¯s gaze and saw the scowling white horse which in turn gave him a glare. He yelped and jumped back. ¡°Oh, blessed Verdance! That¡­ that is Tenet Commander Ryland¡¯s horse! What did you do?!¡± the young warrior cried. Arlosse frowned. Instead of answering the young man¡¯s question, he narrowed his eyes and gripped his frail neck, pushing him against the rocky protrusion. The young warrior turned paler. ¡°Tell me. What exactly is the reason behind this war? What¡¯s the Shard?¡± he asked. The young warrior¡¯s fear was once again substituted for something else; this time it was confusion. ¡°W-what? What do you mean?¡± ¡°You heard me. What¡¯s the reason for this war? Why are the demons and humans fighting?¡± Arlosse asked again, this time bringing his face closer to that of the young man. The young warrior was stumped. He wanted to satisfy his loot of questions with answers first, but obviously, he didn¡¯t have that luxury. ¡°How¡­ How can you not know what¡¯s going on? Y-you¡¯re a hybrid! Your people were informed enough to try and hurry ahead of us and so were we; we met your approach with our own! What else is there to tell?!¡± he cried with slight indignation. Arlosse frowned deeper. It didn¡¯t seem like he was being encouraging enough. He didn¡¯t have time to preface his questions with a ¡°Hello, I¡¯m new here, you see. Came for a bit of fresh air from the country¡± or a ¡°I¡¯m a special kind of friendly demon from overseas. Could I get to know why I¡¯ve suddenly joined my distant kin in slaughtering your kind?¡± Thus, Arlosse caused the Fickle Viper in his hand to extend and coil around the young man¡¯s neck. At the same time, he released his grip on the soldier¡¯s neck. With a thought, the sword¡¯s coiled blade began closing in on the young man¡¯s throat. He shuddered in fright. ¡°You should know I won¡¯t hesitate to kill you,¡± Arlosse said and glanced at the white horse. It didn¡¯t seem to care; thank goodness. ¡°If you want to live a little longer, start talking. Explain as though you are telling a child who knows nothing about the status quo.¡± This seemed to work wonders. At once, the young man, after yelling, ¡°Alright! Alright!¡± started to explain more clearly. He gave a vaguely hateful look at the Hollow Demonling and spoke. ¡°T-there is a relic, some kind of artefact ¨C no one knows what it really is ¨C that was said to have been left behind by the greatest and holiest human Emperor to have ever lived, Triayt the Unbecoming. He was a s-strong warrior. Signs of his strength are abundant across our lands. But, he was also known as a wise and upright man. He was the only Emperor in history to have driven away you filt-, the demons completely out of human territory! When he perished of old age, he generously left his wealth, carefully divided across all the human nations, but the objects of his strength, his weapons and all, he kept completely hidden.¡± Arlosse frowned. ¡°Is that right?¡± he said. The young man nodded furiously. Arlosse scoffed and beckoned him to continue. He wanted to ensure the young man didn¡¯t feed him falsehoods by causing him to falter to fear at least once. ¡°Uh¡­ Emperor Triayt recognised human nature better than most, I suppose. He knew just how much hatred ran between humans and demons. Even if victory had come in his reign, he was sure either of us ¨C humans and demons ¨C would strike at the other if for no better reason than to rid the other from the world.¡± ¡°However ¨C most say this was foolhardy, and I do too ¨C Triayt¡­ hid some kind of powerful relic which he called the Last Shard in a place that was yet unknown and told his successor, as well as a certain demon from back then, that this relic would one day deliver the world and end the struggle between our two races; that its purpose and location would be revealed at the right time. Well, now the location of this relic had been revealed. That is the cause for this war.¡± Chapter 40: For The Shard II Arlosse snorted. ¡°Now¡¯s the right time?¡± he said, but his thoughts were busy with everything else that the young human warrior had said. A great human Emperor? The mention of another authority figure spurred Arlosse¡¯s mind. This place, the entirety of the ten Floors he was supposed to go through, was called Bahathraden, the Compound Demesne of Fallen Authorities. Did it mean that the nature of each Floor would revolve around an authoritative figure? A King, a Queen, an Emperor, a Lord, a Prince and whatnot? That seemed to be the theme. But this Triayt the Unbecoming was long dead. Did that mean Arlosse didn¡¯t have to interact with the authority in focus within the Floor? Was he, perhaps, meant to grapple with the ideals left behind by Triayt? The story the young warrior had shared so far, was livid with Triayt¡¯s ideals. The bastard had actually informed the demons about this relic, the Last Shard, which he had hidden away to ¡®deliver the world¡¯. What did that even mean? But then¡­ ¡®I¡¯m a demon. Where am I supposed to stand exactly?¡¯ Arlosse thought. He was dragged out of his thoughts by the eternally confused look on the young human warrior¡¯s face. He was probably still suspicious about Arlosse really being clueless about what was going on, and the Incarnate preferred it that way, though he could see that this probably wasn¡¯t going to last for very long. He poked the young man¡¯s throat with a finger. ¡°Continue. How did you all figure now was the right time?¡± The young man massaged his neck and then spoke. ¡°The Verdance revealed the location of the Last Shard through one of our Priests and we readied our armies immediately.¡± ¡°Wait? The Verdance? What¡¯s that?¡± The young man gaped and the suspicious look on his face grew more pronounced. ¡°How can you not know the Verdance? Don¡¯t your kind run away from their magnificence like the dogs?¡± he said with a small, mocking smile. Arlosse scowled and had been about to threaten the young man with the shrinking of the Fickle Viper around his neck when he thought back to the brilliant staves the Clerics had been holding. What had they called the light that burst from them again? ¡°Does it have to do with the Abundant Radiance?¡± Arlosse asked.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. The young man gaped with an even deeper look of confusion on his face. ¡°Are you¡­ are you sure you are a demon?¡± he asked. ¡°You know. I¡¯m getting hungry. I think I¡¯ll take a bite off your arm. You¡¯re not going to be needing it anymore anyway.¡± ¡°Alright! Alright!¡± the young man shuddered and tried to draw back only for his neck to kiss the Fickle Viper and bleed. ¡°The Verdance is the divine, merciful being who guides us. They are a brilliant deity of light¡­ and your worst enemy.¡± ¡°I see,¡± Arlosse said. A cold feeling ran through his stomach. In his previous life, there was no evidence of deities. He had even shunned the heretics who made sacrifices to imaginary gods. Here, they were real. Feeling uneasy, Arlosse changed the subject. ¡°If only your people ¨C humans ¨C knew the location of the Last Shard, how did the demons catch wind of it? How are you fighting over this right now?¡± ¡°Because there was a spy for the demons among us, someone who managed to get into the inner circle of undisclosed knowledge and informed the demons!¡± the young man said with a great, furious huff. ¡°Thankfully, we captured the son of a lump of dung and made him confess what he told your people! He had shared the location of the Last Shard and the route we were going to use to reach it without drawing the demons¡¯ attention.¡± Arlosse narrowed his eyes. An informant? ¡°If that¡¯s the case, the demons should have reached the Last Shard by now. Why is there even a battle, or one of this scale at least?¡± he asked. The young man donned a grin. ¡°Because we have an informant of our own, and he¡¯s still undiscovered! Your Generals must have already realised! He gave us detailed information about the path you were going to use and so we struck first,¡± he said. Arlosse shook his head. So that¡¯s how it was. Arlosse was more intrigued than baffled, though, which wasn¡¯t the reaction the young warrior had expected him to show. ¡°Still,¡± the Incarnate said, rubbing his chin. ¡°I can¡¯t imagine a slow army was the best choice to use to approach the location of the Last Shard. There¡¯s second battlefield somewhere out there, isn¡¯t there?¡± The young warrior turned a little stiff and nodded a short while later. Both the humans and demons must have sent quicker, smaller squads to go on ahead while the rest of the army followed. Arlosse frowned. Speaking of the armies though¡­ If the humans knew how the demons were going to respond with the information they had been given, it was strange to him that they mobilised a whole army to meet that of the demons. Ideally, the priority must have been to get the Last Shard before the demons and put no more effort into nothing else. But, perhaps the humans¡¯ informant was a little late in giving them the news, meaning their response was a little late still. Yet even with that, why? Was it to stall the demon army, giving their advance forces a better chance? Were the humans just itching to go to war with the demons that much, to use the surprise attack as a chance to get rid of their forces? Maybe the demons were planning to do the same after they acquired the Last Shard. Arlosse didn¡¯t know which it was, but it didn¡¯t seem as though either of the two forces¡¯ advance groups had found the Last Shard yet. He looked at the young human warrior. He was looking back intently. Arlosse wished he could say he saw himself in the young man, but he didn¡¯t. He saw something else though. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± he asked. ¡°Why¡­ why do you want to know?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t make me ask again.¡± The young man frowned. ¡°Castor. Castor Von Hide,¡± he said. ¡°Right, Castor. You come from a good family, don¡¯t you? That¡¯s why you¡¯re so informed about ¡®undisclosed information¡¯, right?¡± Castor¡¯s face turned red hot with might have been embarrassment, fury or both. ¡°What about it? I¡¯m not soft. I was able to heavily injure even a¡­¡± he suddenly stopped and simmered down like cooled water. ¡°Injure what?¡± Arlosse said with a brow raised. At that moment, the white horse whinnied. Arlosse turned and saw the horse giving beckoning him with its gaze. It then pointed with its snout at the wound on its chest. ¡°Right,¡± Arlosse said. He was supposed to heal the damn thing. With the context he had now, he supposed the reason the horse saved him from being blown to bits by its master was so he could heal it as he had said he would. It seemed that him speaking in the human tongue, saving the horse and also its master, and earned him that much in trust. It wasn¡¯t loyalty, but it counted for something. That was what Arlosse thought at least. ¡°Stay here¡­ Castor,¡± Arlosse said, but kept the Fickle Viper threatening to clench fatally around his neck. He had taken steps towards the white horse when he felt a hot breeze on his chest. It was bare. His tunic had received a blast of some kind of fire earlier and gotten burnt. ¡®I need a change of clothes,¡¯ Arlosse thought and he looked around at the wide assortments of fancy and otherwise armour strewn about with the many corpses. Chapter 41: Demon Types Arrows were starting to become Arlosse¡¯s most hated form of weaponry. On top of the fact that he wasn¡¯t too good at using the bow in his past life, the fact that he was constantly brushing against death even now because of incoming, lithe projectiles only served to fuel his bias against the long-range weapon. Arlosse had managed to kill him in the end, but an especially skilled human archer had nearly got him in the eye right when he was looting equipment off the corpses. The thought of the sharp arrowhead so close that it could graze his cornea bumped into Arlosse¡¯s mind. He shuddered. Coincidentally, the white horse did as well. It had been five minutes since Arlosse had begun using Reform on the ghastly injury on its chest. He was sitting beside the horse, his arm already starting to complain of numbness. Twenty-five minutes more remained till the great horse was healed, and it didn¡¯t seem nearly as patient as Arlosse¡¯s stiff arm. The Hollow Demonling sighed. ¡®At least I¡¯m better protected now. By some margin,¡¯ he thought, and he checked the brass-coloured cuirass he wore over a dusty leather jerkin. The corpses around the protrusion he, the white horse, and Castor were hiding behind had some choice pieces of equipment, even though most of them were ripped or burned by the same blows that took their lives. Unfortunately, all of these sets were heavily damaged to the extent that the Enchantments and attributes imbued within them were rendered inactive. Skullius only managed to salvage two barely working pieces of equipment. Around his forearms, Arlosse wore a set of steel and leather bracers that offered 8 points to his Endurance, and his legs were protected by greaves and tough boots made from the skin of some creature he could not identify. They added 5 to his Strength and 6 to his Agility. ¡®I guess the killing blows the owners received didn¡¯t damage the legs or arms, but still¡­¡¯ Arlosse thought. For now, these served well for him. It was better than the burnt tunic he had been wearing. ¡°So, Castor¡­¡± he said, and the young human warrior flinched. Even with his varying thoughts about Arlosse, he never forgot to be vigilant and afraid. ¡°As you are very informed and, of course, learned, how about you tell me all you know about demons? You called me a Hybrid earlier. What does that mean?¡± Castor¡¯s face turned into something like crumpled paper. At first, the young man had been willing to reconcile with Arlosse¡¯s ignorance as long as it was attributed to him being some kind of demon born outside the lands he (Castor) knew. Castor had imagined that perhaps Arlosse had just arrived on the battlefield, led by some vague clue he found on the way from home. It was far-fetched, but it helped him come to terms with how a demon wasn¡¯t privy to even the Verdance. He was forced to doubt even that line of thinking now. After a heavy, painful sigh, he began to explain. It was no use gasping at Arlosse¡¯s more advanced forms of ignorance. ¡°As far as I know, there are four kinds of demons, and all of them are identified and ranked by the purity of their blood. Royal Bloods, Dark Bloods, Hybrids, and Scatter Bloods. Royal Bloods have the purest demon blood, and Scatter Bloods have the most diluted, unclean blood.¡± Arlosse squinted his eyes. He found this explanation rather lackluster.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. If Scatter Bloods had diluted blood, why wasn¡¯t he considered one? The word Hybrid referred to some kind of mix, after all. Of course, the term Hybrid could have also referred to¡­ ¡°Judging by your explanation, I¡¯m assuming you omitted the part where a Hybrid is a special kind of Scatter Blood, right? A Hybrid is a mix between human and demon, isn¡¯t it?¡± Arlosse said. To his surprise, Castor didn¡¯t rush to affirm his deduction or gape at it at the very least. The second sigh he gave told a lot about his resignation at wondering and questioning how Arlosse had to be taught things like this. The young human warrior had seen the look in Arlosse¡¯s eyes. It was said the eyes were windows to the soul. Castor was forced to admit. In Arlosse¡¯s soul, he saw no deceit. He might as well have been teaching a man who had been living in a cave for all his life. ¡°That¡¯s sort of true, I suppose. But it¡¯s a lot more complicated than that,¡± he said and he hugged his legs while resting his back on the wall of the stone protrusion. There have been humans who have mated with demons and vice versa, and their spawn is given the name Hybrid, but the term is older and much more nuanced than simple cross-breeding between mature demons and humans.¡± Arlosse frowned. ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± ¡°It¡¯s believed that in the very beginning of all things, there was only soils ¨C the land ¨C and precious waters of life. The two made up the world, and it was a conscious being, full to bursting with supernatural potential. But being such a vast and simple thing, the world did not understand how to give all its potential greater, more profound form. Eventually, it settled upon turning its energy into seeds. They were buried in the soils and watered by the seas.¡± ¡°But as much as the land was bountiful and the waters from the sea plenty, there was just too much seed. Every seed of every kind of living thing that exists today was pressed against each other in those days before they matured. It¡¯s said that the majority of Scatter Bloods were formed this way. Some were pressed against the seeds of different kinds of insects, and plants and common beasts for too long, and thus their traits bled into each other. Some demon seeds pressed against those of humans, and when they matured, they became Hybrids. Many still, the more potent seeds of demon kind, retained their purity against the odds: the Royal Bloods.¡± ¡°Is this some kind of folktale?¡± Arlosse said. He couldn¡¯t take this story seriously, and he felt justified in that. ¡°It¡¯s true! It makes all the sense in the world!¡± Castor snapped at him. Arlosse imagined it must have been a story a cherished member of his family used to tell him, given his reaction. The young man was, in fact, young. ¡°Is that right? Then what about humans? How come there are no different kinds of Scatter Blood humans?¡± asked Arlosse. Castor scoffed. ¡°Because humans had the lightest seeds of all. Save for a few, we made the topmost layer of the collection. We were barely tainted. Even the Hybrids that came about because of us weren¡¯t many at all. Human and demon blood is highly incompatible. In the present generations, no spawn of human and demon lives long. They have to be especially lucky to live.¡± When he said this, Castor made it a point to emphasize with his look that he suspected Arlosse to be one such lucky kind. Arlosse picked up on it, but he knew it was irrelevant. He didn¡¯t come about because of some human and demon mating. Disregarding the matter, he continued to argue the validity of Castor¡¯s story. ¡°Why is it that humans have the lightest seed? Is there an explanation or did the person who fabricated this story not bother with a reason?¡± he said. ¡°Of course, there¡¯s a reason!¡± Castor hissed and then he smirked. ¡°It¡¯s because we have a natural, perfect affinity for the world and all that is in it. That¡¯s why the Verdance, which is a part of the world accepts us and shuns you. You are susceptible to evil and have no affinity for the natural riches of the world. It¡¯s said that the world pressed the dregs of its potential ¨C the seeds of your kind ¨C deeper into the soil so that it would be harder for you to mature.¡± ¡°There¡¯s a lot of said in your explanation,¡± Arlosse said with a sigh. Because of his past life, he never liked it when he received second or third-hand information. There was usually a bloody end attached to taking such a message at face value. To him, it was only natural for a young man, fresh on the battlefield like Castor, to still believe folktales beginning or ending in said and told. ¡°What does that matter?¡± Castor said sharply, his brows furrowing. ¡°Dark Bloods are all the evidence you need to prove that demons are attracted to hidden taboos in the world. Humans can handle blasphemous powers like sorcery, but only demons can thrive while using them.¡± Arlosse was taken aback. ¡°Did you say sorcery?¡±