《The Wandering Sword's Apocalypse Event [A litRPG, Progression fantasy epic.].》


 Chapter 1: Beautiful Girls and Dungeons

    The three clowns came out of nowhere with their intense green gem light, dressed like they were going for a halloween party in the middle of February. For a moment, the two girls looked his way and he sucked in a breath. Then he was cursing and sounding his horn. If that wasn''t enough, the red and blue and annoying blare coming from behind him should have warned sixteen-year-old Rafael Kingsley this was not a normal night.


    He was going too fast, so he couldn''t stop in time even after he''d seen those weird cosplayers. He decided to swerve like an idiot.


    His Porsche skidded, uncontrollable. The grating sound of rubber on gravel assaulted his ears and made his brain ring.


    The sirens were loud in the distance, bright red and blue reflecting off his driver''s mirror, black and white streaking after him. It was a small mercy he couldn''t see any other cars this late in the night. He wrestled with his wheel, doing his best to stop the slide slipping. Why was the patrol guy still blaring his damn sirens, couldn''t he see Rafe was trying his best to stop the crash?


    He ignored the sirens for now, a vice grip on the wheel and all his considerable lower body strength focused on the brakes.


    He didn''t crash into the rails, and all that skidding was well worth it.


    ¡°...shiiiit¡­ did I just perform my first real-life drift? Is that what a drift feels like?¡±


    His chest hurt, heart throbbing, lungs rising and falling like a bellows.


    The knocking on the passenger side window roused him. He winced when he noticed the one and only officer of the law in little old Crosshill town. With an imperceptible sigh, he rolled down the window, trying to mimic that charming smile that little sophomore bastard had. He almost swore that little shit must have used that same smile to get to Sandra. And the whole team had known Rafe wanted her back, he''d told them as much.


    ¡°Rafael Kingsley¡­¡± the man almost whispered the name, but Rafe heard him. ¡°What has gotten into you of late?! I was just on my way to your house after receiving reports of some kind of party, and then I find you in the middle of a suicide attempt?¡±


    Suicide attempt? Rafe inwardly scoffed. It was those weirdos in the middle of the street, and they hadn''t even reacted when he hooted. And that damn party¡ª


    ¡°Come on, mister Anderson. It was those weirdos back there who¡­¡±


    He couldn''t believe his eyes. They weren''t there anymore. Sure, it was a little dark now, but he''d seen them clear as day. There had been two women dressed in some weird shit he couldn''t quite recall. Then what he could only hope was a man built like an oak and dressed in medieval knights'' armour. It had been so clear.


    Even the greenish gems that had near blinded him were gone now. Well they weren''t the only blinding things. How weirdos got all the hot ones, he couldn''t help but wonder.


    Officer Anderson turned around to scan the street as well. He turned back to Rafe with a skeptical look.


    ¡°Let me smell your breath kid.¡±


    And before Rafe could react the man had leaned forward and sniffed his open mouth, open in disbelief over what he couldn''t see.


    There was no way the weirdos had escaped. There was nothing but the road for as far as the eye could see. On the one side was an ascending cliff, and on the other a rail that protected cars and pedestrians from falling down the rise. There was nowhere to go on this stretch of hill, that Rafe knew of.


    ¡°Jesus Christ, kid! What is going on with you? Why the hell did you even throw a party tonight? You lost, again! Your team crashed out of the tournament, for all I''m aware.¡±


    Rafe still could not get his mind off the life-like hallucinations he''d just seen. He hadn''t cared about the women''s clothing, because of their beautiful, distracting faces. That makeup made them look otherworldly. He probably would have seen about getting some for Sandra, if they had been real. Their faces gleamed, their eyes shone, one the blue of the ocean, and their pupils were gigantic, the most elaborate contacts he''d ever seen.


    But now he could remember one wearing what looked like a sword. What was in those drinks, he couldn''t help but wonder. When had a little smoke ever flown him so high?


    ¡°I''m going to be telling your aunt about this, you hear me?¡±


    This finally got his attention. He frowned at the man, wondering why he was so obsessed with the damn woman. If he loved her so much, why hadn''t he asked her out when she was still here?


    He scoffed. ¡°Yeah, good luck with that. Maybe she won''t even ignore your call this time. She probably knows it''s you too. She is just not interested.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°She is not interested in you!¡± he screamed.


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    The officer took a step back and looked at him with wide eyes, seeing something, noticing something. Yeah, Rafe thought smugly, I know. He didn''t know what he knew, but he knew it was important. He should be happy he knew what he knew, but¡ª


    "She is not interested¡­¡± he said in a small voice. ¡°Not in you, in me, in this damn hill. She''s like them, they just left me here.¡±


    By the end, his sight had gone blurry, his head too heavy that his chin now rested on his chest. He heard the officer sigh, then head over and pat him on the head.


    ¡°She will come back champ. She stayed in this place twenty-five years, it''s her home.¡±


    It was her home, Rafe thought until he''d showed up and somehow drove her from it. It didn''t even surprise him she''d left. He only wished he''d known why. He''d tried so hard to be a good guest because he wasn''t going to stay here forever. At least he wasn''t supposed to.


    "I think I''ll be keeping your car for a while until I can get in touch with any adults in charge of you.¡±


    Yeah, Rafe wasn''t holding his breath. He''d get his car back in a week or two after the officer gave up on trying to contact his family. Now he had the problem of having to get back home on foot somehow.


    Only, did he want to go back home to that damn ghost house? It was isolated, even for a place as isolated as Crosshill town, and it was big and there was no one there but him. Well, no one most nights. Tonight, he''d left Charlie sucking Sandra''s face in his room.


    That little shit! He didn''t have the concept of teamwork in him. Sure he had more skill in basketball, and maybe he even had hopes of going pro one day, but he was the reason the team had lost the whole year. If Rafe had been on that court¡ª


    What would he have done? He sighed loudly. The guy is one year younger, and he stole his number. Because he was better. The only reason Rafe would ever play was because he was reliable and predictable. He knew the rules and all the basics, and almost nothing else. His play style was boring, even he would admit to himself. Now that same guy stole his girl even as he watched.


    He watched the officer chain his car. He couldn''t afford to witness anymore, he''d lost too much in one night. He heard the officer''s car start, but he didn''t turn.


    Unconsciously, his feet led him to that place where he''d seen the hallucinations. He didn''t know how he knew they''d been there, he just knew. There was nothing there now. The rumbling of the engine receded. Rafe sighed and turned around to start the trek home. No one was going to help him clean the stupid house, after all.


    A green light flashed in front of him. Tracing its path, he found that it was coming from behind him, from that same spot. He gulped, nervous for some unknown reason.


    He turned at once, searching every part of the street, frantic, almost manic. There was nothing. He sighed. Why the hell was he seeing things?


    He turned around and walked straight into two otherworldly beautiful women and a giant in a suit of armour.


    He didn''t immediately walk into them. He walked into the bright green gem light. He would have stopped then but for his momentum. The next thing he knew he was stuck in what he could only describe as an invisible lake, roughcast, and him somehow forgetting how to swim. He floundered, flailed, tried to right himself. He failed.


    He drowned without pain, at first. And then it felt like his whole body was on fire, and tiny worms were moving and biting him with the tiniest mandibles, and his head was pounding, and his body was torn into a thousand pieces, and the smallest bit of an electric shock, only it was perennial, and¡ª


    He landed on the rough ground on all fours. It was rough and hot, and even the palm of his hands were scratched and charred. His jeans were torn around the knees, and his knees smarted.


    His breath was rough, and his internal pains still echoed, like he''d been roasted from the inside. He heard a gasp and a shout that could only be a warning. He opened his eyes and stared into two shocked faces. They would have been three if the giant didn''t have a helmet covering his face, he was sure.


    What faces they had, those women. One had flowing lilac hair and matching eyes and the other had the most beautiful blue hair.


    Something flashed red in the corner of his vision, the only reason he took his eyes off the group. There was a blue screen in front of him, like a computer screen with an outdated user interface, although it was flashing red for some reason.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ You have entered the Deufont Dungeon.


    ¡®Warning! Warning! Warning!


    User: Rafael Kingsley


    Race: Human


    Status: Marked For Tutorial


    Warning: Your level is too low for this dungeon. You are advised to exit it at your earliest convenience.


    There were more messages too, from what he could see, but something distracted him. He had only looked away from the triad for a fraction of a second, but one was already gone.


    And she was approaching him. The woman with the lilac hair and matching eyes, and he couldn''t follow her movements with his eyes. His heartbeat skyrocketed, and it wasn''t in anticipation.


    He didn''t even get to feel pain, but he was able to follow her last movement. She set her feet, then lifted one off the ground in an impossible show of flexibility. The leg kept climbing up and up, and then it descended.


    The first thing he noticed when he came to was that he couldn''t feel the pain, or much of anything really. Then the pain of being in that lake, but this time it was magnified.


    His eyes, or at least one of them, were not working. His eye sight was red. It was all red. He turned his sight to his left somehow, to the blue screen that was still blaring out warnings. This time the warning seemed different though.


    ¡®Warning! Warning! Warning!


    Dying status effect applied.¡¯


    He was dying. He''d suspected it, but it was much harder to come to grips with. It didn''t matter though. The pain from the lake, the thousand microbreaks of bone, the tiny electric shocks, they had lasted longer than before, and they would continue for as long as he lived. Dying wouldn''t be too bad, if it could save him from this and the pain he was sure to go through should the pain of his head injury decide to rear it''s head.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ You have entered the Deufont Dungeon Dung...


    ¡®Ding¡¯ conditions met:


    Low level user critically injured in a high level challenge.


    User, Rafael Kingsley, has been invited to the skyholm legacy trial.


    Would you like to accept, Y/N?

 Chapter 2. A Legacy Of Gods(1)

    Thinking is overrated. What was there to think about anyway? On one side you have death, as a sixteen-year-old virgin, and on the other you have life. Sure, there is pain too, and a trial, but life.


    Rafe had never been good at tests, but maybe he could cheat off someone. Maybe they could heal him before the test too.


    He didn''t have enough time to come up with expectations, but his pain seeming to vanish into thin air was a wonderful result.


    His vision was no longer impaired, yet he had no idea what he was seeing.


    There was a man, a boy really, a bit younger than his sixteen years even, broken beyond repair. The boy was covered in blood, his own and an enemy''s. An enemy whom he''d left behind him dead and cut to pieces.


    Death stalked the boy who had fought what looked like a giant rat. Rafe watched something separate itself from the beast, something that seemed both spiritual and physical. How he knew it was spiritual, he couldn''t tell.


    All he knew was that it oozed out among the beast''s blood, but there was an ethereal quality to it that he would never have confused with blood. It oozed toward the crawling boy. All but one of the boy''s limbs were at the wrong angle, but he still had the desire to survive, to live.


    When the ooze made contact with him, he screamed. Then the scene in front of him changed, and instead, there were two boys.


    It took him a second to recognize the second figure, with its head caved in on one side like it had been halved, a bit of brain matter leaking. Blood flowed over it. His poor body was like a rug being wrung.


    Rafe Kingsley gulped. His clothes had been cut up by something, and¡­it was sickening. His poor ¡®beautiful¡¯ face, his painstakingly developed physique. He was almost dead. But then the ethereal ooze made contact with his body, and then he screamed in tandem with the boy he did not know.


    All his pains came back, but it almost seemed like he''d miraculously received an increased pain capacity, or at least an increased perception of it. He could feel it all, and so much more. He could feel every little break in the smallest bone, every painful twitch in the smallest muscle, and the blood and sweat flowing on his skin. He could feel his cracked skull. He could feel his brain going into shock even though he knew he had somehow survived death.


    He knew his brain was shutting down, and maybe that was why he paid so much attention to the visions playing out in front of him. Impossible visions.


    Visions of dreams, of fantasy, magic, realms unimaginable.


    The first was of a familiar young man, now a few years older. He held a sword in his hands, and he swung it with the most beautiful form. But it was the colour he shorn, the light he gave off that was his true power.


    It was magic, violent light. His brown hair shone a vibrant stellar silver, and his eyes twinkled like a night sky. His skin looked like that of a sun, and when he ran towards his enemy the ground cracked.


    The first Skyholm, the first guardian, the aspect of the transcendent light, the sword, the lost weapon, and four others. But his path had been mostly built on an innate ability he''d been born with. A curse in some ways, but a blessing in so many more.


    In the scene he saw, the boy fought a man who was stronger than him, older. Still, he made the first move, a streak of light attacking a staff-wielding juggernaut. The weapons clashed, and the boy was thrown back, but so too was the older man.


    The older man smirked - perhaps trying to save face - then covered his body in a layer of crackling lightning as he attempted to take the boy down.


    The boy might have been weaker, but Rafe couldn''t make sense of his battle instincts. They clashed for a few minutes, too fast for Rafe to follow most of the exchanges, but then he could almost follow them for a few seconds.


    The staff wielder feinted right, making the boy dodge toward the left where the man''s fist waited with a coating of lightning. It was a very good feint, but the boy, the first Skyholm, bent his body impossibly without even seeing what was coming, the fist only taking a piece of his robe. The staff made a comeback immediately on his right, but the boy was already jumping into close range with what looked like lightning on his fist, albeit it was weaker than the man''s.


    It connected, and didn''t do much, but it enraged the man. And the few seconds he was able to follow flowed like that. It almost seemed like the boy was trying to close his eyes even, like his eyes were getting in the way.


    And that lightning, Rafe thought, the weaker one the boy was wielding. It was from his aspect of the lost weapon, the ooze that had bound his soul.


    He did not know how he knew these things, or even what an aspect was.


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    Seeing another scene begin before his eyes had him sighing in relief, although he didn''t know why.


    The second Skyholm. The best thief the universe ever saw. A lowly adventurer in her world early on, only joining a few parties because she had a rare storage ability. Her affinity with shadows was so high. High enough that she was able to combine her soul with her shadow, and with her storage ability to build an inner world.


    That was what led him to her, the universe''s best soul architect. He had gotten curious after hearing of her daring, daring to risk potential soul damage to create something special. According to the information he had, even after her death, her shadow verse should still exist.


    In the scene he saw, the woman tried to escape from a world-sized city. The building she was in was the central palace. Trapped she was, surrounded, cornered, in a building of violet sand crystals that must have absorbed light during the day so they could shine perpetually through the night. There were lots of shadows, but there was much more light. And it seemed they were expecting her.


    She sighed and grabbed two tiny knives from sheathes hidden somewhere on her body. A golden armoured man stepped forward from among the men surrounding her little nook.


    She smiled seductively, her black hair neatly knotted behind her head. The trash talk was blocked out, although Rafe wasn''t sure by whom, or why. When the two combatants met, it was obvious the man was stronger. But the smile never left the woman''s face, even when a wickedly sharp gladius came for her neck after not even thirty seconds of battle.


    He cut her down. And as the blood flew into the air, it turned dark, and the falling corpse turned black too. They all turned into shadows.


    ¡°A shadow clone? But¡­ she wasn''t robbing the central palace then?¡± the leader asked no one in particular.


    ¡°But, the information said she was going to steal the most important thing in our possession. What could she¡­?¡±


    And Rafe watched the minute the man realized something. He had only turned to shout instructions when the alarms started to blare.


    And then a giant shadow appeared at the closest window. The window the shadow clone had been retreating to since she had been first sighted. The remnants of the shadow clone withdrew into the shadow cloud. Then a small window towards its top opened and out came what looked like the giant barrel of a ginormous gun.


    It shone a violent gold, it burned, even from Rafe''s perspective as an observer. And all this had taken the fraction of a second in which the gold armoured man would have spoken. The beam of cosmic power struck behind the man, and men and pillars fell.


    A laugh sounded out from the shadows.


    ¡°Endrick you fool! What is more important to a kingdom than its king? I am the greatest thief, I always steal what I say I will. Destroying your ugly ass palace will just be a bonus. An impregnable fortress?¡± she scoffed.


    And then multiple windows opened in the shadow cloud, and the shadow cloud swelled. There were blusters, and there were oddly shaped tools and even simple cloth and paper with odd symbols shimmering with power. And they fell upon the palace, and destroyed it and everyone and everything in it with not even a speck of dust left to see.


    ¡°Oops! Maybe I went a bit overboard. Destroying half the planet was not part of the contract¡­ Ah, well. Now we know mixing too many exploding natural treasures and talismans and blusters is a bit overkill¡­¡± and she laughed.


    And the scene shifted again.


    The third Skyholm. Humanoid, but taller still, and winged. An angel. No, not quite. His wings were different, special. They were not physical.


    Sure, the monarch of shadows had a lot of her face hidden in her shadows, and her dark hair normally covered up what was left, but Rafe was reasonably sure she was a human woman.


    This taller man though, had wings. Ethereal wings, not made of feathers or chitin or anything Rafe had ever heard of. The people Rafe saw in the background seemed to have wings of fire, lightning, or ice, though Skyholm¡¯s were different.


    At the time when the rest of the guardians became most active, the third Skyholm tried to unite the others in keeping peace in the multiverse.


    Too bad his planet was in the middle of a racial war. One in which the other guardians seemed intent on meddling.


    And so at one meeting of the multiverse peak, Skyholm complained.


    ¡°This iteration of the war has taken much longer than it was supposed to. If it goes on much longer, one of the tribes shall be extinct.¡±


    ¡°And what do you expect from us then, Skyholm?¡±


    ¡°Stop meddling. People of our power should not mess with the lives of mortals.¡±


    ¡°But yours is an interesting world. A truly powerful people. Born stronger than most, with even more elemental focus than the elemenoids. You truly deserve to be the first recognized divine race. Skyholm did well finding you. Maybe we can find a rare young one too, with a variant element to pass our mantles onto.¡±


    ¡°Ah, so that is what this is about? You fear Skyholm for passing down our mantle? There is no secret, you know. We do not intend to force you to pass your mantles along if you do not want to, nor can we force you.¡±


    Skyholm surveyed the others arrayed before him. All Rafe could see though, when he surveyed the other six, were swirling colours, just like he''d seen when he first looked at Skyholm¡¯s wings. They weren''t buying whatever he was selling.


    ¡°The fact that a mantle can change hands is surprising. It might lead to instability if this information got out,¡± a female voice said.


    ¡°Indeed,¡± another also commented. ¡°It is in all our interests that Skyholm either vows to never pass on the mantle, or, failing that¡­¡± the man shrugged, but his implication was clear.


    Skyholm snorted. ¡°You selfish bastards! I always thought my rise to this mantle was easier and smoother than the other two. Maybe putting you old coots in line was always meant to be my biggest contribution to the universe. Even gods need rules.¡±


    And in a burst of transcendent aura that hurt Rafe to look at, a battle broke out. Six against one, and with every fist thrown, every breath of fire, every clash of words of power, worlds were razed. But Skyholm faced off against six of the then universe''s strongest, and he wasn''t immediately crushed, or ever.


    A giant storm of fire hurtled to him, the breath of a primordial dragon, and Skyholm danced with it, bending it around his body and sending it hurtling into one of the caster''s allies. He was attacked a thousand times, yet they couldn''t seem to touch him, and when he finally attacked back.


    In the end, he tried to limit the destruction to the lifeless neutral galaxy they''d held the meeting on. A feat worthy of praise, because even when only two guardians fought, star maps were rewritten. Only one galaxy died that day, and Skyholm escaped heavily injured, but the other six were inactive for decades after the fact.


    And when one by one, he took the fight to their domains, there was no fight. He bullied the universe into a peace treaty.

 Chapter 3: A Legacy Of Gods (2)

    The fourth Skyholm did not have magic. At least not in the traditional sense. To Rafe, he seemed positively divine. He was a warrior. A pure warrior and nothing more.


    A warrior who could crash a small hill with an upward lunge and downward slash was rather overpowered though.


    Still, the battle scene he saw resonated deeply with him. When slowed down to a crawl, the man just swung his sword in the most basic of movements. His feet moved lightly, all his muscles rigidly controlled through years of undoubtedly grueling practice. He slashed vertically, slashed horizontally, thrust forward, took a half step back to dodge by a hair''s width and then he was there again, a flurry of small cuts appearing on his enemy''s body.


    And then he changed his stance to a crouch, and iron sang, and clanged, and blood spurted, and the dance went on. Parry, slash, thrust, back step, dodge, parry, counter, and again.


    It was a simple swordsman duel. Rafe was sure the men didn''t even intend to kill each other. Why then did the fourth Skyholm choose this particular duel to showcase his path? Was it even his choice? Who even made this ¡­legacy trial?


    It was the simplest vision. A few fantastical-looking movements here and there, but most of the time it was just two swordsmen exchanging blows with utmost efficiency. It was beautiful.


    Still, the visions moved forward.


    The fifth Skyholm was the only other nonhuman, although she did appear as a beautiful human woman with crimson hair meditating in peace before she was attacked.


    The fifth Skyholm, the matriarch of the nest of fiery fate. Her chosen concept was one of immortal fate, and the battle she chose was one that never happened. One that should have, though. The battle for the end of a universe, maybe even the multiverse.


    When the Demon God attacked her, she had been a woman meditating among celestial bodies. Rafe saw another god-tier battle, although he wasn''t sure what that meant, and he was sure some impressions were being screened from him.


    They fought for decades, for centuries even, there in the expanse of space, among the stars. But this was a different fight from that of the third Skyholm. The woman had transformed into a bird, a familiar-looking fantastic beast of fiery feathers.


    Only its flames were white instead of crimson and yellow. It still healed though. The demon king seemed to be concepted with widespread destruction. Almost any movements he made had a celestial body set to explode.


    Yet the firebird was it''s natural counter. Every one of her movements rebirthed the galaxy, and so like that, a concept of absolute annihilation and a concept of rebirth clashed at the highest level. And none could find any leverage for centuries.


    That is until something distracted the firebird. Rafe saw it too. The moment a thread of fate moved away from its path, the firebird lost its head before it could even follow the distraction to its natural end.


    The demon god pounced on its decapitated enemy and reigned destruction-infused blows with impunity, the galaxy they were in darkened with the advent of the void.


    Then the fire burned brighter for a few moments, and the firebird was reborn in all its glory. It took a lot out of it (her), holding absolute annihilation and the void back on its own.


    She cursed the old guardians for their folly. She did not doubt in her mind they''d orchestrated this whole ordeal. She had known they would, for she had reached the pinnacle of the concept of fate. This was the fate of the universe though. One universe had to end for another to be born in its ashes.


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    It would take an anomaly to stop such a fate. An anomaly like what had distracted her. An anomaly like a thousands-year-old enchantress performing a grand ritual to make her younger self the strongest being in the universe, applying the concept of time ¡ªtime travel even. Regression.


    ¡°She created such an interesting ability¡­¡± the phoenix thought as a piece of her mind watched the thread that had interested her.


    A young girl, not even nine yet sat in a burning cave. Her whole world had been upended on that day, a mentor had betrayed her, and her family was nowhere to be seen, but beside her was a blue screen Rafe found familiar. The first such ability in the known universe.


    The phoenix vision bled into the next. A bit of a montage of the young anomaly''s life. She too was a genius. Like the first, so too the last.


    The sixth Skyholm, the enchantress, colonist of the void, protector of life, defier of the end times, the strongest god the multiverse ever did - and ever will - see. The last Skyholm.


    She entered the stream of fate, the enchantress did, and even before she had ascended to their level, bore witness to the fight for the end of the universe. And she would not let it come to pass.


    She was a spell sword, is what she called herself. An anomaly not even the first Skyholm could rival. The first Skyholm had seven aspects or affinities or concepts, but he only got them after a freak accident left him with a fractured soul. Something that would have killed many was an opportunity for him.


    The enchantress was born with her soul strong enough to have six aspects already, although she could only start with them at their weakest possible levels.


    Still, a little hard work to strengthen her soul was nothing to the woman. She formed her sword style, a style where she used a long whip imbued with an arcane mana so pure it had never been seen before her time.


    With a flick of her wrist, the enchantress summoned her whip, still watching the battle that could have crushed any lesser being. And then the whip started to levitate slowly as she imbued mana into it.


    One of her eyes was bigger and shone almost like a borne fire seen from atop a hill on a dark night. There was a vertical scratch on the eyelids showing that maybe she''d lost that eye once, and now it had been replaced by a phoenix eye.


    Her eye shone, she took a stance, and none of the other two combatants noticed her. The shine in her prosthetic eye intensified when the whip shot forward, holding the Demon''s concept of destruction as the whip held it down and her pure mana ravaged its soul.


    The phoenix with the white fire took her chance as well, tearing through her opponent''s chest with her sharpened claws and not bothering to remove its heart but instead dumping her immortal flames inside it.


    When the concept of destruction escaped its leash, it destroyed the pure mana ravaging the demon''s body, and all the wounds it had suffered too. The fire came back though. For it was immortal.


    And the enchantress joined the fray in earnest. Her sucker blow had not been enough to win the fight for the universe, but such was the fate of a weaker truth fighting against a fully realized truth at the pinnacle. The Demon soon realised fighting two opponents at once might be too much for it.


    Rafe noticed a smile on the enchantress¡¯ face as the demon god decided to take her out of the picture before he returned to fighting the fires ravaging his soul.


    ¡°Fuck the Pinnacle,¡± she said. ¡°There is always higher to climb, and I''ve already deviated from your structured paths. The pinnacle is nothing to me because I will surpass it!¡±


    The last was a shout, and as she said it a scythe appeared in her hand. One covered in runes of blood, one that spoke of laws yet unknown, yet unseen. In her other hand appeared a lantern with a flame burning in it. A terrible flame nobody should look at.


    Not even Rafe who was just a projection could avoid the feeling of his head splitting into thousands. He could only imagine what the Demon God felt at that moment.


    No, forget the Demon. The enchantress who was holding it, who was holding that blood scythe, whose body was visibly wilting as she fought to keep the terrible power she had unleashed in check.


    With the descent of the scythe, the universe froze for a moment. The heavens wept as a pinnacle being, the holder of a mantle of authority, died.


    The phoenix was knocked out in the background. The enchantress approached her and took something out of her very soul, although she didn''t do it out of malice. It was the mantle of Skyholm, that she had earned the right to inherit. Her body was visibly healing now she''d put her evil instruments away. It was healing very slowly.


    Then she took the demon''s newly born mantle too, and slipped back into that stream of fate from whence she had come. Thus the end of the universe was averted, and a memory the phoenix had lived was made unreal. It was real, in her mind, but it would never come to pass. The universe would not end that way, because the enchantress found another way, another path for the universe, and she held two mantles too.

 Chapter 4. Millennia -old Virgins.

    As he watched these visions play out, he bled out, his brain eroded. His life force flickered.


    He also healed, but death came faster than health. He had forgotten what he was supposed to be doing here, but he''d chosen.


    It was his whole thing. Reliability. If his life were a path, Rafael Kingsley only really wanted to be competent. Competent enough to be wanted, to be needed, to not be abandoned. Like a simple swordsman with the simplest sword swings. He was not the strongest by a long shot, but he belonged at the top. His whole bearing was a testament to the effort he''d put into this.


    The vision played out before him again. And again, and he forgot everything aside from the swings. He forgot everything about his life, his near death, his family, his team, his girlfriend who sucked face with that annoying kid.


    What annoying little kid though? What family? He couldn''t remember a damn thing. But he had to survive, and he had chosen to live.


    ****


    Six soul remnants watched a body float in the void, time suspended for it as it was for everything here. Their attention, though, was focused on the blue screen in front of them.


    Name: Rafael Kingsley


    Race: Human (lvl-)


    Class: N/A (lvl-)


    Health: 1/50


    Stamina: 35/50


    Stats


    Strength: 6


    Agility: 9


    Coordination: 7


    Vitality: 5


    Endurance: 5


    Intelligence: 3


    Wisdom: 4


    Paranormal: ???


    ¡°Hmm,¡± the enchantress started while she rubbed her chin. ¡°I¡¯d never considered the potential people from Essence Deserts presented. This status screen screams raw potential, a blank slate, moldable clay. Why had we never tried this before now?¡±


    ¡°I think it''s pretty obvious why we''ve never tried that, En,¡± the red-haired damsel next to her spoke. ¡°Having no essence at all, their bodies are weaker than even those of children. Look at his stats! It''s a miracle he survived long enough to be extracted from the aperture. He''s lucky we were so close.¡±


    ¡°In any case, this boy is very interesting, very raw. Did you notice that skill he learned, before even unlocking the system? You cannot deny this boy is worthy of inheriting my path.¡±


    ¡°No one is worthy, surely, of inheriting the genius of the multiverse,¡± a black-haired female spoke sarcastically. ¡°It is just a skill. Skills are weak, regulated. You cannot compare this little skill to that bloodline ability you had.¡±


    ¡°I never had a bloodline, nor innate ability, only one of us did,¡± the enchantress replied, staring at one of the males, the one who was most focused on the slowly healing body.


    ¡°Yes, only one of us did,¡± the male spoke. ¡°And I couldn''t pass it on. Not through my blood, not through the mantle.¡± His voice was wistful.


    A man carrying a bastard sword on his back stepped forward.


    ¡°Let me guess,¡± he said. ¡°You think the boy might be able to carry it?¡±


    The first man shrugged. ¡°I do. And it''s not a bloodline, it''s an innate ability.¡±


    ¡°Same thing,¡± someone commented.


    "Why though? What makes him different from the millions that came before?" the swordsman continued to ask.


    "I''m not sure. I won''t be sure until the process is completed, but that skill..."


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    He looked at the enchantress who was now frowning in concentration.


    She shrugged. "We''ll see."


    "Great," the woman with a hood of shadows spoke. "That overpowered bloodline is going to make a bloody return, isn''t it?"


    "It is not a bloodline," the enchantress said patiently. "It is an innate ability, hence why it cannot be transferred through something physical like blood." Then she frowned, turning to the First. "How do you intend to transfer it, if I may ask?"


    The man shrugged. "The librarian."


    There was a chorus of gasps.


    "But, the other lost weapons will¡ª"


    "It has been a million years. I''m sure I''ve tamed them all well enough," The First said.


    "The librarian contains a piece of your soul then?" the enchantress asked.


    "Of course. Otherwise, it would be mist. All of them would be."


    "Why have you never considered this before?" she asked again.


    The man shrugged. "Time. We never had enough with any of the challengers."


    "Do not let hope blind you."


    "While all of that is interesting," the shadow monarch chimed in, "the boy did spend an awful amount of time in that spatial aperture. We could get him a spatial affinity easy as breathing."


    The gigantic winged man in the corner grunted, but other than that said nothing else. The red-haired woman decided to join him in his corner. They had no business joining in this particular discussion.


    ¡°I wish to claim the boy. I have some theories I need tested,¡± the enchantress said.


    ¡°Such a happy accident cannot be dismissed, this is surely fate!¡± the thief cried, trying her best to cause chaos as always.


    ¡°I think his little skill might give me enough time to graft the librarian, and a piece of my soul onto him. At last, my bloodline¡ª¡±


    ¡°Hah! so it is a bloodline ability?!¡± the thief said smugly.


    ¡°No, it''s not!¡± the enchantress and the First answered together.


    The two stared at each other in surprise and appreciation, and they never noticed the thief looking at them and rolling her eyes, and mouthing something about geniuses having to die, and millennia-old virgins and the like.


    Someone cleared their throat.


    ¡°So funny and selfless of all of you to make plans for my apprentice. But¡­he is my apprentice.¡±


    The enchantress groaned. ¡°Come on, Noid. This boy would be perfect for an experiment I''ve been thinking of.¡±


    The swordsman shrugged. ¡°You have so many hypothetical experiments, Enith, I''m sure you can think of one to carry out even after I''ve had the kid for a few decades, give or take a century.¡±


    ¡°Century? Surely you don''t plan to keep him under suspended time that long?¡± The First asked.


    ¡°What does it matter? I trained for decades just to gain a little mastery of a never-ending path, and I am damn good at swords. No challenger can be here more than two years subjective time. This boy, if the skill grows right, might be able to last more. He''s forgotten his damn past! He is perfect. I cannot give him up.¡±


    The other three groaned. They did have rules, and the boy had gravitated towards the swordsman. There was nothing they could do.


    ¡°Well, a decade might be optimistic, but I''ll hope for much more. Remember to block the system from him, will you Enith?"


    "What? Why?" the Shadow monarch asked.


    Noid, the swordsman, shrugged. "I never use the system in my trial.That kind of thing makes soft warriors, warriors always ready for their mother to bail them out. In our time¡ª¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah. The system did make me, you know?¡± the enchantress quizzed.


    Everyone in the room just stared at her until she snorted and clicked her tongue in annoyance.


    ¡°There are other ways to fail the trials, especially yours Noid, aside from running out of willpower," The First Skyholm commented.


    Noid nodded. "A good point. But the boy will be stuck here until most of his body is healed, and how many years subjective is that? His damage is worse than most we''ve received, and he does have that initial magic resistance to wade through. Even if his mind cannot handle it, it will be hard for him to leave the void before his body heals."


    "Maybe that''s why he got that skill?" the red-haired woman dared to chime in from across the room.


    "Maybe," Noid conceded. "In anycase, his lost memories might make him giving up unlikely."


    "And why is that?" The First asked.


    Noid shrugged. "Well what if he thinks this a real world and that all the stakes are real. He will be much more likely to power through every day."


    "You wish to withhold information from a trial taker!" the First bellowed.


    "Not permanently. Initially. To see what he does."


    "There are two problems I see with that," the enchantress spoke. "One, if the system is actively monitoring him...well. Two, he is practically immortal. Why would he take it seriously?"


    Noid scratched his cheek for a time. "I could convince him he is some kind of legendary hero chosen to save the world. Given immense power for that one purpose."


    The enchantress blinked at him in surprise. Then she shrugged and nodded her approval to The First.


    ¡°Do you think the boy''s mental state will survive the amount of time it will take me to graft the librarian onto his soul?¡± The First asked Noid.


    ¡°Are you sure you want to do that? This is something you''ve held onto for a long time?¡± Noid asked.


    The first shrugged. "This has to be a sign. It has to be. Fate brought this child here, and why if not for that did we build these damn things? If not now, then when? When the system has existed a million years?"


    "Well, it will either work or it won''t. He will either survive or he won''t."


    Noid knew it was a little more complicated than that. The First would have to call in a few favours from his fellow remnants to get enough of the librarian back. He would have to convince them.


    The enchantress just scoffed, but she looked at the floating body with a little interest. There was already another experiment in her head, the swordsman was sure. She was always quick to bounce back.


    ¡°Good,¡± The First spoke again. ¡°You may start your training then. The rest of you should prepare your ¡­gifts, for the latest trial taker. His circumstances do indeed seem ideal, but we cannot control what he''ll do with our gifts.¡±


    All the excitement vanished from the god''s faces. The thief was considering the matter seriously, but the swordsman was sure the enchantress was only thinking about the kind of data she could get from an evil powerhouse.


    He sighed as all six of them went their way, preparing for the first thing that might have interested them in eons.

 Chapter 5. A Soldier With No Name

    He''d lost consciousness from all the pain. What pain though? He couldn''t remember. And why was it so loud, so stuffy, so constricting?


    He opened his eyes, but the light was too bright. And somehow he was in the middle of a press of bodies. It was anything but comfortable.


    And the smells. He was in a press of bodies, and that liquid that was pouring everywhere, it was red, it was familiar, it was tangy.


    A person in front of him got their head crashed. Something viscous fell on his face. He knew what it was, and he almost lost his lunch over it. His hand was confined, it couldn''t move to free his face, to raise his weapon. He was in the middle of battle, somehow, even though he didn''t know how he''d ended up here. He was going to die, again.


    Again, he thought questioningly, when had he ever died? All around him, warriors got in each other''s way, and he was right in the middle of the melee. An explosion went off behind him.


    He could feel the heat on his back, seinging his shirt, pushing him towards the back of the man or woman in front of him. He bounced on a bark hardback, and this time there was no one behind him to keep him in the scrum. The whole backline had been obliterated by one spell.


    He fell slowly, and the ground behind him was filled with boiling gore.


    He could see the whole cluster falling towards him, their balance messed up with their support in the back obliterated. The column collapsed. He was there, the nameless soldier was, and he fought to breathe as he found himself struggling not to drown in a sea of bodies of which he was at the bottom.


    He struggled, as did everybody, and it seemed like hours before he finally made it and was able to breathe anything that wasn''t disgusting and tangy and sweaty and or smelled like excrement. His relieved breath didn''t last long.


    Their whole cluster of what could only be amateur soldiers was vulnerable, and the large spell he watched gathering power was ominous.


    It was a large spell, slow. The soldier thought it was the kind of spell a mage couldn''t use in the middle of an intense battle. When your opponents were stuck on the ground though, unable to dodge or counterattack, almost four dozen opponents, to be wiped out in one fell swoop, it made things a little convenient.


    The ice spiraled outwards, and an aura of intense cold emanated from the building mana. The heat of bodies pressed together and the residue heat of the fire spell were useless. And the swirling storm of cold that kept building was hypnotizing. Still, his fingers were already starting to freeze. And the spell was still just building power.


    And then he appeared, someone the nameless soldier could have sworn he''d seen before. It was a boy, a young boy with long hair tied to the back of his head, terrible scars on one half of his face, and strands of white hair mixed in his ponytail.


    He came from the sky, like an avenging god, and cut that swirling representation of power in twain with a descending slash. By the time the view cleared, tens of enemy combatants lay on the ground in front of him, groaning and screaming in pain, some quiet in one final rest. The mage was in the latter group.


    The boy crouched, his bastard sword held loosely in one hand, its tip touching the ground. He added his second hand to the hilt and started performing a series of diagonal slashes, so fast were they, and graceful.


    Those in pain were granted early release, and the few who tried to ambush him were summarily dealt with with the simplest swings. None of them was even a match for him.


    The nameless soldier clenched his empty fists. He did not have a weapon anymore, but he would one day. And he would be like that angel of death too.


    It took the fallen soldiers a while to realise the swordsman was waiting for them to collect themselves before he''d move on.


    He didn''t stop there though. Once he realised they were all standing, he instructed them to follow him. Cutting up humans like stalks of wheat, he led them to a resting area.


    ¡°Your first blooding, wasn''t it?¡± the boy asked them after they''d reached the resting area. ¡°Well, it''s not pretty, but you need to get experience somehow. Now, hopefully, you''ll know it isn''t good to crowd like that. Makes you susceptible to those destructive fire spells.¡±


    No one felt like responding just then, and some even seemed offended. They just might have forgotten this little man saved them a few minutes back, and that he''d killed at least twice their current number, of experienced soldiers no less.


    The next day the nameless soldier had a sword. They did not return to the field for almost three days.


    He was not as comfortable with using the sword as he''d assumed he would be. He had put himself at the front of the formation, trying to simply swing his sword. The warrior he met first wielded an axe, a graceless weapon in the soldier''s eyes. Only when they clashed the axe wielder had more grace than the nameless soldier.


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    He was pushed back. He crashed into one of his squadmates, throwing off the man''s rhythm. The axe warrior jumped after him and it was all the soldier could do to shuffle on the ground like a worm to try and escape. He heard, more than saw the squadmate he''d tripped up be eviscerated. He wanted to crawl into a barrel and hide from the world for all eternity.


    Not only had he made a fool of himself, he''d also killed a squadmate.


    Sure, he couldn''t remember anything, therefore he couldn''t remember most of them, but he''d killed a squadmate. Nothing else seemed to matter but that.


    Then he returned, that swordsman from before. Saved them again. Only this time there were less than five of them left, and two of the others were too injured to fight again for at least half a year. He was transferred to another unit.


    He watched the warrior every chance he got, saw him training, saw him mowing down people on the field. He tried to learn from a distance. It wasn''t working. Mostly because he scared easy. Something happened to the air whenever an enemy looked his way. The air seemed to cuddle with blood and steel, like the amount of blood they''d spilled was solidifying into some kind of aura.


    It always left the soldier breathless and shaky, throwing off his rhythm.


    ¡°I think I''ve been at this battle front long enough,¡± the boy wonder was telling a sergeant the nameless soldier had gone to visit just then.


    He had come to the sergeant''s tent because he needed to change units again, his new one having been decimated after not even a month together.


    ¡°I guess it''s fine, captain,¡± the sergeant told the boy.


    The soldier froze. The boy was going to another battle front. He was going to leave this place and the soldier was never going to see his perfect form again. To learn from him. That was¡­terrible.


    The boy left the tent, startled a bit when he saw the soldier just standing there but soon regained his cool and nodded as he moved past the soldier.


    The soldier did not nod back. He just stood there, stiff as a board, his mind whirling.


    ¡°Can I help you, soldier,¡± the sergeant said from his open tent flap.


    ¡°Huh? I¡­ Yes. My unit was destroyed.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Alright then. You''ll have to be reassigned. Just wait here for a few minutes while I send a courier to¡ª¡±


    ¡°Minutes?¡±


    The sergeant frowned, obviously not happy with being interrupted.


    ¡°Yes, about thirty minutes or so will do.¡±


    The soldier stiffened. Thirty minutes. But the boy would be gone by then. He debated it in his head for precisely five seconds. Then he was running.


    ¡°Hey! Wait! Wait a second,¡± he yelled at the slowly receding back of the boy.


    Somehow, he heard him. He half-turned his body with what the soldier thought might have been a receding smirk.


    ¡°Are you talking to me?¡±


    ¡°Ye¡­ Yes. Yes! I want to be like you. I want to be a swordmaster too.¡±


    The boy stopped and turned to look at the soldier fully. He smiled indulgently like he was talking to a precocious child.


    ¡°I''m not a swordmaster yet, chap. I''m pretty close, but I''m not quite there yet. Not in this scenario anyway.¡±


    ¡°But you are strong,¡± the soldier insisted. ¡°You are the strongest one here.¡±


    The boy scratched the back of his head. He was having trouble keeping a grin from his mouth from what the soldier could see.


    ¡°I don''t know¡­ Do you think you can be like me though? I train. A lot.¡±


    ¡°I can do it. I can train a lot too. I just don''t want to be useless.¡±


    The boy looked away for a while, then he spent a few moments studying the darkening sky.


    When he looked at the soldier again, his eyes were suddenly cold, the air around him friggid. The soldier took a step back, shivering.


    ¡°Your fighting spirit needs a lot of work,¡± the swords man commented even as the air turned back to normal.


    ¡°Luckily for you, this is a war. You will never find a better place to temper yourself, temper your aura. As for being a swordsman¡­¡±


    The boy studied him from head to toe.


    ¡°Your physique doesn''t look half-bad. You''re still a child, but you''ll grow, just like me. I think I might be able to help you.¡±


    The soldier smiled. His heart beat faster from excitement. He dared get his hopes up.


    ¡°Unfortunately, I have to go to another battle front soon. I can only train you in the basics for about two days before I have to leave.¡±


    ¡°Take me with you!¡± the soldier said after thinking about it for a few moments.


    The swordsman scratched the back of his head.


    ¡°It isn''t that simple. Traveling with me while I roam the battlefronts¡­ it won''t be good for you. You won''t be able to keep up, and even if you could, you couldn''t handle the enemies I will be engaging. I will have to protect you all the time, which will be detrimental to your growth and my health.¡±


    The soldier found his shoulders caving in.


    ¡°Tell you what,¡± the swordsman said, ¡°let''s make a deal. I teach you the drills, you do them everyday. Swing your sword a thousand, no, a million times everyday. Learn the basic stances. Make them as easy as breathing. Then, survive. Survive this war, and at the end of it, I''ll take you as my apprentice.¡±


    It took him a few moments to understand the offer, but once he did he nodded his head sharply, and then again, and again.


    ¡°Yes-s¡­sir,¡± he replied.


    The boy nodded his head in acknowledgement and turned away with a smile on his face. The nameless soldier had no idea back then. It was the first time he''d ever spoken to a god.


    ****


    A month after his cousin''s graduation, Rafe called his aunt again for the hundredth time. He sighed. Her phone was busy, again. He wondered when she was planning on coming back.


    He shrugged, cleaned the house, and went out to get the mail. It was weird. Why the hell was his aunt''s house addressed through his father''s Kingsley name?


    One of the envelopes was empty but for a small rectangular plastic thing. Rafe saw the envelope, the somewhat familiar writing, more formal than he remembered.


    It was addressed to him, a credit card. He didn''t know what to think, he didn''t want to think. The limit on it was crazy, too crazy. A fifteen-year-old boy bought a sports car.


    And in another world, a nameless soldier woke up with sweat beading on his forehead. It was hours before that day''s deployment, and hours were what he needed.


    He didn''t know how long they''d been fighting this damn war, but he had something to look forward to. In the end, the greatest swordsman he''d yet seen would take him on as an apprentice. He went through a couple of the stances a few reliable veterans had taught him, and swung his sword again, and again. He didn''t count, he just swung vertically, diagonal from the right, from the left, rinse and repeat.


    His muscles throbbed, and the light of the rising sun glistened off drops of his sweat. He did not stop. His breathing was rugged, he could hear the whoosh of the sword''s movement through the still air. He smiled inwardly, making his movements faster and faster. His feet moved in the most basic of patterns he''d learned over many battles.


    The rest of his platoon woke. A new platoon once more. He''d lost three or more by now. He always survived though, always the last man standing somehow, not through better battle awareness or anything. He couldn''t explain it.


    How did he survive all those massive area of effect spells? He didn''t want


    to say it, acknowledge it.


    Five hours later, his troop fell into a trap spell. They did not stand a chance. All their bodies were evaporated, his too. There was no possible way he could have survived that.

 Chapter 6. Immortality of A Sort

    His fourth or so troop was much more experienced than all his others, and he stayed with them a lot longer. They were together longer than the two-month threshold all his former platoons couldn''t quite reach.


    They were very organised and had a rotating system where a group would start in the vanguard, rotate to the middle, then rotate to the rear.


    The soldier was in the rear when it happened. Someone in the middle ranks used his mouth to mimic a farting sound.


    The soldier and his line all scowled.


    ¡°Hey now,¡± someone in the vanguard said. ¡°That isn''t funny.¡±


    ¡°I tell you what, it wasn''t funny eating you fellas¡¯ gas while we was in the rear. What are you boy''s even eating?¡± someone in the middle ranks said.


    ¡°We are all eating the same gruel,¡± another soldier complained. ¡°Besides, it isn''t all of us as had bad bellies.¡±


    They all looked at him, at squad leader Harris, their very own star. He was a hit with the ladies, with his tall athletic build. And his build wasn''t just for show either. He was the best of them.


    ¡°Are you trying to accuse me of something, lieutenant?¡±


    ¡°Not accusing you of anything sir, just your belly.¡± The soldier hesitated, looking around at the whole squad with wide pleading eyes. ¡°Begging your pardon, but some of the others assumed that Colonel Jenner¡­well she might have well got you pregnant last night.¡±


    They all stopped moving and looked at him with wide-open mouths.


    ¡°Colonel Jenner got me pregnant?¡±


    ¡°I mean¡­¡± one of those in the second line started. ¡°If you do it a lot, everyone knows sooner or later there might be an accident.¡±


    Harris inhaled in a slow deliberate motion, his eyes closed.


    ¡°And all you envious fucks feel this way?¡±


    Everyone exchanged glances, then nodded.


    ¡°Yes, boss. If this goes on, we may be forced to retire you on account of baby gas.¡±


    He stared them all down, they kept their faces blank. The nameless soldier broke first, the others snorting in expected disappointment before joining him in laughing their hearts out.


    ¡°Hah, hah, laugh it off. Enemies were sighted a few leagues out so you best settle down in the next¡ª¡±


    He didn''t get much further than that, the squad leader.


    There was no warning. One minute they were ambling along, and the next, the world broke into pieces. It was loud, it was hot. They were at the centre of it, of the storm of fire.


    His body was broken. A few pieces of it vapourised in a sickening rusty smoke.


    He was dead. And then he wasn''t. It was not the first time either.


    ¡°... a bunch of idiots,¡± one of the enemy scouts was saying, tittering.


    The soldier could hardly hear them at first because the explosion had damaged his hearing even before his death and resurrection. Still, he''d found that his resurrection healed everything, even his calluses, leaving him with depressingly soft hands.


    He stayed where he was, quietly stewing, buried in his former comrades¡¯s blood and guts. The enemies were relaxed. And as well they should be. There were hundreds of them yet there was none among his comrades.


    But once, an indeterminate amount of time ago, the nameless soldier had seen a single swordsman face off against hundreds and prevail. He could down dozens with a single slash. The soldier might not be at that level yet, but he had his advantages. His seeming immortality, for one.


    He hadn''t wanted to so much as think of it before, but now it was convenient. He needed to believe he could come back from any type of death so that when he fought these assholes, he held nothing back. He would die to take them all down, because he could.


    He jumped out of the gore. He did not know - nor care - what his enemies thought when they saw him. He didn''t even know what this whole war was about, to be honest, but he didn''t even know his name, so that was a moot point.


    He crouched low - the tip of his sword touching the ground, both his hands gripping the hilt - and he swung before his enemies could get their heads wrapped around the situation. He swung fast, and hard, all his blows critically injuring an opponent. He did not let up, but the enemies recovered fast. Too fast.


    There were so many of them, and most, if not all were stronger than the soldier. He was just more willing to die. A fireball flew towards him, and he jumped away just in time, only to find an ice lance taking him through one thigh. Still, he lunged forward with a thrust, only for the tip of his sword to clash directly with the tip of another sword.


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    A thrusting technique if ever he''d seen one. He''d been meaning to learn one. He hadn''t found anyone to spar with, yet. A thought struck him then. He''d been ignoring a significant advantage he had. He was immortal, no injury to him was permanent. He didn''t need to hold back. He could improve faster if he fought with stronger enemies, knowing he couldn''t die no matter how much they injured him.


    He could also feel free to experiment with impunity. He smiled, iron sung, and he started his battle against a hundred enemies.


    He cut an arrow in half, then tried to deflect a fireball, but was pushed back. He overbalanced, and even though he saw it, he couldn''t quite react in time to the swordman''s lunging thrust. He died only a few microseconds after he decided to fight like his life didn''t matter.


    A few moments later his eyes shot open again and the swordsman backed up in bewilderment. That single swordsman killed the nameless soldier ten times before he was able to overcome him. The soldier cracked his neck and looked around at the open-mouthed spectators. He grinned and leaped back into the fray.


    ****


    He was present the day the war ended. The nameless soldier had survived the grueling, soul-crushing slog that was the war he knew nothing about. He had gotten more and more accustomed to his situation as time went by.


    Before, every single one of his enemies could intimidate him with no more than a look. It was like they were always passively giving off some kind of blood-drenched aura. He had one too now he''d killed thousands of people.


    His sword play while nowhere near that child genius¡¯s was no joke now. He could exchange blows with the best of them. Sure, he was focusing on the basics, not trying anything fancier than simple swings, the simplest footwork, the simplest stances, lunges, thrusts, parries, and counters, but he was still a warrior to be proud of.


    It was weird though. He hadn''t seen his prospective master since the first time they''d met. And the army had been cut down to only about twenty thousand men and women.


    He had expected to see him in the advanced squad he''d been a part of, but he hadn''t. And he found out why a few hours ago, a few seconds before his suicide squad moment.


    They hadn''t been the best as he''d been led to believe. They had been the sacrifices their commanders chose to pay to conquer the final stronghold on their route.


    The nameless soldier had found himself grinning wider and wider as he ran through the barrage of spells and arrows and traps to the gate, not even bothering with a shield or mana barrier or any defense whatsoever. He wanted to cut them all down with his sword. It was glorious, although he missed more than he cut, and he became a charred and frozen pincushion before he made it to the wall. And he lost another squad or troop or whatever. He hadn''t bothered getting close to them, even that short blonde with the inviting hips.


    Too bad some of the women kept saying he was too young for them, and some were all of them. He couldn''t remember the last time he''d rolled around with an older woman, it must have been some time in his imagination. He would have done it that day, and he was sure he could have, but he waited for that swordsman. He didn''t want to miss his chance on the account of something he was sure to get a lot of once he became a swordmaster.


    It wasn''t until three days later that he came. In those three days, the nameless soldier finally got time to try out that whole meditation thing older soldiers always told him about, to keep his mind calm and his aura serene. It wasn''t for him.


    The boy didn''t look a day older than the first time they met. He had the same clothes on, even. The soldier could swear some blood stains were in the same spots as last time.


    They studied each other without saying anything for a few moments. The soldier was sure his inspection was a lot more cursory than his prospective trainer''s.


    ¡°Well, this is a surprise,¡± the boy said with a smirk. ¡°What should I call you then?¡±


    ¡°I-I¡­¡± the soldier hesitated. ¡°I cannot remember my name.¡±


    ¡°But you remember enough to wait for me to pick you up,¡± the young boy scratched his cheek, then shrugged. ¡°Well, not that it matters. My name is Noid, and now that you''ve fulfilled my condition, I have no qualms about taking you with me. What say you, want to travel with me? Join my mercenary company?¡±


    Noid was once a noble but a freak accident had left him scarred in the face. That was all it took for his father to relegate him to staying in a side house on their large estate. That was enough for his father''s wife, who was not his mother, to turn him into an experimental prop for her magic.


    When he was nine, Noid Ellan suffered permanent soul damage. Even though he had considerable mana reserves, he was unable to use magic, the last straw for his father. He didn''t stay down for long after finding his new family though.


    According to him, he was currently a fairly famous adventurer, and he''d only been forced to come to the war so that the chairman of the mercenary company he worked for didn''t have to leave the company for years.


    Sometimes the soldier wondered how long the boy had been in the war, even though he still looked no older than fourteen.


    Their journey was a hard time for the soldier for reasons other than his empathy getting the better of him. The boy practiced harder than him and seemed to have more stamina than him to boot. He found himself wishing he could put a number on the amount of stamina they both had, for comparison''s sake, but that was impossible.


    When they sparred, he never had the slightest chance of winning.


    ¡°At least you have experience, and you can withstand battle intent well enough. You are a collection of flaws. What is with you charging like a graceless bull? You are a swordsman. Do you think you are immortal?¡±


    The boy tilted his head to study him.


    ¡°Then maybe I''ll show you that death is not the only reason you should fear fighting men.¡±


    That day he learned that his strategy to improve super fast would not serve him forever.  He was tortured for hours. The smallest cuts, cuts that burned, cuts that stung, cuts he could swear were coated in magic, even though Noid could not use magic. He didn''t bleed out, despite feeling enough pain he''d thought his hands had been cut clean off.


    And without dying, he couldn''t heal the wounds instantly. He had trouble doing anything except standing with his hands and legs far apart to avoid them rubbing against his body for almost two days. He''d drawn the line on direct suicide. First, he didn''t want Noid to know about his immortality if possible. And what if taking his own life meant he couldn''t resurrect anymore. He would sooner not find out.


    That might have been his worst habit, but he had a lot more bad habits. One time, Noid didn''t even say anything, just kept tripping him up when he moved until the soldier realised there was something wrong with his footwork. It was too stiff. Stiffening his legs had been good for bulking them up so they could keep up with his ever-moving hands. It was better to be loose in combat, fluid, and adaptable.


    He polished his basic swordsmanship over months of travel. Noid never offered to teach him any elaborate techniques, and the soldier never asked to learn. He still had yet to master the basics after all.


    Like that, they arrived at their destination. They''d kept off the main roads, never entering any cities. In the end, their destination was a little settlement to the North and East of the border region the war had been in. A settlement - arguably a village - occupied by mercenaries and their families. And to a one they all knew Noid. He was a celebrity.

 Chapter 7: Settling Down (For a While)

    Rafe sat and watched a pink-haired girl on the big screen. His father was probably somewhere backstage. He hadn''t seen them in months, and now he was finding out what they''d been up to. He slumped his shoulders.


    First, his mother had gone, and now they too had left. She sounded good though. And maybe this would help his father get over his years-old heartbreak. He was relieved on his father''s behalf, he truly was.


    He should have been happy for his sister too, but they''d never been close. He was alone, always alone, forever alone. He sat on the chair and watched his father''s latest star sing. She was a stranger to him, such a familiar stranger.


    ****


    He woke with sweat pouring from his eyes like it normally did when he had those weird dreams he couldn''t seem to remember. It was sweat and nothing else, he was sure. Just sweat.


    When he woke, he remembered nothing of those dreams. They helped him. Helped him to wake up earlier than most people and train even before his official training was set to start.


    Of course even as he performed his drills, he watched the young prince of the village perform what ought to have been his millionth drill of the day. Perhaps stronger people didn''t need to sleep as much as weaker ones.


    That seemed unfair to him, but it wasn''t entirely impossible. He''d never be able to catch up to Noid if the boy naturally needed less sleep. It got him thinking about Noid¡¯s advice.


    ¡®No fight is over until one of the combatants can''t go on anymore. Even if you are weaker, there are ways to win. I''m not preaching to you to learn guile, gods know that is a losing battle.¡¯


    ¡®You just said no fight is over until¡ª¡¯


    ¡®There is such a thing as impossible fights, disciple. There are beings out there¡­¡¯ Noid hesitated, shuddered. ¡®I know the kind of sword you wield. A direct sword, a sword that can cut anything. Or it should be able to cut anything. What happens when it can''t though? Do you just roll over and die? Stay and fight? And die? No. You run. Listen to me boy, you must run when a fight is beyond you. It is rare, but it will happen if you continue on this path.¡¯


    Funny it was, being called boy by a prepubescent boy. In truth, the recruit had chosen his philosophy to simply believe in his sword, and if his sword failed, then he''d be dead.


    Since arriving at the Wilde mercenary company, Noid hadn''t been training him personally, Jonathan had.


    Jonathan Wilde was the chairman of the mercenary company, and he''d once trained Noid in the art of swordplay as well. Even if he was a master, Jonathan was proficient in only one sword style, like every other normal warrior.


    Noid knew the four major schools of swordplay, and he had knowledge of a few techniques from lots of lesser schools. He even had techniques he''d picked up from other weapon specialists like spear users, dagger wielders, hatchet men.


    Still, at his graduation from basics to sword school selection, Jonathan had taught him all he knew about the Revered Sword Saint style. He also knew the basics of the Northern Wind Spirit, but he was hopeless in the dwarven Earth Shattering school, let alone the Demon God''s Promise School.


    As happened every day, the two fought for a little over thirty minutes.


    The Revered Sword Saint style was fast, even if the slashes were weak. If it made contact with flesh, it would penetrate pretty deep, no question about it. Its signature move was an advanced sword barrage where a practitioner could release almost ten thrusts a second, like fighting ten warriors at once. As a master, Jonathan could make a one-hundred-slash sword barrage in a second if he chose to.


    Noid was only advanced tier. Sparring with a master tier swordsman hit different. Especially on the rare occasions, when Jonathan demonstrated his sword barrage. A hundred slashes, a very high-end number for a master according to him, and he had such precise control over what they cut.


    All the months he''d spent traveling with Noid, and now here in the town, the soldier had spent just over a year training since the war ended. He wasn''t anywhere near the intermediate rank in the Revered Sword Saint style though.


    And his battles with Jonathan always left him scrambling just to keep up with the man''s barrage. And then he''d run out of juice while the older man had barely broken a sweat. He said older man, but Jonathan was barely into his thirties. He was a tall man, lithe, blonde and patterned with evident laugh lines on his cheeks.


    ¡°Hmm, is it me, or are you getting a lot faster?¡± Jonathan asked.


    The soldier snorted, exposing his teeth in a self-deprecating smile, and rubbing the back of his head.


    ¡°Definitely just you.¡±


    ¡°No, no, listen, kid, you''re faster than before, and your coordination is good too. Your reactions are getting better. Your hits still barely affect me though.¡±


    ¡°So, when do you think I''ll graduate from the beginner rank?¡±


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    The man shrugged. ¡°All men are not created equal, kid. We can''t all be geniuses with stamina so ridiculous it''s illegal,¡± he said, sparing a glance at the still-drilling Noid.


    ¡°You only graduate when you can beat daddy,¡± one of their two daily spectators said.


    Both men gave the little blonde girl indulgent smiles.


    ¡°I can already beat daddy. Right Sylpha?¡± the soldier asked the second girl.


    The girl hid her face between her fingers, only peering out to see if she''d successfully disappeared from everyone''s attention. She had not. They were still looking at her.


    The other girl, the more bold one, rolled her tongue out at the soldier.


    ¡°You are lying. Daddy is the strongest. Even big brother Noid can''t beat him.¡±


    Jonathan winced at that, and that immediately got the soldier''s attention. Noid could¡­ beat a master swordsman?


    ¡°Annie! Sylpha!¡±


    The girls jumped from their patches on the ground. The shy one was looking in the direction of the shout with wide eyes but Annie was swiveling her head from left to right. She put a finger to her lips.


    ¡°Ssshhh. We were never here. Come on Sylpha.¡±


    She grabbed her sister and dragged her to some hiding spot Jonathan and his charge had no intention of knowing more about.


    ¡°Where are those girls?¡± a crimson-haired red-cheeked woman said not even thirty seconds later. ¡°I told them not to disturb their father and brother''s training, but do they listen to me? I ought to¡­¡±


    She walked off without even waiting for the soldier or Jonathan to respond. The soldier had frozen with a greeting on his tongue. Jonathan didn''t even notice.


    ¡°Listen, I outta go take care of my duties as a business owner. We''ll pick this up tomorrow.¡±


    Jonathan didn''t notice the boy still looking after his wife with a stupefied face.


    ¡°...brother¡­¡± he breathed.


    Thirty minutes later and he couldn''t get the word out of his head. He needed a distraction. He did have nothing to do except train, train, and train all day so he went off to join a couple of the other recruits in their drills.


    Noid was so above average even as a child he could only spar with the trainers to get something out of it. He sparred with experienced mercenaries daily. And now, after the war, they were barely a challenge to him.


    With the war having lasted an indeterminate amount of time, and the year he''d spent traveling and staying in this village, the soldier wasn''t sure he was still a teenager. He was a man grown now, just waiting for his beards to grow in. And as a child Noid had been stronger than him as an adult.


    He did not have the pride to challenge the trainers head-on. He took part in the mock battles between recruits the trainers organised instead.


    The soldier clicked his tongue as he dueled a spear user in a magically projected field. It felt solid, but in truth, they were only on a very expensive training array. The array projected them into a random phantom field where they duked it out as the trainers and their peers watched. Every extra minute they spent, the air grew heavier. Moving their legs got harder with time.


    It was an effective way to train up both stamina and strength, but also a timekeeping measure. The soldier hated fighting spear users, especially this particular girl. She had long red hair, and long arms that the trainers said made her perfect for the spear.


    She was good at it. He liked watching her long athletic legs dance back after she executed a glancing strike. He tried to keep up, but he had to exert himself to try and bridge the range advantage. She grinned as she deflected his swings with the simplest of movements. She was the best.


    He grinned back, enjoying the exertion. The air got heavier, and before he knew it, there was no more dancing, no more grace. Just strong swings and thrusts, simple backward movements and heavy breath.


    He got impatient. This was his chance. He''d thought this before, and he''d been wrong then, but he could feel it this time.


    He darted in, already crouching low to use the heavier air to his advantage. The girl brought the butt of her spear close to her body and deflected his first swing as she usually did. She was proficient at the close range too, and that was why she was considered an advanced spear user.


    Her deflection must have not gone to plan this time because she showed a hint of surprise after impact. The soldier felt a hint of pride, but didn''t let that distract him for the time being. He swung and swung. And then he noticed she hadn''t moved her spear for the last few swings, just leaving it to guard most of her left flank.


    He smiled and - as fast as he could -changed the angle of his crouch, of his swing. He saw the moment her eyes widened in realisation, and he smiled bigger.


    His sword ascended to end this farce once and for all, only to be stopped by her well-armoured forearm. It did cut through armour and flesh, to be honest, but he was unable to penetrate bone yet. The girl gritted her teeth to keep from crying out, but then she grinned in satisfaction.


    The soldier realised his sword was stuck in bone, and fighting without it was just¡­ The butt of a spear struck him straight on his forehead, disorienting him for an instant. Enough time for him to be gutted, eviscerated with impunity.


    They were sweating and panting and leaning against each other by the time the magical dueling field had collapsed.


    ¡°I¡­lost again¡­¡± the soldier gasped out.


    ¡°Yeah¡­but you almost¡­had me. You are fast¡­I can hardly follow your swings anymore. I am supposed to win, I am an advanced-level warrior, you know.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well, that''s enough of that. Maybe we can talk about something more interesting,¡± he asked hopefully.


    ¡°Like why your eyes have been glued to my chest this whole time?¡±


    He turned all his attention to her chest, then up into Celene¡¯s red face. He shrugged without shame or remorse.


    ¡°I think you know why my eyes have been glued to your chest this whole time.¡±


    The girl blushed harder, he hoped.


    ¡°You¡­¡± she huffed. ¡°Maybe if there was any chance in the void you could beat me.¡±


    The soldier lost all his other fights that day, but he performed like that on most days. He called his fellow trainees recruits, but they were experienced adventurers one and all. They were just taking lessons from their betters in-between assignments.

 Chapter 8. Destined For Greatness

    Guy was courting Celene. In a village this small, everyone knew everything about everyone.


    Guy - as he''d recently been named - couldn''t court any of the other girls. It would be bad form for the other girls to touch Celene''s man, as far as Guy understood it. Too bad Celene would never give him the time of day, or night. The other girls and women pretended they didn''t notice if he made a pass at them.


    ¡°And how long have you been courting the girl?¡± Jonathan asked during their morning spar.


    ¡°Since I came to this village, so about eight months now. Though she hasn''t been here all the time, she goes off for days or even weeks at a time on missions.¡±


    ¡°I could almost assure you the girl doesn''t hate you or anything like that. It''s just romances in such a tight-knit community as our little village, they tend to be quite public affairs.¡±


    ¡°Oh. I see.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Jonathan nodded. ¡°Anyway, I think I might have just the perfect solution for you, kid.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°Me and the family, in fact, most of the village will be heading over to Hossford city a little to the North and West. We''ve been hired by a couple of the neighbouring villages as escorts for them as they take their produce to market. I figured it''d be a great opportunity to get you registered with the adventurer¡¯s guild.¡±


    ¡°Huh? You sure I should come?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Although I''m a master, sparring with only me can only get you so far. Don''t think I didn''t notice you broke through the intermediate rank in your second style already. That''s as far as I got in the Northern Wind style. There is talent in you kid. You should be able to find more opportunities to train once we are in the capital.¡±


    ¡°Really? You think I''m talented?¡±


    ¡°I suppose you wouldn''t have a frame of reference, seeing as how you have no memories and all. Reaching the intermediate tier in any weapon or style, let alone two styles like you¡­ I just can''t compare it to anything worthwhile now. Look at this, Noid isn''t yet a master of anything but he is among the ten strongest warriors in the kingdom, if not the world. The kingdom has about sixty or so weapon masters, but only nine people above that tier. Noid is one of those nine, although he is the lowest rank.¡±


    ¡°You are ranking Noid above the masters?¡±


    ¡°He can exchange blows with any master. Well, he can do that, and win at least seven out of ten times. And that was well before the war. After his involvement in that war, I feel like his inability to step into the master realm shouldn''t be ridiculed, it should be feared.¡±


    ¡°Why is that?¡±


    ¡°Because there can only be one reason for that: he is trying to consolidate his power, strengthen his foundation, perhaps even invent a whole new style of his own before he ascends. Only, how much more solid can his foundations get?¡±


    Even Guy was lost when he thought about it. Noid was truly a scary person who somehow still looked like a kid.


    ¡°Anyway, what were we talking about? Oh yeah, having such a high aptitude for so many sword styles is not a small thing. And we haven''t even tasted the extent of your talent. You are not the fastest learner, but you are not the slowest by a long margin. People take years just advancing from the beginning to the intermediate rank while only pursuing one style.¡±


    Guy started to rub his chin, lost somewhere in his mind, thinking about all the losses he''d accrued over the last more than half year of sparring with the other trainees. He''d started to win some in recent weeks, but he was still nowhere near strong enough to beat Celene, even if he made her work for her wins.


    ¡°And besides,¡± Jonathan was saying with an uncharacteristic smirk. ¡°Why are you acting like you need to be convinced to come to the city with us? It''s a bigger pond, therefore it''s the perfect place to deal with your lady problem.¡±


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    Guy¡¯s eyes widened, and Jonathan thumped him on the back and laughed like a maniac.


    ¡°Is that right?¡± an ice-cold voice said from behind Jonathan. ¡°Is that why you want to go to the city then?¡±


    Jonathan''s face froze, his lip twitched, perhaps in some kind of prayer. She was there though, his wife was.


    Maria Wilde had been a maid at Duke Ellan¡¯s house when Jonathan had been a contracted guard. Now the two had a home and had built a village and a successful business around it, and they had fostered one of their old employer''s sons. Noid Ellan stood behind the fuming woman, holding their two now scared-looking daughters.


    Guy put his arms up in a nonthreatening gesture and walked as slowly as possible from the lady''s line of sight. He walked past her, but the cute little girls were just too much for him to ignore. He tried to play as quietly and as fast as possible before he was out of there like the wind.


    ****


    Guy walked next to Celene on most of the journey. He noticed the expectant looks the others, even Celene, kept sending his way. It was his first mission, though, and he was completely focused on not making a fool of himself.


    It wasn''t because he was sure the girl would reject him, or because he was kind of nervous because Noid was right there ¡ª he''d seen more than one of the girls he''d eyed up staring at him admiringly. Guy sometimes even believed Celene might have a thing for Noid. She probably wouldn''t mind if he pursued her and every other girl in their village. Heck, even Guy¡ª


    He did not complete that thought, instead scanning his side of the road for the fiftieth time. His rest was called for not a few minutes later, and for some reason, Celene sat next to him. There was something wrong with the way she was acting this whole journey.


    He decided he would confront her about it, so he lifted his head and turned to her. Their eyes met. She''d already been facing him, waiting for him to look at her.


    ¡°You¡ª¡± they both said at the same time.


    His eyes opened wide, and her cheeks burned. None of them looked away though. Guy felt there was some kind of trial here and whoever looked away first would be the loser.


    He inclined his head, intending to let her speak first. She nodded in acknowledgement, sighed, and started.


    ¡°Look, about your advances these past few months. Were¡­we ¡­were you serious? I couldn''t tell if you were joking or not, but then everyone was taking you seriously, and the girls were ribbing me about it, and you just kept on coming. I¡­¡±


    He sighed when she didn''t continue. ¡°I''m sorry it was hard on you, Celene.¡± He looked away first, his stomach dropped for some reason he didn''t know. ¡°I was serious.¡±


    ¡°Y-you, you were? You are not anymore?¡± she said in a slightly panicky voice.


    ¡°I''d like to keep being serious, but really, I think I should have gotten the message a lot earlier.¡± He smiled self-deprecatingly.


    ¡°You¡­¡± her voice broke, and Guy turned to look at her in surprise. Tears were flowing down her face. ¡°You just took me by surprise, okay?! I have never had a boy running after me. I was always too violent, or much stronger it bruised their egos, but you didn''t give up even after I''d defeated you a thousand times. I just thought¡­¡±


    But once again, she couldn''t find the right words to continue. She stormed off crying, and for a few moments, he froze. But then he stood up, stretched his hand out and started to shout for her to wait for him.


    His trailing hand was grabbed by a calloused hand. He turned around, surprised, and looked into intense brown eyes set on a body shorter than his own.


    ¡°We need to have a bit of a word,¡± Noid said.


    Guy hesitated. He wanted to go after Celene, but he couldn''t remember the last time he''d spoken to Noid. It was strange when he thought about it. Noid was supposed to be training him, but he''d passed him on to Jonathan. When Jonathan had nothing more to teach him, shouldn''t Noid have stepped up to help him learn new styles or whatever? Why had no one ever questioned anything? Why hadn''t he?


    Yeah, fuck this shit. This whole shit could wait. Celene was in tears, that strong woman.


    ¡°It''s about the girl,¡± Noid said, probably having noticed Guy was going to leave him either way.


    Guy froze in indecision, but finally, he followed the child wonder.


    ¡°So, what''s it you have to tell me?¡± he asked testily.


    Noid winced. ¡°I''m sorry you think my teaching style is a bit lacking. I don''t think I''m planning to change it though. It is working for you.¡±


    ¡°Then what is it you want?!¡±


    ¡°A person like you, a person destined for greatness, your relationships need to be a little better chosen.¡±


    ¡°Destined for greatness?¡±


    ¡°Your whole coming back from the dead trick. You think I don''t know something so important about my apprentice?¡±


    ¡°What are you¡ª¡±


    ¡°Such an ability is not a simple thing, boy,¡± the boy said. ¡°It''s an impossible power, one that probably has a big cost. Why would the world give you such a boon? It''s like this whole world is a trial, built to turn you into a hero. And you think you have the time to pursue such meaningless relationships?¡±


    ¡°The world¡­? A trial?¡±


    ¡°Look, I''m not trying to make a clone of myself. You''re free to do whatever you want, but at least consider my words.¡±


    The boy left, and Guy was lost. He stared toward Celene''s path at last, knowing that possibility was now in the past.


    A week later, the whole company knew something had happened. Celene and Guy were kept as far away from each other as possible. All the females looked at him angrily, but he wasn''t going to chase any of them anymore. He didn''t hear about or from Celene at all.


    When they reached Hossford city, Guy went with Jonathan for his adventurer''s guild registration. He didn''t have the heart to take in the sights, the towering castles in the central district, the merchant district, the lower district, the walls ¡ª a hive of activity like no other. Everything was dull on the first visit to a major city he could remember.


    Somehow, Guy knew he didn''t get the standard treatment. Jonathan hadn''t bragged about it, but being one of only sixty-seven weapon masters was probably a big deal. The receptionist had started asking Guy to fill out some form when she spotted Jonathan. Her whole demeanor shifted.


    ¡°Mr Wilde, the guild master can see you and your apprentice anytime.¡±


    Jonathan smiled at her, ¡°thanks, miss. I''ll take you up on that.¡±


    There was some kind of trial to join the guild, and from the battered swordsman holding a broken sword and an empty hilt, it had a combat potion. The man had gone in with two swords and returned with a hilt and half a sword.


    Guy frowned at the glaring swordsman, then he shrugged and followed behind Jonathan. It''s not like he was ever going to meet that minor character ever again.


    Of course, he met said minor character again just a few hours later, and the youth remembered him well.

 Chapter 9. A New Adventure

    Guy hadn''t had the easiest week thus far, and this whole situation wasn''t helping. At least meeting the guild master - a master-level spear wielder - was a decent few hours.


    The guild master was big and scarred. And he had a boisterous way about him. He was good people, in Guy''s opinion. Jonathan introduced him as his old friend Kayle.


    ¡°I never got to congratulate you over becoming the youngest weapon master in decades!¡± the guild master spoke as he grabbed a glass from a cabinet behind his desk.


    Jonathan laughed awkwardly. ¡°Well, pretty sure my record will soon be put to shame.¡±


    Master Kayle¡¯s smile froze for a moment, but he shrugged like he was throwing something annoying off his shoulder.


    ¡°There are always anomalies. I mean sure, you were an anomaly yourself to some people, but that damn kid, it''s like he was born with a sword in his hand.¡±


    He poured two drinks, the two shared a drink in silence and stared off into the distance in some thought. The guild master cleared his throat and looked at Guy after a while.


    ¡°So, who is this? It''s rare for you to accompany a new mercenary yourself.¡±


    ¡°This?¡± Jonathan touched Guy''s shoulder. ¡°This is Guy Wilde. Taught him some of the things he knows. He is good. Perhaps not as good as the anomaly, but he is good. What is it, kid?¡±


    ¡°You¡­gave me your name?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Yeah. You don''t have a name, and the kids and the missus have taken to yah. It is not so a big deal.¡±


    Guy looked away before Jonathan could see the gleaming in his eyes.


    ¡°But what happens when I remember my old name?¡±


    ¡°Just keep it, either as a middle or last name. You''re part of the family now, kid. We won''t be letting you go.¡±


    ¡°...family¡­¡± he whispered.


    ¡°I do respect your opinions, Jon,¡± the guild master brought them back to the point, ¡° but there are still a few protocols we''ll need to follow to increase his adventure status from wood to copper rank. And then to iron, the least rank you accept into your mercenary company.¡±


    Jonathan leaned in and tried to whisper, but Rafe still heard him.


    ¡°Psst, I believe he can also learn all four styles.¡±


    ¡°What?! How?!¡±


    ¡°Shush, not so loud!¡±


    ¡°You and your damn¡­¡± The guild master struggled to collect himself. ¡°In anycase, only the boy''s actions can be used to judge this part of the test. He may be a strong warrior, but that is not all adventuring is about. To join your mercenary company, the boy will¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don''t worry, Guy won''t be part of the mercenary company for now.¡±


    ¡°What? Why?!¡±


    Guy was bewildered. Hadn''t Jonathan just said he was family?


    ¡°Look kid, you don''t have the best reputation right now, what with yours and Celene''s relationship.¡±


    ¡°There was no relationship,¡± Guy complained.


    ¡°Yes, there was none. But the company is pretty tight-knit, and you are new. If there is a fight, they will side with Celene. I''m doing this so that at the end of the day, you''ll want to join the company again. If you come back now and the others irritate you too much, you might give up on the company.


    ¡°Think about this like you taking a break from the company to learn more about yourself. Besides, I did see you get into some kind of fight with Noid. So I''m guessing he can''t train you in any of the other major styles like I wanted him to.¡±


    ¡°No, he will not,¡± Guy said with a sigh.


    ¡°So I figured you''d need your adventurer''s reward money to purchase lessons from various swordsmen here in the capital. You have no memories, boy. Go on adventures, meet some friends, some girls even. You leave a boy but you''ll return to us a man grown.¡±


    Guy was reluctant, but Jonathan had thought of everything.


    To have his status as an adventurer settled, he and a couple of others were slated to go on a monster extermination mission a few days away from the city.


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    Guy had to see the twins before he left because he was unsure when he''d get to see them again. Maria gave him a packed lunch. He took both Jonathan''s and Noid¡¯s differently expressed advice and walked away from the mercenary company without talking to anyone.


    And now he''d met this guy, who hated him for some reason he couldn''t fathom. Well, maybe he could fathom it a bit, but why did this guy even remember his face? If Guy hated someone, he''d just ignore their existence. He only remembered the swordsman because he found his dual swords interesting, although they''d been broken at the time.


    ¡°In this test, you''ll be required to kill a specific number of goblins per head. You can do it as a group, or as individuals. Your choice,¡± the nice woman in adventurer''s leathers finished.


    Guy looked at the five others he''d be taking the test with. A female with pointy ears and a very slim body, a big man who carried no weapon and was acquainted with the annoying swordsman, and a fiery haired, fiery-eyed girl who was not much older than him. Her hair matching her eyes reminded him of something, but he wasn''t quite sure.


    ¡°It''s rude to stare,¡± the fiery-haired woman said, her eyes narrowed. ¡°Is it your first time seeing nonhumans, you racist?¡±


    Guy wasn''t sure his answer was what she expected when she asked that question.


    ¡°It is the first that I can remember,¡± he answered. ¡°I haven''t travelled a lot.¡±


    The two women looked at each other. And then his brain processed the question he''d been asked to completion. His eyes widened. The fiery-haired woman was not entirely human. But she looked like one, just a lot more beautiful. He needed to find out more about the world outside his little bubble, he decided.


    ¡°Me and Grunter can fill out our quarter,¡± the testy swordsman said, his eyes focused on Guy, the challenge in them clear.


    The giant grunted in affirmation.


    The two women looked at Guy, hesitated, looked back to the other two pointedly.


    He shrugged. ¡°I suppose I can go it alone.¡±


    ¡°Huh, but the elf girl is a healer, how is she going to fight goblins on her own?¡± the swordsman complained, ignoring the obvious.


    ¡°Why don''t you take her?¡± Guy asked, very reasonably, he thought.


    ¡°Take her? What? We are in a competition, and you having more comrades than me is a concession on my part, kind of like a headstart, an advantage.¡±


    Guy sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. ¡°I don''t remember agreeing to a competition. Besides, the other girl looks like she wants to join your party, and they look like a package deal.¡±


    ¡°That''s right,¡± the girl said, ¡°don''t make decisions for all of us. No one made you our leader or anything.¡±


    Guy had never worried about it before, but was there a possibility he was repulsive to women? Sure he did think he was a bit boring (what with having no past to speak of), but was there something about him that physically reviled women? He frowned, considering whether he should ask the two women, but then he remembered their testiness after his creepy staring. That must be why they didn''t want to party with him, he decided. It had to be.


    ¡°Huh, this does not mean I give up!¡± the swordsman advanced toward Guy with a finger raised. ¡°I will bring twice, no, thrice the required number of goblins, and I will not allow to be healed during combat.¡±


    ¡°How will my worth be measured then?¡± the healer questioned.


    ¡°You will heal me after he admits defeat. Besides, I''m not the only warrior. You will provide magic support, right Jasmine?¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± the orange-haired woman, Jasmine apparently, answered.


    Guy tuned her out as he started to follow the guild supervisor.


    The woman must have figured the discussion was done, and now they were moving out. Guy could only remember two times he''d travelled before. The first was with Noid. They travelled together for months after the war. They did not have tents. They only ate meat they hunted. As a soldier without memories, Guy had been no stranger to sleeping under the sky especially on those first days when he couldn''t remember where his tent was or how to access it. Maybe that was why he''d taken to it like a fish in water. Noid was the quiet sort, only ever speaking if it was necessary. On the second occasion he travelled, he was escorting a caravan along with everyone else in the Wilde mercenary company, with all the awkwardness that ensued.


    This adventurer''s excursion was a walk in the park in comparison. They only had to walk two days, and he could go two days without speaking to anyone. He didn''t think it was something to be proud of, but those were his circumstances.


    When the guild supervisor ordered them to camp, Guy watched the others set up their tents in silence. He was thinking maybe Noid didn''t know everything. When he''d travelled with the Wilde company to the capital, everyone had tents. He''d thought they were soft, because Noid had been there too, and he never slept in a tent.


    He frowned and thought about it for a time, but then he decided sleeping in an open sky wasn''t too bad. Even the cold had barely affected him during the winter. It was like he had been passively resisting the effects of the weather and the environment ever since. He only slept indoors rarely even when he was at the Wilde village.


    With a shrug, he stepped out of the clearing they''d decided to camp in and entered the forest. He needed some privacy, to ease a few natural urges before he exhausted his muscles in another round of drills.


    They were all asleep when he returned. Even the supervisor had a tent. He picked a tree from which he could view the whole camp and went to sleep.


    Guy woke three times that night, spooked by animals trying to sneak into the camp. He frowned when he realised none of his fellow test takers had thought to leave a watch or anything. Was it part of the test as well? The supervisor hadn''t said anything since they''d chosen their teams the day before.


    ¡°Where is the other one?¡± he had the supervisor ask the next morning.


    He slept lighter, he found, since he started training with Noid.


    ¡°Right here!¡± he shouted from his tree quite a ways from the clearing. ¡°I didn''t bring a tent so I slept over here.¡±


    The woman tilted her head. She had acquired a pair of reading glasses since he had seen her last. It brought out her narrowed eyes, in his opinion. She had changed a bit in only one night of sleep.


    She had ditched the adventurer''s wear and was now dressed in official-looking robes like most of those receptionists at the guild. It was weird that he found the official clothes more enticing than the adventurer''s clothes that had so hugged her body, leaving nothing to the imagination. Maybe he liked to imagine she was wearing nothing under that robe.


    ¡°You¡­slept?¡± she asked, adjusting her reading glasses.


    Guy jumped off the tree, performing a series of acrobatic movements to land with grace, safe.


    ¡°Of course I did,¡± he answered her. ¡°And may I just say, I love what you did with your hair.¡±


    She gave him a blank look. In the background, Guy could see the realisation shaping on the other¡¯s faces. He hadn''t done it out of spite or anything, but the looks on their faces were priceless. No, for some reason, he thought this was what Noid would have done in a situation like this. It was a teachable moment.


    ¡°You¡­love what I did with my hair?¡± the woman asked, her tone low, slow.


    As a man used to the anger by now, he let most of the scathing remarks the woman had for him flow off his back. Her hair was still ungroomed after a whole night''s sleep, and his compliment seemed more like an insult - therefore disrespect to a superior - and would go on his permanent record.


    There were some positives though. He got her to speak a lot more that morning than she had all the hours they''d travelled the day before.

 Chapter 10. A Beckoning Hunt

    Everyone openly glared at Guy the next few hours of travel, even their formerly neutral supervisor. When they took a lunch break, his cohorts approached him for a talk.


    ¡°You do realise we''re doing poorly, don''t you,¡± the half-elf spoke first.


    ¡°I can''t decide whether to praise your daring or applaud your stupidity. You outed our blunder, then proceeded to disrespect our supervisor,¡± Jasmine said with a groan.


    The giant man grunted, looking deeply at Guy but having no words for him.


    ¡°Are you trying to sabotage our competition?¡± the swordsman asked.


    Guy didn''t want to. He didn''t want to, but that day he attempted to roll his eyes for the first time he could remember. He couldn''t quite pull it off. Curses! He would have to settle for mentally rolling his eyes.


    He put a hand to his chest and gasped. ¡°I would never!¡±


    The swordsman nodded. ¡°Of course you wouldn''t.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Jasmine told him with a sigh, ¡°he was being sarcastic about the competition. I think he couldn''t care less.¡±


    The swordsman looked between Jasmine and Guy in confusion. ¡°But¡­but why?¡± his eyes wide, he turned a hurt look to Guy.


    ¡°Yes, Mr¡­ I didn''t catch your name, but why?¡±


    ¡°Oh, my name is Rafe King¡­¡± the world froze for an instant.


    And like a picture being ripped in two, tears appeared on the tapestry of the world. A pin prick of pain pierced right into his brain, and he almost lost consciousness there and then. Then something in his brain fought back, indomitable, unbreakable. The pain receded, and with it the vague memories of a world without magic.


    He blinked, and all he felt was the barest shadow of the pain. The barest shadow, but it hurt way more than the phantom pain of being gutted by Celene in their sparring matches.


    He blinked away tears and looked away from the others.


    ¡°My name is Guy Wilde. And as to why I ¡®sabotaged¡¯ your mission. I just thought it would be a good learning experience. No more than three times was I woken by predators stocking the camp. If I wasn''t as light a sleeper as I seem to have become, a few of us would be dead.¡±


    Jasmine snorted. ¡°You just want to use our tents, since you didn''t bring one of your own.¡±


    But he was already leaving them to their conspiracies. He needed to get to grips with what had happened in those few moments he''d witnessed the world crack like a mirror. No sign of it remained, not even a hint, but he sure as hell saw the world almost break, and a crack had run vertically through the swordsman too. The swordsman whose name he yet didn''t know.


    They reached their target location a few hours past noon that day. It was a good pace, according to the not-so-neutral supervisor.


    The swordsman cracked his neck.


    ¡°Too bad we can''t just have a duel, and call it a day, right punk?¡± the swordsman addressed Guy.


    Guy frowned. ¡°Right. Too bad. But rules are rules, I''m afraid.¡±


    ¡°There are no rules about how or what you do after the quest is finished. I''d be happy to mediate the match for you after the allotted monsters are handed over to me,¡± the supervisor woman said in the most neutral voice she could manage.


    She couldn''t quite keep her spite for Guy from leaking out. Guy sighed inwards. He had no idea how an attempt at a compliment got him in a pickle like this. A lie! He knew how and why he''d ended up in this pickle. He noticed everyone was looking at him for his reaction to the duel. He shrugged, caring little either way. He definitely found the dual-blade wielder interesting, but he knew the Demon God''s Promise had a dual-wielding skill, although it was hardly popular.


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    ¡°Ohhhh, yeah!¡± the man shouted to the heavens in glee. He extended a hand to Guy, a goofy smile pasted on his face. ¡°Alright, let''s have a good one, Guy.¡±


    Guy blinked multiple times, another frown creasing his brow. He studied the young man in front of him, not long past twenty, average height, long brown hair tied in a warrior''s knot, ordinary looking, if not babyish face.


    The goofy grin fitted him, his boisterous personality, not so much. Guy figured he maybe was biased against loud people.


    ¡°Let''s have a good one¡­uh?¡±


    The boy looked at him in confusion, until Jasmine leaned in and told him something.


    ¡°Right! Orlandir. My name is Orlandir.¡±


    ¡°Orlandir¡­¡± Guy tasted the name on his tongue.


    He shook the man''s hand and then turned to the supervisor.


    ¡°The quarter for this task is decided at the supervisor''s discretion, depending on the testee¡¯s strengths and weaknesses as seen in other portions of testing.¡±


    Guy divided his mind into two, already knowing roughly what to expect from this information dump. He extended his aura senses, trying to find somewhere far enough away that he wouldn''t clash with the others, and he could still find enough beasts to hunt too. The beasts underwhelmed him, but he supposed a standard test would.


    ¡°The four of you will have to bring me twenty-five right goblin ears par head,¡± she addressed the partied-up group. ¡°You, on the other hand, will have to bring me thirty-five right goblin ears.¡±


    Guy bowed like a knight to a lady, formal and painfully stiff. He was trying to hide his raised brows and wide eyes.


    ¡°That''s no fair,¡± Orlandir pouted. ¡°Why does he get to kill more goblins?¡±


    The woman adjusted her, at least according to Guy, already well-adjusted spectacles.


    ¡°I took into account that most of the heavy fighting will probably fall on you and Mr Grunter. And lady Jasmine''s fire affinity is ill-suited for a collection quest¡ª¡±


    ¡°She likes me more,¡± Guy grinned at the frowning swordsman.


    ¡°That¡­that is unprofessional!¡± Orlandir half glared, half pleaded with his eyes, staring unblinkingly at the woman.


    The woman looked Guy over, her eyes scanning him from head to toe.


    ¡°Your behavior will go on your permanent record.¡±


    ¡°I''d like to read those records. Will there be a description of my good looks in there?¡±


    The woman tilted her head in consideration. ¡°Do you shift your demeanor so suddenly as a way to keep people off balance?You were being so professional the whole way here, even when you discussed the whole duel and everything.¡±


    Guy shrugged. ¡°I don''t know how my brain works, but to be honest, who does? I said what I said when I said it because it is truly how I felt. It is a sign of my genuineness.¡±


    ¡°Um-hmm. Get to it then,¡± she said with a sigh.


    Guy turned away without a word, lowering his body in a crouch and raising his hand to the back-placed hilt of his cheap long sword. Before any of the others had said anything to make plans or whatever, he was running, his head lowered and eyes peeled.


    ****


    ¡°What the hell? He didn''t wait for us to divvy up the hunting grounds or anything,¡± Orlandir complained.


    ¡°He chose the side of the forest we wouldn''t have chosen anyway. And did you see his speed?¡± Jasmine asked with a worried look in Orlandir¡¯s direction.


    Orlandir grinned. ¡°At least he''s not a well-connected waste of space. Our duel might be interesting.¡±


    ¡°I am well connected too, and so is Rhea. Are we wastes of space?¡±


    ¡°Look, I saw the two of you, even with all your connections, take all the same standard tests everyone does. That asshole, no matter how good he is didn''t even take the six months aura augmentation course. I have to show him just how weak he is.¡±


    ¡°Only I don''t think he is weak,¡± this time Rhea spoke.


    ¡°Indeed,¡± their supposedly neutral supervisor chimed in. ¡°I got a hint of his aura when he ran. I don''t know if pushing for the duel was a good idea anymore¡­¡±


    ¡°Don''t worry, supervisor. Even if I can''t beat him, I''m confident in gaining his respect. After all, he has had lots of resources thrown into him. All I am I built with my own hands.¡±


    ****


    It took Guy only a few minutes to reach deep enough into the monster den. He could have found a hundred easily. That was not why he came this deep though. This was a known monster nest, cultivated by the adventurer''s guild as a place to allow new adventurers to blood themselves.


    There was something that had surprised Guy during his earlier cursory scan of the area. He had sensed, with his aura, multiple hobgoblins, even what felt like goblin mages in the deepest parts of the nest. Just sighting more than three hobgoblins should have been enough to have a high-level team of adventurers swoop down and rain death on the nest. Whoever was in charge of this whole thing was being lax with their duties, an inexcusable act.

 Chapter 11. A Monster Society

    Guy hid amongst the highest trees and watched the most horrifying village he ever saw. They almost looked peaceful. Civilized, even. They had houses, the monsters.


    He killed five hobgoblins, but that barely put a dent in their numbers. They had yet to even notice. As for goblin mages, that was a whole other ball game he was unwilling to tackle just yet. Well, he was unwilling to take them on in their natural habitat, in this village where they were surrounded by all the hobgoblins and goblin warriors. If he could lead all the warriors out of the village and only have a bunch of mages who sucked at close range, it would be a slaughter.


    He needed thirty goblin ears, and he had five hobgoblin ears already. He was pretty sure they would be enough, but getting all the goblin mages would get him a good reward. Perhaps it could even get him into the supervisor''s good graces. Besides, hobgoblins were stronger than normal goblins, but he''d found he could still kill them easily enough, at least as long as they weren''t with the mages. His plan was a good one, he assured himself. Not a reckless attempt to measure how much stronger he had grown.


    The alarm went off in the village, and he could hear noises, like monkeys chattering, but somehow more ominous. The goblins and hobgoblins moved out of the village in small bands over the next thirty minutes.


    As he had guessed, most of the goblin mages stayed behind. He was sure only about five parties left with a mage, and there were less than thirty warriors left with one hobgoblin. Guy pushed his aura senses to where the rest of his expedition was still fighting. It was far enough away from the new scouting goblin parties.


    Still, if he didn''t wrap up this business fast enough, they''d be in some trouble. Guy attacked.


    He did not attack from the front where the thirty or so goblin warriors were still discussing something with loud animal noises and grunts. He went straight to what appeared to be a meeting of some of the goblin mages. He attacked the strongest one first, based on its aura. Even with its short green stature, it had been dressed very similarly to a human and was making the most monkey noises at the meeting. Probably some kind of politician.


    The goblin''s head flew before any of the others could realise what was happening. His second target died the next instant, but his sword bounced off the air on his third attempt. An invisible magic barrier? He cursed, but he was already running, avoiding elemental attacks as he got behind the goblin and killed it before it could adjust its shield. He launched himself into the air, narrowly avoiding a bolt of lightning. He clicked his tongue and dived away from this group. It had gotten dangerous.


    The next group was still in some confusion when he landed among them. They were standing very close to each other, and all he had to do was thrust nine times in one second to kill half the group. He could feel his muscles pulling during the whole stunt. He didn''t normally use techniques before a good warm-up, but it had been a good opportunity. He killed seven more with lightning-fast strikes before the last two rallied and began to shout. One used a magic shield, which when hit with Guy''s strongest attack launched the goblin into a grass-walled house or shelter or semi-permanent tent, helping it escape. The other goblin had very impressive control over earth magic and used the earth to pull itself away at top speed, screaming at the top of its lungs.


    Guy cursed under his breath but he was already running towards his next group of victims. He needed to be faster. His body was letting him down, slower to react to his instructions than he would like. He killed three groups of goblin mages before he found himself back to the group he''d attacked first.


    He thrust forward five times, killed five times. His sixth attempt was blocked with a clang, the reverberations causing his arms to spasm as he was forced back.


    It was a bigger goblin, almost the size of a human being, dressed in a shirt of hide and a loin cloth, and holding a crude shield. Crude but effective. He had barely caused the shield to shake with his last thrust.


    Which was very reasonable. Whilst they were fatal, his thrusts were more speed-focused than strength. They could overpower a weaker opponent, but could only try and penetrate the guard of the strong - not necessarily stronger - opponents.


    His rhythm broke when he bounced back from his failed attack. He had been in a trance of swings and thrusts and darts and lunges. It was almost like he was taking time to hone his basics, to warm up before the main fight. It seemed the hobgoblin who had been left in the village wasn''t a run of the mill mob. His rusty-coloured and tangy-scented club proved that. Guy took his tip-down stance, took a breath, and once again his vision changed.


    It was only him and the hobgoblin, who charged first. Guy tensed his muscles and swung, the sword clanged off the metal shield and sparks flew. Guy was launched into the air, he landed a few inches back, and the club was already coming for him. Letting the attack push him back, Guy got some distance. He crouched, trying to get ready again.


    The club met sword in another shower of sparks, and strength met refined technique. Guy''s sword should have been pushed back, but instead, it slid off the surface of the club, going upwards even as the hobgoblin froze. Like a snake, it launched forward and took a nibble at the goblin''s hand. And a finger flew.


    Guy flowed past the goblin, landing behind the behemoth. It screamed in rage and the whole forest froze. Guy knew it then, and it filled him with no small amount of horror and pride.


    Here before him stood someone so much stronger, so much more resilient, impossible for him to defeat. He had landed upon the big bad boss, probably the leader of this whole forest goblin settlement. And the goblin''s body was swelling. It got taller, its muscles bulged out. It was almost the size of an ogre.


    ¡°Why? Why you puny humans come to our home, kill us?! You are weak. We capture your homes¡­¡±


    Guy took a breath. He could feel his stamina flagging. As for the rest of the expedition force. They were withdrawing, he could tell from their movement patterns. Hearing the roar of a mutant creature, they must have decided they were in over their heads.


    Guy took another stance. He couldn''t win under normal circumstances, sure, but these weren''t normal circumstances. He could feel it. His body was tiring, his muscles torn, his breaths laboured. He could not escape from here. But he didn''t need to. He was on the verge of something. If he survived a few more minutes of this, he was pretty sure something big was going to happen.


    He could almost feel the world edge him on. He remembered Noid''s words about the world being a trial and whatnot, then he promptly dismissed them. He crouched and launched himself forward with a lunge.


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    The battle resumed. The trance took him, deeper than ever before. His breaths were slow, his senses were elevated but focused. He noticed everything his opponent did to the smallest detail. They exchanged attacks hundreds of times over the next thirty seconds, and hundreds of wounds gathered on the goblin''s body. Still, at the end of those thirty seconds, Guy was launched through five houses of mud and rock and grass.


    He landed with a crash, dug a furrow with his body, and blocked his sight with a cloud of dust. There was pain, sure. But for some reason, he could ignore it, cut the sensation off. He had been in pain since the moment he had seen the world tear. It felt like this world was always trying to reject him.


    He wondered why he couldn''t die.


    Not that any of that mattered. His body bruised and battered, his engine dry, Guy forced himself to his feet mere moments after his crash. He launched himself sideways even though he couldn''t see, and a crash and subsequent dust cloud told him he''d done the right thing.


    He crouched in a ready position. His enemy charged. He charged too, though with more grace than his enemy. They met in the middle. Their weapons clashed. He was not pushed back.


    He could not suddenly overpower the hobgoblin. He could, however, steal all the momentum from its hit, using its strength against it. As the club came down, his sword came in from the side and slightly angled. Instead of being pushed back, the hit pushed him to the right and down, inside the monster''s guard. With that same momentum, he slid past the monster''s body, leaving a slash on its gut.


    His body was flexible. Almost like it was made of rubber. His soul hurt like it was wrung dry. He did not have any more stamina, yet he could still move. His attacks were weak, and effortless for the beast to tank, but he could still move as long as he didn''t stop. If he stopped, once he stopped, it would be over.


    He moved back to attack, and he could see the angle where he''d need to put his sword to steal the monster''s momentum again. He couldn''t imbue strength into his attacks. A trade-off for this new boost? Still, the little scratches would add up.


    Again and again and again. The monster cried out in pain, the wounds on its body accumulating. But it was an evolved monster, and so too its mental faculties. It had seen the trick or thought it had. It was simple really, the beast''s plan. And it might have worked too, if only it had been fighting someone else.


    It decided not to clash with him. Instead, as it charged, it swung its club from overhead with both its hands. Guy was charging it when he realised he wasn''t the target. It hadn''t decided to just leverage all its strength to give him a burst of momentum he could not hold. No. It decided to destroy the ground once he was in range, make him lose his footing, and raise a dust cloud all in one go to limit his vision. Guy could not stop, so he came up with a plan on the fly.


    He was out of stamina, out of energy, but he could still move his body, his eyes sharpened, his legs pumped. Guy needed to move faster.


    The club slammed into the earth and a meter around the hobgoblin, the earth shuddered. Guy kept his eyes on the club. Even as the earth he was stepping on started to rise. He ran in the air, fighting against the rebounding pressure. His feet landed on the club and he never stopped running with his waist bent and his head pointed ahead to streamline it.


    He ran up the hobgoblin¡¯s arms and leveraged his sword¡¯s tip below the hobgoblin''s jaw. And then the rebound came, equal but opposite from the beast''s momentum. He rode the wave, his legs flailing like a flag on a windy day, his hands firm, holding onto his sword as he leveraged it below the beast''s head with all his body weight. It drove through the beast''s jaw, and even as he flew he pushed inwards, and the blade kept going upwards with him. He didn''t quite make it to the posterior, but almost two-thirds of the beast''s head was bisected vertically.


    He saw, as he flew, groups of goblin mages flying around him with their magic focused on the hobgoblin. They''d been buffing it. He hadn''t even realised the beast had gotten almost as fast as him, and almost twice as strong as it had been at the beginning, and that was after whatever midfight evolution it had gone through. Not that he hadn''t had his evolution. If he hadn''t been about to break through in some way, Guy wanted to think he''d have had the sense to run.


    A hobgoblin supported by goblin mages? That was a death sentence for more experienced adventurers. It was lucky he specialised in speed, otherwise, the mages might have had a more direct impact on the fight by targeting him. He fleeted around too fast to be pinned down though.


    As he dropped, he tried to lower the impact of his landing. He was not able to prevent at least one of his legs from breaking, but at least he didn''t just splat like some of the soft goblin mages. He had no idea how he was supposed to escape though.


    And then the roar reached him, and with a mass of blood and pulped brain for a face, the hobgoblin ran toward him in one final instinct-fueled charge. He could see the flesh of its face trying to knit itself back together, but he had cut it straight to the bone. It wasn''t going to live. He couldn''t run, and whatever had been fueling him before was now exhausted. The club came down, just as the first squads of goblins were getting back to the village. Guy was crushed, then smashed, then pulped until there was nothing left.


    When he woke up, the big monster was draped over him, and the other goblins hadn''t noticed his revival. Mostly because he was covered in blood and so much pulped and burnt flesh, most of it his. The stench was sickening. They were distracted by something. He felt the condition of his body, and aside from a kind of weariness he could feel deep in his spirit, he was in peak physical condition. He sent a tendril of awareness into the woods, then further to where he''d left his party.


    They were trying to run. But they couldn''t. The goblins and hobgoblins were there. Not as many as were here with him in the village, but he had a feeling that once whatever was distracting them was over, they''d be going after the humans.


    Waiting a few moments, he scooted out from under the former ruler of this community. He tried to be sneaky as he crawled into the bushes, but he''d never trained in that sort of thing.


    He snapped a twig with his leading hand. For a moment, everyone froze. He would have laughed if he wasn''t so terrified. He recovered first, getting up and bending as he started to pump his legs. His sword had not been removed from him, and his rugs still clung to his body. A hobgoblin got in his way, but he cut through it with a simple swing. He wanted to frown but he had no time. That had been too easy.


    He cut through a wall of fire but continued to run even as the whole forest started to burn around him. The massive spell even killed a few goblins. His mind settled into that state where nothing but his goal mattered. He cut through three more hobgoblins, almost ten spells, and just as many goblin mages. He dodged a few spells flung from behind him, cut through swathes of goblins he couldn''t even count. And around him, the forest fell.


    He found them in an encirclement. Orlandir was panting, holding two blades and trying to scare the goblins to keep them back. Grunter was just behind him, spotting more wounds than Guy could count. The supervisor had the rear, holding some kind of wand with a shining book floating next to her.


    The other two girls were in the middle, both wheezing and doubled over. The elven girl looked pale, the other looked a little better. He could see the devastation they''d wrought on the goblin population. It hadn''t been enough. They had to escape the moment signs of a monster surge appeared. He shouldn''t have been too cocky and gone into their village. This was his fault.


    He took a moment to get out of his head with a heavy breath. He''d play the blame game later. For now, all he needed to do was help them escape.


    He fell on the goblins from behind, and in his wake came spells that devastated the goblins even if they''d been sent by their allies. He''d timed it just right, ending up in the area where the goblin line was the thickest. His arrival broke the peace.


    He spared a bit of attention for the others as he danced among the goblins. The supervisor called forth a bolt of lightning, splitting it into three, six, nine before it fell amid a cluster of goblins, and if he hadn''t been very busy with a fight Guy would have stopped to gawk. The flame-haired girl pointed in the direction he''d come from, and a massive stream of lava burst out of the earth. She whirled about, and everywhere she turned lava bubbled out.


    Guy was forced to jump into their little ring to spare himself from roasting. The supervisor cooled the lava in the direction they''d come from with an ice spell. No one needed any encouragement to run.

 Chapter 12. A Partys Dynamic

    The goblins did not want to give up. They got easier to pick off the further they got from their increasingly ashen nest though.


    It was a running battle for some time, Guy making sure to keep to the rear in case any more special goblins showed up.


    He dropped back when the other''s speed had faltered for the hundredth or so time. He swung his sword almost mechanically, pulling off air-cutting techniques and sword barrages, the staples of his two styles. He almost fell over when his twisting sword failed to connect to anything. He finally fell out of his trance, looking around in confusion. There were no more goblins on their tail.


    The others noticed as well. They didn''t stop moving though. Tired as they were, they could only walk slowly for hours until they felt they were far enough away. Even the dark didn''t stop them from walking on, Rhea casting a light cantrip without any prompting.


    When they finally set up camp, no one was going to sleep and they all knew it. Guy was still in the rear, and he split off from the others before they complained too much about his involuntary nudity and whatever else. He had retrieved his pack as he''d withdrawn from the forest under intense fire from the goblin mages.


    He used the water in his flask to clean his face and arms at least. Everything else would have to wait. With that taken care of, he returned to his party. The supervisor watched him from a shared fire. She watched his every step.


    ¡°Explain,¡± she said succinctly.


    He shrugged. ¡°I realised what was happening when I ran into more than usual hobgoblin numbers, so I went to check out their camp. There were more goblins than I expected, and the leader was stronger than most of them. He evolved midbattle, and he had several goblin mages supporting him.¡±


    She gave him a blank look. He didn''t blame her. They were all too tired to do anything except stare at him, like his words were hardly registering.


    ¡°How many is several?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Somewhere between fifty and a hundred,¡± he said with another shrug.


    She sighed, grimaced, then went to rub her brow and took a long breath.


    ¡°What were you thinking? Or did you not know how many there would be?¡±


    ¡°I overestimated my abilities,¡± he said with a wince. ¡°I''m sorry.¡±


    ¡°You''re sorry?¡± Jasmine said, almost like she was whispering. ¡°You''re sorry? You''re sorry?!¡±


    The last was a shout which caused him to flinch for a second. But then he set his face and stared at the angry mage.


    ¡°You almost had us killed!¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said quietly and she quieted and looked away from him.


    No one else said anything. They just sat there in the quiet for a long moment. He was the first to leave the comfort of the fire.


    ¡°I''ll take the first watch,¡± he declared, though he didn''t plan to wake any of the others.


    The return journey passed much faster than the first. They were all rushing to get that experience out of their minds, and they all had a hard time sleeping. Guy still kept to the back of the formation.


    When they saw the imposing walls of the city, he stopped and watched the others rush for it.


    He touched his sword hilt and looked back where they''d come from. Sure, he felt bad about getting these guys in trouble. But then again, he thought his hunt might have been a lot more carefree if he''d been there alone. And it wasn''t like he could get his guild card with such a performance. He couldn''t return to the mercenary company. Maybe heading right back and eliminating a village of goblins wasn''t the worst idea.


    He looked forward. The others did not even notice when he stopped. That was kind of sad, but then again, they were not friends or anything. He turned back to where they''d come from.


    ****


    ¡°You guys should all get some rest at inns or something. Take a bath, get some good food. I''ll see you at the guild tomorrow,¡± the supervisor said without turning around.


    Orlandir smiled. It was time for a legendary fight. He''d seen the guy, Guy, fight. The man had been impressive if very predictable. Besides, he''d killed an evolved monster. It had never seemed like the right time to challenge him, what with Jasmine being very angry and poor Rhea traumatized. He looked behind him to find the boy. There was no one.


    ¡°Hmm. Where did Guy go?¡± he asked Grunter.


    The giant just grunted and lifted his massive shoulder in a shrug. The girls were going in their direction, not paying him any mind. With a shrug, he turned to head to an inn he knew well. He was sure he''d see Guy the next day. And then they''d have their duel right in the guild sparring rooms. The more watchers, the more glorious it would be anyway.


    The next day, he was called up to the guild master''s office. He''d never been there before, and he noticed there were a lot of people there too. Their supervisor was there, talking to the big man behind the desk. She saw him when he entered, and called him to stand with the rest of his party.


    ¡°He was there too?¡± the guild master asked the woman. ¡°I think all four of them will be promoted straight to iron. It was mighty impressive surviving that whole mess. And the information.¡±


    ¡°Four of them?¡± the woman asked, ¡°wait, where is that Wilde kid?¡±


    ¡°Wilde?¡± the guild master asked, and his expression turned flat.


    Orlandir noticed it, but he didn''t think any of the others did.


    Jasmine shrugged. ¡°He didn''t enter the Southern gate with us. I think he stayed behind somewhere. I doubt he entered the city.¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± the supervisor and the guild master shouted at once.


    Jasmine seemed to realise something was wrong as she looked at them in wide-eyed confusion. Orlandir wanted to shake her. She''d known Guy wasn''t following and she''d said nothing. He wanted to spar with the asshole, and she knew, and she said nothing.


    ¡°Cynthia, I hope you have an explanation?¡± the guild master said through gritted teeth.


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    The woman winced. ¡°I may have been a tad hard on the boy for overestimating his abilities. I know the others weren''t friendly with him, but I didn''t think he could¡­¡±


    ¡°Could what? Take being yelled at by a supposedly neutral supervisor as evidence he''d failed the test?¡±


    ¡°...I didn''t yell¡­¡± she muttered after a few moments of silence.


    The guild master sighed and looked at the children. ¡°Can either of you tell me where he could have gone?¡±


    Jasmine shrugged, having gotten her poise back. Rhea didn''t meet the guild master''s eyes, and Grunter just stared at him unblinkingly. Orlandir chose to answer.


    ¡°He went back to the nest. I think the only reason he left in the first place was because we were there.¡±


    ¡°Explain,¡± the guild master and supervisor said together and startled. They looked at each other, but then the guild master snorted and turned away with a glower.


    ¡°Did you guys notice he wasn''t as wounded as the rest of us? I mean when we were first on the run, he had a lot of blood and his clothes were in pieces. When he washed the blood from his face and arms, there wasn''t a wound on him. And you guys were mad at him, so Rhea wouldn''t heal him.¡± He finished with another shrug.


    ¡°So he has a potent self-healing spell? Is that what you''re saying?¡±


    ¡°That is not not what I''m saying. Or rather, not the main point. The main point is that he only left the forest because we were in danger. He did not overestimate his abilities. He just hadn''t accounted for us. So he came, saved our lives, and went back to his hunt. Or so I assume.¡±


    The guild master turned a glare on the former supervisor. ¡°You will get the boy back, or so help me¡ª¡±


    He took a deep breath to calm himself down.


    ¡°He''s one of Jonathan''s boys, you know. The monsters he is picking up left and right. If the Ellans find out a Wilde was involved... The Grandill noble house will take the fall for this oversight, but before that I need all witnesses accounted for. Find the boy!¡±


    ¡°I''ll go too,¡± Orlandir said in the intervening silence.


    He wasn''t interested in learning about which noble house they got in trouble and how the others would react. He was a commoner, after all. No need to be involved in that kind of thing.


    ¡°You will not,¡± the guild master said simply.


    ¡°Of course I will. You don''t own me. Besides, the guy owes me a duel. He ran away from it.¡±


    ¡°But we''ll need to protect you kids as witnesses¡ª¡±


    ¡°I don''t care about that, you know.¡±


    ¡°Well, you should.¡±


    ¡°I don''t. Besides, I''ll be with Cynthia here and a couple other experienced adventurers, no? I don''t see a lot of safer options.¡±


    ****


    He was restless. He slept a couple of hours every once in a while, and then he was running until he was exhausted again. By the evening of the next day, he could smell the smoke of the half-destroyed forest.


    He reached the forest on the noon of the second day. He smiled like a predator seeing his first meal in a week. It had been four days, after all. It was time to hunt. He hoped at least one of the remaining hobgoblins would give him a fight as good as the boss had.


    He fought for almost six hours, and the smarting of his muscles reminded him of the war he''d taken part in all those years ago. It was refreshing to go wild again after so long.


    He was exhausted by the end, and one of his arms had been lobed off in the fourth hour. He had multiple fractures and he was coughing blood. It was painful, but he grinned at the pain.


    And when he couldn''t lift his hands anymore they fell upon him with clubs and sharpened stones and crude iron tools. He screamed unconsciously, the pain of a blunt rock crushing his eye too strong to resist.


    When he resurrected, he could still feel all the phantom pain from the many, many stubs. He took his time to catch his breath, regain some mental energy. Two hours later he was harvesting goblins again.


    Guy destroyed the village. Some goblins managed to escape. He left those alone.


    There was a river some ways behind the village. He enjoyed a good refreshing bath.


    Then he sat in front of the shimmering orb. They''d built a hut around it, covered it up all nice and everything. It floated in that same place it had been since its birth. He touched it. It pulsed, a light in its core reacting to his touch as would a pet. It was alive. Or at least had some sort of instincts.


    He wondered what, if anything, would happen if he destroyed it. It would inconvenience the guild, and he wanted to join them eventually. He frowned up at it. It would cause a massive explosion, he was sure. It would destroy what was left of the woods.


    Something popped up at the edge of his senses just then. He collected his sheathed long sword and ran to the edge of the floating ashen remains of the forest in a half crouch.


    ¡°Relax, boy. We are allies,¡± he heard his former supervisor say.


    He stopped his charge and stood to study her and the party she had brought. Three men and two women, not considering Orlandir and Grunter. The five experienced adventurers were staring around at the bloody carnage with disbelief and confusion. The supervisor was torn between relief, scorn and a bit of smugness. Grunter had no expression to speak of, but Orlandir looked like a child who''d just received a birthday present.


    Guy frowned at the man, who noticed his look and grinned at him. Orlandir crossed his arms such that they each touched the hilt of a short sword sheathed on opposite sides. He unsheathed them, and Guy started.


    ¡°Orlandir,¡± the supervisor said in a kind of warning growl.


    ¡°I have to fight him. I have to. You can''t stop me.¡±


    And then he was charging. Guy unsheathed his blade and started to warm up even as Orlandir pressed his attack. It wasn''t easy to deal with, Guy noticed. The man had something about him. His style was crude, but he used both blades as though he could fight with both hands.


    Guy frowned. This was not the Demon God''s promise. It was a school of swordplay Guy had never even heard of. He smirked. Maybe he could enjoy this. He increased the pace of the fight, transitioning from defense to attack in one movement. Neither of his styles was particularly good at counterattacking or deflecting, they were all out attack-oriented styles.


    He was still holding back, but he was pushing Orlandir enough, testing, probing the other swordsman to see what he could do. And Orlandir always had an answer. His style had a dedicated parrying technique, it seemed.


    It took five minutes for Guy to see what he thought were the other swordsman''s limits. Still, he had enjoyed fighting someone with such an exotic style.


    He upped the tempo once more, getting his sword to twist past both Orlandir''s blades and aim for his chest. The other man used the guard of one of his swords to not only block but trap Guy''s sword for a second while his second sword came in for a counterattack. Guy dodged. Barely. Letting his sword go.


    As the sword fell, he extended his leg to try and flip it into the air but Orlandir had just set up his ultimate move. Holding both his hands straight at his sides, he started to spin and it was all Guy could do to backpedal, only slightly dodging the rotating blades with each movement. For a moment, Orlandir became a rotating whirlwind with the swords flapping up and down to make sure the whole area around him was covered in a domain of steel. Only for a moment though.


    ¡°You¡­¡± Guy was flabbergasted. ¡°What was that technique?! Are you a master? No, that can''t be right.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I''m impressive, ain''t I?¡± Orlandir said in between wheezes.


    He had fallen after his moment of glory, totally steamied.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ but you''re a beginner. You can''t be past the intermediate. You can''t just skip steps. Who was your teacher?¡±


    ¡°Teacher?¡± Orlandir scoffed. ¡°I don''t need one of those. I taught myself. I''m the best.¡±


    ¡°You¡­created your own sword style,¡± Guy said even as he deflated.


    Yeah, the guy had earned his right to be cocky. What had Guy done? He had only gotten lucky, meeting Noid and joining the Wilde company. He suddenly felt so tired.


    ¡°Your style has a lot of potential, you know. You need to get a teacher, learn the basics. Don''t skip steps. That last move of yours ¡ªa pseudo-sword domain? I have no words.¡±


    ¡°So I won?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Guy said with a sigh, ¡°you certainly did not lose.¡±


    Orlandir nodded like that was obvious. ¡°You are strong too. So what''s your plan now you''re an adventurer?¡±


    Guy looked at the supervisor with wide eyes. ¡°I passed the test?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you did. I would have told you if you weren''t so sensitive for such an annoying guy.¡±


    ¡°An annoying¡­Guy?¡± he tilted his head with a small smile.


    She snorted and threw something at him. An iron badge with his name on it.


    ¡°I''m iron already? That means I can get back to the company now.¡±


    ¡°The company?¡± Orlandir asked.


    ¡°A mercenary company. You can only join after earning iron.¡±


    He hesitated. ¡°I am supposed to wait a time before going back though. Maybe I''ll do some training in the city too¡­¡±


    ¡°Just join me and Grunter for a while! It''ll be great. We can train together! Go and the hardest missions. We''ll be legends.¡±


    Guy hesitated, remembering Noid''s warning about attachments and insignificant relationships. Hadn''t he once seen Orlandir torn in half by the world itself?


    But the man was a genius swordsman, on the other hand. And Guy found he hated solitude. He couldn''t go back to the company for now, so what was the harm in travelling with this guy for a while? He''d even get a new sword style from it. One that promised to be strong.

 Chapter 13. It Has to End Somehow

    An older, bitterer version of Noid stood and watched the world he''d created.


    ¡°So it''s almost over, heh?¡± the thief asked from beside him.


    ¡°It has to end somehow. It''s kind of hard, never having gotten this far before. Could that skill be this strong? What is the essence thinking? It''s almost unpre¡ª"


    ¡°Unprecedented? Not quite,¡± the enchantress chimed in.


    ¡°What do you ¡ª¡± Noid started.


    ¡°You don''t mean¡­¡± The first Skyholm interrupted but let the sentence trail off as he stared at the woman in question.


    ¡°Yes,¡± was all she said.


    Noid was confused for a moment, but then he understood. He had almost said unprecedented. It was the opposite of what the essence did. It worked on precedence. Always precedence.


    ¡°What about the deaths though? Could it be there is something wrong with my death simulator?¡± Noid asked at length.


    He could always count on the mental strain of a few deaths to keep his trial takers on their toes. Not this time though. The boy kept shrugging off the mental strain, none of it getting to him.


    They stood in silence for a time, watching the boy fight with his new friend. No one needed to say they were a hundred percent sure the simulator was accurate.


    He looked happy, and that forced a scowl on Noid''s face.


    ¡°If you''re right, Enith then this boy¡­ Well, the skill is a lucky find. And ignoring all those deaths. His willpower and fortitude must be something else.¡±


    Enith shrugged. ¡°That may be interesting and all, but I''m more interested in what your little turning off the system experiment is doing, Noid?¡±


    ¡°What is it doing?¡± Noid asked with a growing frown.


    It was the first Skyholm who answered. ¡°Ah, the system issue. I suspected something like this would happen, but I vastly underestimated the consequences. As his soul, being from an essence desert had not finished its full baptism, well¡­¡±


    ¡°He can''t level up, Noid,¡± the enchantress decided to put him out of his misery.


    Noid looked flabbergasted. ¡°He cannot gain levels? But then all the experience he''d have gotten from this¡­Decades wasted. Does that mean all the enemies are at only level twenty-five? No insights? Let alone concepts?¡±


    ¡°Not necessarily,¡± the enchantress spoke.


    Noid frowned at her, not bothering to ask what all the others were thinking.


    Enith shrugged. ¡°He might not be leveling up, but he is getting skill levels, stats. His enemies will be calibrated to at the very least be three times stronger than him as long as he is below level ten. Those were your specifications for the trial, no? If he was twenty-five or higher, they''d only be twice as strong.


    ¡°Anyway, I was very careful with how I made your trial, Noid. You gave very specific instructions. At some point, he is going to be as strong as a typical level twenty-five while still being level zero. He''d steamroll the trial. We had to make exceptions for people who were geniuses before they entered the trial, you know. If anything, I''d argue the trial is going to be harder for him.


    "He can only fight people three times stronger than him because he will never be above level ten. At some point, if he lasts long enough, he might fight against a level one hundred before he even gets a single level.¡±


    Noid watched her with wide eyes throughout her explanation.


    They watched another part of the make-believe world. A part which Noid was influencing as they spoke. Noid wanted to hiss at the ugly expression of the nobleman he knew so well as he spoke to lord Grandill about the unfairness of commoners getting in his business. Sure, the boys found something unpleasant in the now devastated woods, but they should have reported to lord Grandill before going to the guild. Or so his biological father kept saying. Commoners were not allowed to stand up against nobles, and so they ought to be taught a lesson. Noid turned away from the scene with disgust.


    ¡°Is that necessary?¡± the thief asked.


    ¡°Breaking his applicants is part of Noid''s trial, so maybe,¡± the first Skyholm said.


    Noid sighed. ¡°Those other trial takers were weak. Let us just see how he reacts, then we''ll go on from there. This is new ground for me. I have no intention of creating an evil clone of myself through my trial.¡±


    Everyone looked to the enchantress, who just whistled a jaunty tune and wouldn''t meet any of their eyes.


    ¡°Anyway, about the fact the boy isn''t leveling up. Do you think he''ll be able to defeat my final challenge without growing significantly stronger?¡±


    ¡°You don''t even know your final challenge yet.¡± The first Skyholm said. ¡°Besides, he is effectively immortal anyway. He can come up with tricks after fighting someone a few hundred rounds.¡±


    ¡°I will be happy if he chooses not to take the final challenge. Mostly, I''ve never had to figure it out. Even this whole manipulation routine that I had to pull. I''ve never gotten this far. And it is draining. There is a chance I might run out of energy to ressurect him."


    ¡°The strength of the skill. His resistance to time dilation is¡­ It has some potential,¡± the enchantress said, expression thoughtful.


    ¡°And that is where his experience is going, in case you were wondering. It''s weird. I could probably heal his soul, but if those wounds can¡­ there is a lot of potential there.¡±


    ¡°You mean¡­ to his skills?¡± Noid asked with a bemused expression.


    ¡°And on that note, I would like your help with my latest project, Sam,¡± Enith addressed the thief.


    The woman only snorted. ¡°So I take it you''ve decided on a gift for the boy?¡±


    ¡°It''s more like I need his help,¡± she confided.


    ¡°Well, tough luck. I have some shit I wanna give him too. You can''t change my mind.¡±


    ¡°It''s about the kids,¡± Enith said in a small voice.


    The thief just snorted. ¡°You''re gonna have to try a little harder than that. Everyone knows you''re an emotionless asshole.¡±


    The woman only shrugged and grinned. ¡°I just asked you as a courtesy, Sam. I''m not going to bribe you. I''ll just force your hand.¡±


    Then she leaned toward Noid, whispering so the thief could not hear.


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    ¡°Give him your blessing.¡±


    Noid started, ¡°but that will¡ª¡±


    ¡°Force her hand. This is the only time someone has completed your trial, and in such a way that they might completely exhaust all your spirit remnants. Don''t think I haven''t noticed you calling on the others. Your trial might not be available for the next million years, if ever. Think about it. I''ve done the calculations. He''s the perfect candidate.¡±


    Noid looked at the enchantress for a long time, then down at the boy.


    ¡°He has exhausted me, is exhausting me,¡± Noid admitted. ¡°But he hasn''t completed the trial yet.¡±


    ****


    It took Guy, Orlandir, and their quiet party mate Grunter only five years to buy a house for themselves in the city. They''d had to spend a lot of their money buying training from some of the most famous trainers in the city, even Grunter getting courses in blunt weapons and arm-to-arm combat. And they''d somehow made it all the way past bronze and into the middle of silver.


    In a few more years, Guy knew they''d reach gold rank status, only a step away from jade. In many ways, they already met most of the requirements to be golds. They were both so far into the advanced tiers. They were monsters, is what others called them. Guy was sure that was just Orlandir.


    The only reason they were still silver was time, what with training and all that. They needed to complete a set number of quests before their status was updated.


    In the guild¡¯s defense, rank was in most cases synonymous with age. Whatever special power enabled people to advance only required one thing, dedicated practice. That was why a master as young as Jonathan was a monster in his own right. In a world where people advanced unconsciously only through practice, and at seemingly the same pace, people like Jonathan and Noid, and now Guy and Orlandir were considered special.


    Guy watched Orlandir jump up and down in a downstairs room that, in a normal household, would have been a dining hall. They''d decided to turn it into a gym instead. Grunter was somewhere up the stairs inspecting the bedrooms.


    Orlandir was going to achieve mastery with his self-created style in a few months. Guy sighed. He''d had to learn two more styles of swordplay, and he''d risen to the advanced rank in all four, but geniuses still had that edge about them.


    Would he ever catch up to Noid, Orlandir even? He didn''t know the answer. He''d started to use his left hand more, in a bid to learn Orlandir''s style as well. He wanted to be ambidextrous. Still, Orlandir''s looked like the kind of style that would benefit from short twin blades.


    And all the styles were like that, he''d found. The Demon God''s promise prioritised short swords and parrying knives, while the earth-shattering preferred great swords. The Sword Saint preferred long blades, and the Northern Wind preferred sabers.


    He''d wondered why Noid used a bastard sword, but now he understood. It was what he was most comfortable with. He had to adapt all the skills he got from those many different styles and use them to create his style. That was his path to mastery.


    Guy grabbed a piece of paper from his pocket, studying the sword he''d envisioned. It was a slim saber, single curved edge, long. It had a circular guard and a long grip to accommodate two hands. It was light enough that he could hold it with one hand. And even though Orlandir, the asshole, said it was too pretty it was more like a lady''s ornament, Guy knew it was deadly too. It was also delicate, and would probably get destroyed a few times, which was why he hadn''t commissioned one yet.


    ¡°What are you thinking?¡± the subject of said thoughts slapped him on the back. ¡°Do you not like the house?¡±


    ¡°No, I like it. I was just wondering how your girlfriend Jasmine would feel once she found out I''ll be able to hear you two going at it every night.¡±


    Orlandir stuck out his tongue, tried to grin, and settled for a wince.


    ¡°Did I talk about her in my sleep again?¡±


    ¡°Maybe once or twice, or a thousand times.¡±


    ¡°Man, being too broke to keep girls around sure sucks.¡±


    Guy sighed in commiseration.


    They both looked into space, quietly contemplating their celibate lives.


    ¡°You know what, let''s get to the guild right now. Let''s take on a quest right this instant,¡± Orlandir prompted.


    ¡°Yeah, I suddenly want to get rich,¡± Guy said with a nod.


    They yelled at Grunter that they''d be going, and he answered, through a series of grunts that he was good. For some reason, Guy was starting to understand the reticent man''s language. He''d stayed with these guys for years, and he was starting to wonder whether he''d ever go back to the Wilde company. He could surely get back by now, but he did not. He went to visit Jonathan and the twins privately whenever they were in the city. The man had never brought up returning to the company, Guy had never asked.


    A few friendly faces greeted them at the guild.


    ¡°There''s our silver rank geniuses,¡± a big man called Hodo, an old acquaintance said. ¡°Heard you guys got yourselves a house?¡±


    Orlandir shrugged. ¡°You bet. And it is big. Like very big. We are like wealthy merchants.¡±


    Guy left Orlandir to do the bragging, as he was wont to do. He noticed that way more people were paying attention than usual. Maybe getting a house was a big deal? He could have sworn someone from the jade pavilion upstairs was watching Orlandir as he spoke. He wondered what was special about the floor, one of the few visible perks of reaching the high rank.


    ¡°So what quest are the new property owners thinking of taking up?¡± a gold ranker who''d never so much as spoken to him beamed at him.


    ¡°That''s private info,¡± Guy said with a frown.


    The man backed up, his hands raised and his laugh forced. Guy watched him go all the way. His head was killing him. Something was trying to probe him somehow, and he had to fight. He blinked all of a sudden, looking at the retreating man. He surveyed the rest of the common room with a growing frown, but then his headache returned and he decided to leave it.


    For some reason, the quest they got reminded him of that quest they''d done as a test all those years ago. It was a monster subjugation, although these were stronger monsters that looked like the pre-evolutionary versions of wild boars. They were bigger, almost as big as an adolescent elephant, and they had fire for manes.


    ¡°Is that a dungeon overflow?¡± Orlandir asked as they watched the stampeding monsters from a rise that semi-circled the front of the dungeon.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Guy said with a frown ¡°How is this a mandatory quest though? Isn''t this dungeon supposed to be one of the popular ones?¡±


    ¡°Who cares about any of that? This is perfect for you. I''ll just wait over here while you destroy the stampede. Then we can get all that extra reward money for a mandatory quest finished by only one party. Not to mention the boost to our rep.¡±


    Guy snorted. ¡°And the genius planner strikes again. Just dive in, he says.¡±


    ¡°Dude, it''s your specialty. The only thing that you''re better than me at. Surviving untenable odds. Think about the women, bro, the women.¡±


    Guy studied the more than two hundred monsters. He was sorely tempted. Still, the destruction they were causing was not insignificant, and the last time Guy had battled a horde of beasts he''d razed a whole section of a forest, a section that was just starting to grow back five years later. He looked at Orlandir who was staring at him with the most innocent expression, probably lost in his head thinking about women. Guy snorted. Fine, he''d do it for the crazy idiot. He''d do anything to repay this idiot for the last few years.


    It was uncomfortable, using a running start to launch himself into the air and strike with an earth-shattering technique while using a long sword. Still, using weapons incompatible with the disparate styles allowed him to prepare for when he''d use his special blade. A line ten boars long was cut to pieces. He landed in a crouch, sword tip already pointed towards the ground, and he swung before the beasts had finished surveying the new intruder.


    And just like that, his warm-up was done, and the techniques were flying, transitioning from flowing strikes to powerful diagonal slashes to heavy overhead swings to small but uncountable stabs and slashes. It was exhilarating. It was also easy to get injured, especially when he used the heavy strikes of the earth-shattering style. They were more concerned with damage than speed. Somehow he knew when he fully adopted the style he''d change its focus from strength to speed, maybe make it a movement skill.


    The injuries piled up, but he was so deep into the boars¡¯ lines that he hoped Orlandir didn''t see too much as he found a rock to hide behind and waited for the boars to finish him off. He came back swinging and tried to not get so injured this time. He''d finally found what the resurrections cost him.


    Every time he died, he resurrected with the worst headache, and it had been getting worse over time. It had started as a big blunt drill, but it had steadily become smaller over the years until at least it was as minuscule as a needle. A needle-sized drill. When it couldn''t get any smaller, it started to multiply, and now it felt like hundreds of tiny sharp drills were trying to tear his brain apart.


    He gritted his teeth and kept on fighting. If nothing, he''d at least become quite accustomed to the pain by now.


    He breathed deep as the last boar fell, using his sword to support himself. He dragged his exhausted body back to the slight rise where he''d left his friend watching. There was no way he was going to enter the overflowing dungeon alone.


    Only, shouldn''t Orlandir have talked to him by now, called out a joke or something. He was already two-thirds of the way up the slope, and there was not a sign of anyone. Wariness seeped through the haze of pain that was his head. He raised his sword and continued to trudge upwards, this time a little more consciously.


    There was no one up on the hill. Only, there should have been someone. Where was Orlandir? Why was his aura perception unable to pierce a certain area around him?


    ¡°Oh, this one has good senses,¡± a voice said from right behind him.


    Very close behind him, like he''d only need to shift his back slightly and they''d be in contact. He started to turn, but the knife was already sheathed in his neck by then.


    The illusion fell and he saw a torn and bloodied Orlandir scream in defiance against more than thirty opponents.

 Chapter 14. A Step Towards the Shadows

    On a hill not even fifty kilometers away from Hossford city, Guy Wilde saw his closest friend, his brother, his rival, die to insurmountable odds. He went down swinging. There was a whole party of jade-rank adventurers, including the assassin who''d surprised Guy.


    She was surprised herself when he didn''t go down just from a knife to the throat. If Orlandir could still fight, then who the hell was he to give up? He swung a sword at her and she only barely managed to get a dagger up to block. He still pushed her back. He wasn''t going to challenge a jade-ranked assassin to a speed-based duel.


    He had to save Orlandir anyway, and he just needed that space to use the closest thing to a movement technique in his arsenal. He flew through the air, raised his sword over his head. The great ax wielder he''d aimed for received a warning from the assassin and managed to bring his ax around just in time. The strength-based technique forced him to his knees.


    He was fast, as expected of a jade rank, and a swing of his great ax left rents in the air and moved with a wave of compressed air that was no less deadly than the sharp edge of the blades. He wondered how Orlandir had survived more than five seconds against these bastards. Especially since he had survived the ax only to get two knives to both lungs.


    He swiveled with his sword held rigidly, only for the whole battle to flicker out of existence again. He was confused for a moment, but then his left arm fell straight off his body after one perfect chop of an invisible ax. He''d forgotten about the illusion mage, the leader of the jade-ranked party named The Final Rest.


    Then he felt it. The tang of iron in the air. The illusion broke like the softest glass, and he saw the glorious battle that was the crowning jewel of his friend''s life.


    Guy had projected a few months, but the bastard had barely lasted a day before stepping into the master realm. And it was a glorious moment too. It almost looked like a magic spell. A man standing with two swords held at his sides, his eyes half closed, his stance set. He was motionless, whereas, in its advanced state, it had required him to rotate like a human whirlwind.


    A storm of swords surrounded him, and any who moved close felt the wrath of iron. Guy could see a hundred ways for the technique to develop, but it was not enough to save his friend even for all its power and potential.


    One of the jade rankers was an archer.


    He didn''t bother to aim though, as he sought to fight the sword domain with a rain of arrows. Guy didn''t know if the illusionist helped the archer fake some arrows, but he felt Orlandir''s swords cut through thousands of arrows. It was not enough.


    There were millions of arrows, and the archer also seemed to have a quick draw technique. The last batch of arrows was faster and had a coating of fire that caused micro explosions on the ground around Orlandir and in his body too.


    The archer fell back panting and a gold ranker Guy knew stepped forward to take care of him. He was some kind of support mage, and Guy knew the guy could refill other''s mana. The archer was a hybrid warrior mage type.


    That was irrelevant at the moment though, and as Guy watched Orlandir''s domain fall, he took a crouched stance, managing to balance himself with only one arm, his sword tip aimed at the ground in a one-handed grip.


    The great ax wielder stood in front of him and raised his ax in a pantomime of the earth-shattering style. Or maybe the style had been based on such heavy weapons in the first place. Guy didn''t have time to consider as he loped forward, his sword already slashing.


    Like a snake, his sword swiveled around the ax and his body followed as half the momentum meant to crash him instead increased the speed of his rush toward his friend.


    The distance would not shrink. A sword wielder using the same style as him interposed himself between Guy and his goal, and Guy just had to use the man''s swings to rush past him. He was a gold ranker, and perhaps deep in the advanced level, but Guy''s style of fighting stronger opponents was based on evasion and taking advantage of the momentum.


    He was close. The assassin appeared out of nowhere to his left and only his long-honed instincts managed to save him at the last moment. He used the flat of the blade to block and rolled sideways to disperse the momentum and build some distance.


    Even though his unarmed shoulder caused spots of black to appear in his vision, he got out of his roll straight to his feet, and straight to running like crazy.


    A sword took Orlandir through the chest even as less than two metres separated him and Guy. A boisterous man laughed, a familiar laugh. Someone who''d spoken to Orlandir just a few hours ago at the guild. The man laughed hysterically, even as Orlandir lifted his head. Tired eyes, rivers of blood flowing down them like tears, met Guy''s own, and the bastard smirked.


    ¡°... surviving untenable odds,¡± the bastard mouthed through blood-drenched teeth. ¡°That''s your specialty. That''s all¡­you''re better than me at.¡±


    His words were so quiet, only Guy could have understood them after all the time they''d spent together. He saw the moment his friend''s candle puckered out. No, not a candle, a bonfire that had enough fuel still to grow so large it would have cast Guy''s candle in shadow. Taken out just like that, and by their fellow adventurers. He didn''t know when he started screaming.


    Wounds collected on both sides as his rage-addled mind collapsed. His body moved mechanically through hundreds of movements perfected through repetition. He only came to when his body collapsed, his legs sheared off at the knees. He had only one limb out of four, and his sword was still aimed. A swing of an ax saw him lose that too.


    ¡°Hah! You don''t see that every day,¡± Hodo of the gold rankers said. ¡°He is still raring to go. Look at how those stumps of his are flailing about. Maybe we should leave him like this.¡±


    The two jade rankers nearest to Guy gave Hodo dirty looks.


    ¡°Do not play with your meals, gold,¡± the assassin said.


    ¡°He was a mighty warrior,¡± the bloodied ax wielder said as he lifted his weapon, ¡°we ought to show him the proper respect he deserves.¡±


    He saw the ax coming for his head and could do nothing. Yet he was so angry that he couldn''t help but flail ineffectually. Dismembering wouldn''t slow down his resurrection much, but he doubted even ten minutes would be enough to find these murderers still here. He crammed all their thirty-odd faces. There would be blood poured in Hossford city, starting from the receptionists of the guild.


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    ****


    There had been an explosion, and, the house involved, in the lower district of the city belonged to some newly minted silver-rank adventurers. Cynthia sighed as she stared at the two formerly two-story pieces of the rabble.


    ¡°Miss Cynthia? Fancy seeing you here,¡± an orange-haired beauty spoke.


    Cynthia saw her, looked around, and sure enough her half-elf friend was already there joining the healers at the triage center.


    ¡°Jasmine,¡± she said with a civil nod, ¡°I''d say it''s more surprising seeing you here. How is the merchant''s district connected to this?¡±


    ¡°This was an act of terrorism committed in broad daylight, near the gates of our beloved city. All law enforcement should be on the case.¡±


    ¡°You make a good point. I don''t see any of the nobles¡¯s patrols though.¡±


    Jasmine just turned her eyes to the rabble.


    ¡°Any idea about the identities of these poor souls, and were they in?¡± Jasmine asked.


    ¡°I''m waiting on that information right now. You are a hopeless investigator though. The information about this building should have been easier to find in the merchant''s district.¡±


    ¡°I was in a hurry, okay. And let it be put on record that it took me way less time to make investigator than it did you.¡±


    Cynthia just snorted, as if to say whose fault was that. Just then a bedraggled-looking aide arrived, panting and bending over her knees to catch her breath.


    ¡°Lady Cynthia, the details about the adventurers who owned that house,¡± she said and proffered the note.


    Cynthia and Jasmine bent over the piece of paper and quickly riffled through its contents. Then both their heads snapped up like they''d been slapped. Cynthia was going to say something when she noticed someone wearing a hood and standing just behind her courier. Fast as breath, the man withdrew a tiny blade and pressed it onto the girl''s back, whispering in her ear that he''d kill her should she so much as make a sound.


    Both Cynthia and Jasmine tensed. They were next to an active crime scene, for crying out loud. Lots of city guards and adventurers loitered about, yet a suspicious individual had somehow made it to stand next to them. And when he spoke his voice sounded familiar.


    ¡°Hello Jasmine, Cynthia,¡± he greeted and the hint of long hair tied in a band at the back of the hood confirmed his identity.


    ¡°You and Orlandir had gone for a quest?¡± Jasmine asked very fast, ignoring the tension of the moment. ¡°Where is he?¡±


    The hooded man stared at them for a few beats, then he sighed.


    ¡°Orlandir is dead. I''d only come here to see if I could do anything for Grunter, but I was too late.¡±


    Jasmine hung her head, and the hooded man was content to give her a few moments to grieve. Cynthia could see the fear building in her aide''s eyes, and she subtly shook her head to tell the girl not to try and sound the alarm.


    ¡°Enough of that dier news,¡± Guy said with such false cheer, that it was jarring, ¡° I heard you''re both doing well. Orlandir liked to keep tabs on you. Congratulations are in order.¡±


    ¡°Thank you?¡± they both said quietly, frowns starting to form on their faces.


    ¡°So you have the guild master''s ear again, Cynthia?¡±


    ¡°Y-yes?¡±


    ¡°Good for you. You''re, attached to this girl, aren''t you? If the guards act, well...¡±


    ¡°I won''t, I swear!¡±


    They both ignored her.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± Cynthia asked.


    ¡°Information. I want you to go to the guild, and get me all the information on the receptionists who were active during the day shift. I mean names, addresses, known hangouts, the whole deal. And you''d better do it before you tell the guild master on me. After that, I''ll let the girl go unharmed, and you can tell on me all you want.¡±


    ¡°What are you going to do to those poor girls?¡±


    ¡°Poor? I''ll guarantee you those receptionists are suddenly richer than you, a former gold rank. Now how could that be? You have ten minutes.¡±


    Cynthia rushed off, and she could see the crazy kid following her but very slowly. He didn''t want to be too near the guild when he got the information, all the easier to run from the guild master, perhaps.


    ****


    Helen of Doyle had recently received the biggest windfall of her life. Ten gold, just to tell a bunch of kid adventurers a certain quest was mandatory. When Diane had brought them the deal, they could hardly believe it. And when Hearse, the jade rank invisibility magic expert, the best assassin in the city had backed the other receptionist up, who was she to resist?


    Three silver-rank adventurers against a whole party of jades. It was such a ridiculous bet, she could not not take it. Whoever had organised the whole thing sure was meticulous.


    She wasn''t the one who''d given the boys the quest in the end, but all eleven of them on the bottom floor had been bought off. And now she and three of her colleagues were living it up in a bar all the way at the border between the merchant and noble districts. First off, she thought bars were so much better than taverns.


    Here they had stronger drinks, softer drinks, drinks that had some flavor. There were bards every single hour of every single day. And there were professional escorts. The best of them cost upwards of ten silvers, but what was ten silvers to her? She had ten thousand silver. Well, minus the amount she''d spent on drinks.


    For the thousandth time, she told her friends how the muscular escorts didn''t tickle her fancy. She was maybe considering a moderately priced, moderately handsome one. Just then, she caught a hint of long dark brown hair, interspersed with a few white strands, tied in what was considered a warrior''s ponytail in some barbarian cultures outside the cities.


    ¡°See that? Now that''s what a real warrior''s body looks like. Not so big, not so small. Limber, and the way he walks. Yummy! I mean, I spend all day looking at ragged, manly adventurers. These muscles built through calculated artifice dare not sway me. Oh, and he''s coming this way.¡±


    The man reached them, blue eyes shifting to take in everyone at the table. There was something about that intensity that set her body to tingling. She licked her lips, and when his attention did not return to her, she tried to bite them and mourn suggestively. He only looked back for a moment before looking away again. She pouted.


    ¡°She¡¯s not here too,¡± he said with a sigh. Then he shrugged, ¡°I''m looking for a Diane.¡±


    Helen snorted. ¡°You came here for her?¡± she pointed to her current rival, who was directly across the man. ¡°I''ll give you twenty silvers to go with me instead.¡±


    The man just nodded, and faster than a blink he had unsheathed a half-length sword and cut off the red-haired Diane''s right hand. It took a few moments for Helen to process the red flowing down her cheeks. She screamed at the same time as the rest of her table.


    The man flicked his blade and Jess, who''d been right next to him, fell dead. Right across from Helen, Sinda snapped her mouth shut.


    ¡°They told me you were the one who brought the information about the quest,¡± he spoke to Diane, ignoring both Helen and Sinda. ¡°Where''d the job come from?¡±


    He was calm. Too calm even as the bar broke into pandemonium and the guards started to run toward them. They were slow. Too slow. She''d seen how fast he''d killed Jess, and he''d be done with her and Sinda before the guards started swinging their swords, let alone before they cleared twelve meters of distance, in a crowded bar where people were getting in their way in their selfish bids to escape from the crazy table and its occupants.


    They had at least a minute of uninterrupted time, and he only needed a few microseconds to kill them all.


    ¡°If you tell me, I''ll kill you fast. If you don''t, I''ll take all your hands and feet, but leave you alive. Alive, but with a bit of worm rot sprinkled into your wounds. You''ll die slowly and in pain within the week, but you''ll still die. It''s your choice. You bet, you lost. But you were dealing with lives. There is no option here except death.¡±


    Helen felt her stomach sink even as Diane stared at the man with defiance. She would not yield to threats, her friend''s eyes seemed to shout.


    The man just sighed.


    ¡°The torturous option it is.¡±


    And faster than thought he''d cut off her other hand, and the table was falling, perfectly cut into four pieces, and Helen was falling back on her stool. And there was a foot flying in the air. It landed next to her head.


    ¡°I hope your ten gold will let you live happily at least for this last week of your life as a cripple.¡±


    She saw him turn to her, and she heard Diane wail piteously. And where were the guards? As he turned to her in almost slow motion, she made a decision. She did not want to live as a cripple.


    ¡°I don''t know everything,¡± she screamed, and the man hesitated, tilting his head to show she had his attention. ¡°But there was something about the monster nest five years ago. Apparently the nobles were not happy with being implicated.¡±


    He looked like he was going to say something, maybe ask which nobles, but then seemed to think better of it. The guards broke through the throng of partygoers, and still, the man did not rush. He stared down at her thoughtfully, nodded, and then proceeded to decapitate Sinda without so much as looking in her direction. He hadn''t even moved toward her.


    His blade work was beautiful. That was the last thought she had before the darkness took her.

 Chapter 15. Murder in The City

    Cynthia cursed again as she tried to keep up with the man ahead of them. Jasmine and Rhea had followed them too. The guild master burst through the door to a high-class-looking inn, almost more than half the size of the hotels in the noble district, a famous hangout among high-level adventurers who wanted a taste of noble life.


    The man scanned the wide dining hall, his eyes immediately settling on the loudest corner of the room. Cynthia also heard the gold-ranked adventurer Hodo say something, undoubtedly something boisterous, and start laughing at the top of his lungs.


    He was the kind of person such establishments were built to avoid, but she well knew he''d recently stumbled upon a horde of gold.


    Without preamble, the guild master started to match to that corner of the room, and the three ladies made to follow him.


    ¡°Oh, Kayle?! What¡¯s our prestigious guild master doing at this dump?¡± a man from the opposite side of the room called to the guild master.


    Cynthia was sure the spear master was going to ignore him, as he''d ignored so many others that night. They were in a state of emergency after all, and the man was across the room from their targets.


    ¡°Ah, Jonathan, just the man I wanted to see.¡±


    The guild master about faced and went to the opposite side of the room. Cynthia and the girls, panting and sweating as they all were, stopped short, disbelieving. Their targets were a few feet away. Cynthia couldn''t believe the guild master wasn''t taking things seriously.


    ¡°Your boy is on a freaking rampage, Wilde,¡± the guild master said.


    The three women jolted, turning their attention to the table. It had three people drinking together. A red-head holding a spear, a boy no older than maybe sixteen with a sheathed bastard sword next to his chair, and the middle aged man the guild master was currently approaching. The middle aged man had been smiling, but his smile started to slide off his face as soon as he heard the guild master''s words.


    ¡°Is something wrong with Guy?¡± the man asked.


    ¡°Yes. There was an incident, a betrayal I''d say, orchestrated by¡­¡± the guild master stopped himself just before he said too much, in Cynthia''s opinion.


    They were in public, for crying out loud. When she reached him, however, he was frowning at the calmest person on the table, the boy with the bastard sword. The red-headed girl had tensed and her face had paled, accentuating the red of her freckles. She was looking at the guild master with wide round eyes.


    ¡°Oh? What is this?¡± the calm boy said expressionlessly, ¡°we were just discussing Guy, you know. He''s been gone too long, and Celene here felt his banishment for her sake was excessive.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­well,¡± the guild master coughed. ¡°Yeah, a bunch of nobles paid a few high-ranked adventurers to mess with the boy.¡±


    ¡°A bunch of nobles?¡± the boy said with a growing smirk.


    ¡°This isn''t the time, Noid,¡± the older man growled. ¡°Where is the boy now? Mess with him how? How serious is this?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean it''s not the time? If my family is involved, I deserve to know.¡±


    ¡°Involved in what? You don''t even know what¨C¡±


    And in that moment, the sound of glass breaking, of air being split by a rushing projectile, of flesh being sundered, of men crying in pain, ended the burgeoning argument.


    They turned as one, all six of them, to watch what they could have prevented had they acted prudently. Cynthia took a step back even as her eyes widened. He hadn''t been that strong, had he? He could not have been. He was just a silver-rank adventurer.


    And yet, even though as a spell caster, her mental faculties were stronger than those of average melee fighters, she could not follow his movements. He held two swords, she now saw. Like his friend had, her former charge.


    Three gold-rank adventurers had died in the seconds it took her to turn around. Hodo was on the ground screaming with one hand and one leg completely gone. And the boy''s blades clanged against a small axe as he engaged the only jade-ranked adventurer in the room.


    Samson had not carried his massive great axe, instead opting for a tiny spare that wouldn''t spook the customers here. Perhaps that had been his mistake? Or more accurately, he just didn''t have an answer for the windmilling style that was not a recognized sword technique anyone should use. But Cynthia knew it. Had seen the early seeds that had born this new style.


    With one sword aimed low and the other high, Guy Wilde kicked off the ground and rotated like a windmill, one sword parrying the axe and the other taking a nibble of his opponent. Samson had no answer to that initial barrage and was a mess of blood and shallow wounds by the time the technique was done.


    Jade rank adventurers were extremely high-level warriors and often could fight and survive against masters even if they couldn''t necessarily win. It seemed that was not a problem for Wilde.


    He''d always been fast, but the speed at which he sheathed his short swords and unsheathed a long sword from his back was shocking. Samson had been keeping himself at the edge of the short sword¡¯s reach, and in that moment the fast draw of the long sword had it cut a whole swathe through him, bisecting him diagonally from right shoulder to left hip.


    The jade-ranked adventurer jerked back with a cry, but the wound had already been dealt, and Guy Wilde just had to keep him busy for a few minutes for the man to bleed out. The guild master thought so as well, diving for the redhead''s spear and lunging toward the fight.


    ¡°Is anyone a healer?!¡± He screamed at the frozen room even as he continued his charge, forgetting he''d brought a healer of his own.


    Guy Wilde was already in his favorite stance, as far as Cynthia could tell, sword tip aimed to the ground and both hands on the hilt. His eyes turned to the darting guild master, and then further back to their little group. He smiled tightly, tensing his body visibly. He swung his sword, his whole body moving along with him. Steel met steel, and the sword was pushed back, and the axe man used his prodigious strength to swing to where he''d pushed Guy.


    Only Guy wasn''t there. Even the guild master had just arrived, his spear aimed at that spot. He looked around with bewildered eyes.


    Then the teenage-looking with the bastard sword started to laugh, laugh, and they all heard the whooshing of air being displaced as Guy Wilde fell from the sky like a meteor, causing a cloud of wooden shrapnel and dust and bloody mist to spread. This was enough to finally get the still-shocked patrons moving, shouting in alarm as they left.


    In less than twenty seconds, Guy Wilde had taken out no less than four gold-rank adventurers and one jade. He had never intended to bleed the man out. He had intended to end the fight as quickly as he could and move on. And he''d had the ability to.


    When the cloud settled, the guild master stood where he had when he''d arrived at the scene, staring down at mangled remains of what must have been Samson Darios, a very strong jade-ranked adventurer. Cynthia decided she was going nowhere near that pile of meat, otherwise she would be sick. She would be so sick.


    The guild master was red, so red. And he smelled, oh, did he smell. His eyes were closed as he returned to them. It was a scene of confusion, of blood, of vengeance. She hadn''t known Guy Wilde was strong enough to go around causing such widespread destruction. It was like those rare occasions when two masters fought with everything they had.


    ¡°The boy could fight a master?¡± the guild master said, staring at Jonathan.


    ¡°Indeed,¡± the other man said, frowning at the teenage boy who was still smiling like this was all some damn game.


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    ¡°What? I''m not yet a master, you know,¡± the boy said with a shrug.


    ¡°That''s only because you don''t want to break through. I''ll bet you anything that boy isn''t within sniffing distance of mastering all those techniques he''s so fragrantly throwing around. You can, and should stop him,¡± the guild master entreated.


    ¡°Why should I?¡± the boy asked.


    ¡°He''s killing people. Not innocent people, to be fair, but we can give them a trial. If he keeps going like this, he''s going to get himself killed, and the perps will walk.¡±


    The boy looked at the bloody impact crater, then he shrugged.


    ¡°I think he''ll be alright.¡±


    ¡°Noid, please,¡± the red-haired girl spoke for the first time. ¡°What if he intends to go after the nobles? They''ll kill him.¡±


    ¡°Do you think he''s stupid enough to go after my family at his level of power?¡±


    ¡°You saw his eyes,¡± this time it was Jonathan who spoke. ¡°He has the look of someone who isn''t thinking, doesn''t he? It''s good because it will help him develop his style faster, but he is letting his sword think for him. Do you not see?¡±


    The boy jolted, but instead of being shocked, he smiled brighter.


    ¡°You think so?¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± the man said with a growl.


    ¡°Well, we can''t have him dying at such a pivotal step, now can we,¡± the boy''s smile turned malicious.


    He rolled his neck, breathed in deep a few times and clapped his hands in anticipation. His smile never left his face. He turned around and went back to where he''d been sitting on the table, grabbed his sheathed sword. Then, turning his head slowly to study everyone around the table with him, he disappeared just as fast as Guy had.


    ****


    Name: Rafael Kingsley


    Race: human (lvl-)


    Class:N/A (lvl-)


    Health: 60/100


    Stamina:1/90


    Stats


    Strength: 12


    Agility: 25


    Coordination: 20


    Vitality: 10


    Endurance: 9


    Intelligence: 7


    Wisdom: 6


    Paranormal: ???


    Skills: ¡­..Acrobat(lvl 103)>>Puppeteer''s body (uncommon) (lvl.1)...


    ¡°That must be a relief for you,¡± Samantha said.


    Noid tried to ignore her, as he''d been doing for months now. Or was it seconds?


    ¡°Such wide-scale cracking of skill structures. It''s glorious. I wonder how excited the little system must be,¡± the first Skyholm said, laughing like a madman.


    ¡°We already knew the skills could be upgraded. I mean, hell, look at that skill.¡±


    ¡°We have just started to actively study the skills now Noid, so we couldn''t be sure before. Now we have another advantage,¡± Enith stated as she rubbed her hands together.


    They all three looked at her, at the glee in her expression. Noid couldn''t even believe it. The boy was his challenger. His.


    ¡°What''s the point of this stupid test anyway, Noid?¡± Samantha, the thief asked.


    ¡°Nothing you''d understand. It''s a warrior thing.¡±


    ¡°Oh, don''t act like it''s something so profound,¡± Enith chimed in. ¡°He''s just trying to see the boy''s potential. Physically, mentally, even conceptually. I''d say the fact the boy can fight people with almost three times his statistics is good for his physical condition. His mental and emotional state is not the best though, given how suicidal he''s becoming, but he''s already pretty developed conceptually. That''s why Noid is excited.¡±


    ¡°Hmm? We should all agree that the boy is pretty suited to assassination. You should consider it Noid, we can birth another shadow monarch together. Another enchantress though, that''s kinda impossible.¡±


    Noid just stared at the thief.


    ¡°Oh come on! What did Enith offer you? What does she want you to do?¡±


    Enith scoffed, the thief cursed.


    *****


    Guy breathed his lungs out. He couldn''t even feel his body anymore, and all the wounds he''d suffered were taking their toll.


    It had been such a long day. When the day began, he''d had two brothers. Now he''d killed over forty people, and that was just the beginning.


    The Final Rest, the jade-ranked party that had led their aggressors, was down to only two members.


    He read their files now as he waited. When he¡¯d entered the city earlier in the day, he''d first gone home to find Grunter. He''d been close when the explosion happened, so close.


    Something had broken in him then. He didn''t have any weapons at the time, nor did he have information. It was easy to get both, what with all the information brokers adventurers had to often make use of. Gold and jade-ranked adventurers were not common, they were curiosities to so many people.


    He had to pretend he was interested in every single one of the thirty-odd jade rankers and a hundred twenty gold rankers, to prevent any whistle-blowing.


    Then he''d had to find the damn receptionists. Cynthia had gone to report to the guild master, but maybe the man hadn''t taken the threat of Guy Wilde seriously. It had been a massacre. The first receptionist had been at her home, and awkward sounds were coming from her room. At first, Guy had considered leaving her to it and starting somewhere else, but then he''d heard her partner''s name. Geo Sanz was one of the gold rankers he was chasing.


    He was still debating what he should do when he heard another name from her mouth. Another of those bastards. His rage had smouldered and he couldn''t let those sluts finish. They died before they knew what was going on.


    Then he''d continued to hunt, some of them having decided to celebrate their new wealth. Maybe the guild master thought it would be difficult to hunt a bunch of people in a city this big in one night? Guy had done it. Killing the receptionists had only made him thirstier for blood.


    And now only these two were left, and then he''d head to the noble district. He watched them, the last two jade rankers he had to fight. He couldn''t catch his breath.


    He stepped out of the shadows, standing not five metres ahead of them. The woman looked more put together than the man. Her head snapped up as she tightened her grip on her staggering partner to stop him. Guy unsheathed his sword.


    ¡°Oy! I''m not in the mood to beat down on some highway robber tonight. Get lost, and I''ll let you keep your life,¡± she threatened.


    Guy laughed, he couldn''t help it. She had looked so scary when she''d ambushed him, but he supposed even strong people were people in the end.


    He could see the mage in her hands stiffen, forcing himself to sobber up in light of this new threat.


    ¡°Invisible, illusion man? Why would you think me a robber? I''ve already sent the rest of your team to their Final Rest.¡±


    Then he started to laugh maniacally. He could see his targets exchanging disbelieving looks, and this only increased his mirth.


    ¡°What did you just say?¡± the woman asked, but he could see that she knew.


    Ever the experienced assassin, she knew. This was not some random street thug. He was here on a mission. Almost as if his thoughts had caused it, the woman disappeared, along with her partner. He staggered back a step, tilting his head in question.


    He pointed his sword forward and then started to swing it around blindly, not willing to be ambushed. And then night turned to day, and he was standing in the midday sky.


    Guy blinked in confusion. The midday sky? How could he be a skywalker? And that was when he realised it was impossible to walk in the sky and therefore he began to fall back to the earth. He stopped swinging his sword as he flailed wildly. Knowing he was about to land with a splat.


    Instead, a knife penetrated his skin with a wet schlunk, sinking right into his heart. The illusion broke, and he found himself flailing on the ground, coughing up blood.


    ¡°As expected¡­of jade¡­rankers,¡± he said in between coughs.


    And then the light left his eyes.


    He came to moments later, the knife having been removed from his heart and his two targets walking away without looking back.


    ¡°Who the hell was he?¡± he had the man wheeze.


    ¡°Don''t know, don''t care. We''ve gotta go check on the¨C¡±


    Her partner jerked from her with a surprised cry, and then he was hacking blood due to a sword impaled in his gut. The assassin turned with her knives already drawn.


    Guy''s short sword clanged against her defensively positioned knife, pushing her back such that she couldn''t counter with her second knife. Her eyes widened as she took him in.


    ¡°I thought I recognized you. Didn''t we kill you earlier too?¡±


    Guy just smiled. Then he lunged.


    The woman stepped back once, twice, and then she turned invisible. Guy pressed her still. He danced with nothing but air, and he loved every second of it. Only the clashing of steel on steel showed he wasn''t a crazy bastard dancing with the wind.


    The illusion mage was crawling, bawling and crawling, trying to get away.


    ¡°Just help me get away from him, you bastard!¡± the woman shrieked at him, but that was her mistake.


    Fast as thought, his sword had already slashed toward where he heard her voice, and with a cry, he found her again, and again. Now there were drops of blood with which he could track her. Guy grinned, unsheathing a dagger and throwing it straight into the mage''s right eye. The man died with one final squeal.


    ¡°Y-you¡­you bastard!¡± he heard the assassin scream.


    And the blood stopped moving. Guy went at her, faster, more clinical. It was time to end this.


    ¡°The Final Rest, huh? I liked your name. It reminded me of a saying from home. Memento Mori, remember that you will die, and have one final rest.¡±


    He frowned. Where had those words come from just then? Sure, he''d said them, but...


    With a decisive swing, he cut through what must have been her arm. She cried out but Guy didn''t give her any more moments of life. He swung through her neck and ended her there. He sighed and took a step back, studying his two victims carefully.


    It was time for the next step.


    ¡°Are you going after my family?¡±


    Noid, that asshole. That never growing asshole. Why the hell had the guy not aged a day since Guy had first met him? Something odd was going on, and Guy intended to find out what.

 Chapter 16. Everything Was Real

    Guy pushed his exhausted legs, feeling the energy drain from his body. He didn''t care, he was fast, and he was going to kill Noid Ellan. Their swords clashed again, and again Noid was pushed back amid a rain of sparks. Only, the boy was just grinning.


    ¡°Are you almost done?¡± he asked again, cool as a frozen lake.


    Guy growled. And even though he was feeling exhausted, launched himself forward. He felt the change come over him, his limbs easier to control, his bones as malleable as rubber, his exhaustion so unimportant, he ignored it without effort. Noid hummed in, perhaps appreciation, though Guy couldn''t be sure.


    They clashed again, and just when Noid was about to collide with a building, he launched himself upwards. He was just toying with him. Of course, Guy knew he was just toying with him, but he''d hoped he''d at least almost caught up.


    ¡°We need to talk, boy,¡± Noid stated, and he was floating in the sky.


    Guy startled. The other swordsman was flying, or at least doing something very close to flying. His mouth fell open and he couldn''t control his body as it backpedaled, trying to separate itself from this oddity. He chuckled, the sound shaky and unconvincing.


    ¡°Boy? Who are you calling a boy? You haven''t aged a day in about ten years.¡±


    ¡°Ten years?¡± Noid chuckled. ¡°Oh, it''s been much longer than that.¡±


    ¡°The fuck are you on about?¡±


    Noid though, stared into the sky, somewhat distracted. Guy took the chance to launch himself up, meeting Noid with the strongest swing of his sword, putting his chest and all his body weight behind it. Something, some kind of energy once again drained from his body.


    Noid thought to parry the attack out of hand, but the hit sent him careening through the air and into the roof of an expensive-looking establishment. He came back almost immediately, looking at Guy with a hint of shock and¡­pride? And what was he wearing, on top of the dust and everything? Was that jewelry?


    ¡°Ha! That''s my apprentice!¡±


    ¡°Apprentice? You haven''t taught me shit, Noid.¡±


    ¡°But I have, boy. And I''m going to teach you more. Yes, Enith was right. You are the one.¡±


    Guy just frowned at him. Noid had introduced him to Jonathan, after a few months of traveling and training together, but then he''d completely abandoned him. Guy was even loathe to call Jonathan his master. How could he ever accept Noid?


    Laughing, staring at him like he would a stubborn child, Noid lifted his right hand as would a mage. Guy stiffened where he stood twelve feet below the floating boy. Only there was no spell. A bluish rectangle of words and figures appeared in front of Noid, and he started manipulating it without giving him, at least according to Guy, adequate attention. He was just about to launch himself forward when the rectangle appeared in front of him.


    Guy flinched from the attack. Leaning back, and when nothing happened, flipped himself once, twice until he''d made some distance. He looked up, and the rectangle was still there just ahead of him. He cried out in fear, and as he was already crouching, curled up on himself. The attack never came.


    ¡°I haven''t attacked you no matter how much of a tantrum you threw, boy. Why would I attack you now?¡±


    Guy said nothing, not moving an inch from his turtle form.


    ¡°It''s time to explain this world, Guy. The reason why your memories are missing, why you seem immortal, why I am your mentor, despite what you think of me. Just stare at the screen.¡±


    Guy wasn''t sure what a screen was, but the word scratched at something in the back of his mind. He opened an eye in question, trying to see what this spell Noid had thrown his way was.


    It was glitchy, a cloud of static making everything on it all but illegible. Still, the first line hit him like a sledgehammer, or his head in particular. He felt his head almost collapse into a thousand pieces from the impossible pain.


    He looked up at Noid, trying to confirm what he''d just seen.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Noid said, nodding his head, looking nothing more than a spectator at the moment. ¡°It is time you stopped suppressing the memories of your old life, your true life.


    Name: Rafael Kingsley¡­.


    ****


    The inn was in tatters, but they didn''t know where else to go. The guild master had taken a shower in the meantime, and he''d covered the remains of the dead adventurers with what had to be curtains from the guest rooms. The innkeeper''s son, who''d been running the inn that night had collapsed, and he''d needed to go to the mental health professionals after Rhea failed to find what was wrong with him.


    The inn¡¯s owner herself was now sitting behind the counter, knowing no guests would come tonight, caring little for it. She wanted something familiar. Cynthia couldn''t blame her, all things considered.


    It was hours after Noid had left that the fight in the noble district started. They could hear it, the sound of steel on steel. The whole city could probably hear it. It had even gone up into the sky at some point, and a smattering of sparks floated beautifully downwards. And then the boom of an impact with a building, and yet another cloud of dust obscured the beautiful display of dancing flames.


    That was the last sound of steel they heard, and it wasn''t thirty minutes later when Noid returned. Guy was with him, unconscious and writhing in apparent agony.


    ¡°Guy!¡± Celene jumped up from her place beside Jasmine on the table.


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    ¡°What did you do to him?!¡± Jonathan growled menacingly.


    Noid seemed taken aback by their¡­enthusiasm.


    ¡°Do you care about him that much? I had assumed as much, from the earlier pleas, but¡­¡±


    He looked at Jasmine and Rhea. The girls stared at each other and snorted.


    ¡°Don''t look at us. We just happened to take our adventurer certification test with him. There is no strong bond here.¡±


    ¡°That makes a lot more sense,¡± Noid said with a nod. ¡°In any case, now that you spoke of adventurer certification¡­¡±


    He threw a silver badge on the table, Guy''s badge. The other boy hadn''t stirred from whatever demons he was seeing in his dreams.


    ¡°We don''t need that anymore.¡±


    ¡°But he needs that to return to the company,¡± Celene protested.


    ¡°Listen, Celene, Guy has committed several crimes tonight. Crimes that are going to haunt him when he wakes. Crimes that will affect how he''s seen and treated by the adventurer''s guild going forward.¡±


    ¡°The people he killed were traitors to the guild,¡± Cynthia found herself saying.


    ¡°Yet?¡± Noid looked to the guild master.


    The man reached forward and grabbed the badge, twisting it this way and that in contemplation.


    ¡°There are no rules against what he did, but it cannot be condoned in any case. It sets a bad precedent. Not to mention friends of the people he killed today may want revenge. Salvaging his adventurer career will be a hard and time-consuming journey.¡±


    ¡°The one thing we don''t have,¡± Noid agreed.


    ¡°Explain,¡± growled Jonathan.


    ¡°Due to your words earlier, I''ve decided to send Guy on a journey.¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± Jonathan snarled.


    ¡°W-why?¡± Celene asked shakily.


    ¡°Because he is close. I want him to find his truth, and this trial has gone too long and produced too much stimulus. This world has grown too much¡­¡±


    ¡°What?! What the hell are you talking about?¡±


    Cynthia was glad she wasn''t the only one to voice the most pertinent question.


    The boy with a body slung over his shoulder just frowned at them all.


    ¡°Why are the trial helpers gaining sentience? This is not a real world.¡±


    ****


    For the hundredth time, Rafe watched a woman with lilac hair kick half his head off. She might look humanoid, but living in another world had told him she was possibly another race altogether. He''d never gotten around to asking Jasmine about the specifics of her race. They weren''t friends after all.


    He saw the scene, saw how it shook him. He was only a breath away from death, even as he struggled within a spatial distortion again. In the past, he''d only felt the pain, the incredible pain, like hundreds of tiny bolts of lightning each striking its part of his body. Now he could feel the otherness of the energy, the spiritual nature of it. Magic.


    And then he''d seen the six Skyholms. It was the longest dream he''d ever had. He''d had a life in another world. A life that seemed all too real now. He couldn''t get himself to wake up though, so when he killed more than forty people in a single day, the dream restarted with that night.


    That night. Every time he noticed something different. The screen. Marked for tutorial? The women had been speaking, but in a language he''d never heard. The speed the lilac-haired woman had run at. The feeling of the spatial energies. What the hell was a tutorial? What was a dungeon?


    ****


    The pounding in his head almost made him regret waking up. That wasn''t the only pounding though. He could hear it, and then he couldn''t. Shit! He tried to open his eyes through the pain.


    ¡°You''re awake?¡±


    Noid, the damn bastard. Why he was a bastard, Rafe couldn''t quite remember. Was he Rafe to begin with? He was a teenager. He''d spent as much time in another world as he had in his old world. So who was he Was he Guy Wilde, or Rafael Kingsley?


    It wasn''t quite the memories. It was the swirling, shifting world that didn''t quite look real. The faces, the other conversations he was having at that very moment. Two women, who Rafe now knew weren''t exactly human, one moving to blur forward. Their faces twisted, churned, turned ugly and grotesque.


    Then he saw his mother. What was she doing? Why was Thea there, sitting behind Noid?


    ¡°Quite the curious face you''re making. I take it you got your memories back?¡±


    Rafe couldn''t say anything, even if he wanted to. His thoughts, even were he able to think clearly, were a jumble. His head hurt too much anyway to allow him to organise himself. Still, one thing he was starting to believe for sure.


    ¡°It was real,¡± he said, sighing with relief or despair, unsure which feeling was his.


    ¡°Sure it was,¡± a smiling Noid replied.


    Smiling? That just seemed wrong, out of character even. There was something wrong with his brain. Was he going crazy?


    But then, if it was all real, Rafe had killed forty people in one night. Sure they''d attacked him and his friends first, but still. He was a teenager. He''d never so much as killed a rat. Only, he''d killed people, and lots of animals too. And there was blood. Blood flowing over the images behind Noid. The images of Jonathan and Celene walking together, of Cynthia and Kayle and Rhea and Jasmine. Of his cousin Thea and his mom and his aunt and his sister. Of those murderous beauties.


    ¡°Gah!¡± Rafe cried, a hand going to his head.


    His body stiffened, trembling uncontrollably. A cry started to gather upon his lips. Noid was trying to say something, but Rafe couldn''t hear him.


    ¡°Gah! I-I killed them! I killed people!¡±


    Something hit him then, sharp and biting, right on his cheek. The sharp pain, so distinct from his perpetual headache, had him stunned for a moment. Then he came back to himself with a breath.


    ¡°Calm down kid. I think you aren''t ready for this. You''re going to trigger your mental defense skill, then get back to sleep.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Mental defense¡­skill?¡±


    ¡°Argh! We don''t have time for this! Just think indomitable mind. No, look at your status screen and concentrate on indomitable mind.¡±


    ¡°What?! My status screen?¡±


    Noid groaned once more, grabbed his head, and turned him to a familiar blue screen.


    ¡°Think, indomitable mind!¡± Noid screamed in his face.


    ¡°Argh!¡± Rafe managed to get out through the headlock.


    Then the status screen changed, and he couldn''t see his name. But there it was, under skills. Indomitable mind. And there were others too. But he had been told to focus on it or his head just might get torn off by an angry Noid.


    It was instantaneous. Something at the back of his head, near where his spinal cord met his brain, whirled. It was almost fluid. But it was also ethereal. It didn''t exist in the physical plain. It was like magic. And his headache was gone, and his confusion too. And he was left with only one thought. Purpose. He needed purpose. And his purpose right now was to sleep. Sleep and let his mind rest, and recover. Sleep and gather his thoughts.


    ¡­. Indomitable mind (uncommon) (lvl. 476) Adamant, unbreakable, unbound. Your willpower is more honed than a blade. Your soul and mind resist the adverse effects of extreme time dilation when the skill is active. Increases the effectiveness of willpower. Skill function increases with increase in skill level.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Your skill, indomitable mind, has reached level 477.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Your skill, indomitable mind, has reached level 478.


    ¡­


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Your skill, indomitable mind, has reached level 500.


    Congratulations. Your skill, indomitable mind, has been upgraded.


    Indomitable mind (common) >> Adamance of the blade (????) (lvl. 1)...

 Chapter 17. A Few Truths

    It had all been real. This time when Rafe slept, he dreamt about it all. Not just his last few hours on earth, but his whole life, his family, his friends, and his old basketball team.


    In his dreams, Rafael Kingsley thought about his two lives.


    ****


    When he woke a second time, there was no banging in his head. The banging outside was still there though, and it was hot, and he opened his eyes to a yet groggy scene of a thin boy with wiry muscles lifting a blacksmith''s hammer. He brought it down on red hot metal, and sparks flew. It was a relief to see a solid, natural-looking world.


    Noid didn''t show any hints he''d noticed his waking, only continuing to work away at his anvil. Rafe hadn''t known him for a blacksmith, but then again, had he ever really known the walking enigma?


    ¡°You probably have a lot of questions,¡± Noid commented, stopping his work not at all.


    That was an understatement. Rafe had so many questions they''d both grow grey before he''d even made a dent in them. But he had to start somewhere.


    ¡°What is this place? This world I''ve lived in for the last ten years of my life?¡±


    Noid grunted but otherwise did not comment, playing so well into the gruff blacksmith''s demeanor. He continued to hammer his piece of metal for a few moments, and just when Rafe was going to complain, he stopped his banging. He lifted the still red hot metal using a pair of gigantic tongs, and put it into a tub, cooling it off with an audible hiss. The product was something in the shape of a bastard sword.


    It was great, large, black. It didn''t look pretty, with the sharp edges uneven. What''s more, it wasn''t whole for more than a few heartbeats. He hit one of its edges with a tiny hammer, and like a piece of glass, the metal fell apart.


    With a sigh Noid collected his metals, putting them all into a crucible and placing them into a roaring forge.


    ¡°I can answer all your questions, I assure you. Though the answers might disappoint. I''d rather I give you my question first before we begin. I need to make a decision and to do that, you''ll need to decide first.¡±


    Rafe was immediately on guard. He didn''t know why, but this felt like some kind of test. As he lay there, under the most intense scrutiny Noid had ever subjected him to, he knew something was going to change today. And hadn''t it already? He''d gotten his memories back, and perhaps this was the reason Noid had given them back to him. Swallowing, he nodded his head in acquiescence, wondering how his life would change after this day.


    ¡°You have your memories back. Do you still wish to pursue the path of the sword?¡±


    Rafe breathed out in a slow, audible puff. He''d expected it, somehow he''d known he''d be expected to make a choice. He was scared. He''d killed people on this path. He''d chosen it to begin with, he remembered, right before his memory had abandoned him. And how had his memory abandoned him anyway? He would have preferred Noid answer his questions before he committed to following his instructions.


    ¡°You don''t have to tell me now,¡± Noid said, turning away from him. ¡°But bear in mind that I won''t answer any of your no-doubt-burning questions until you make a decision.¡±


    Even decisiveness was a factor being tested, Rafe realised abruptly. What would a warrior do in the case of an ambush? Would he give his opponents time to prepare even more? Would he turn his back and run? Rafe hesitated, trying to squirm his way out of the bed. He knocked something over, something cold and hard, and it fell with a clang to the floor next to his pallet.


    He looked down at his swords, two of which were short and curved, almost just big knives. Twin swords shaped like fangs. He''d bought them because he thought they would fit his style, Orlandir''s style, better than ordinary short swords. He looked at the forge, remembering the sword he''d been designing in his head for years now.


    The sword he now knew had taken inspiration from the katana from his old world. He''d only seen one as a decoration in his father''s house, and it had been fragile and beautiful and not a tool for war at all.


    It was a decoration, but the one in his head wouldn''t be. It would fit his slender build well, and it would incorporate all the techniques he''d learned so far. Even Orlandir''s windmill style, although with Rafe''s speed, he could turn it into a twister style or something of the sort.


    It was only a fraction of a second Rafe spent in his thoughts, and before Noid had finished turning, Rafe had made his decision. He might not trust Noid, might not respect him as a mentor, but he could admit he''d seen multiple scenes of gods doing battle, and that simple swordsman had captured his attention.


    ¡°Wait!¡±


    Noid turned to him with a raised brow, his sleeveless arms showing off long arms with wiry muscles.


    ¡°Teach me. I think I still want to follow this path to its end.¡±


    ¡°Really? Even after you killed those people?¡±


    ¡°It wasn''t the sword''s fault that I killed them. After all, in your vision, you didn''t kill that man you fought with, nor did it look like you had any intention to.¡±


    ¡°You cannot always afford to spare your enemies. Especially when you''re so weak.¡±


    Rafe hesitated, but¡­


    ¡°Even so,¡± he spoke with determination.


    ¡°Mhmm,¡± Noid said, studying him intently. ¡°Are you sure? If you choose to remain on the path, I will treat you as my apprentice, and I will only give you answers as they become pertinent. Some of your questions may never be answered.¡±


    Rafe cursed internally. Was his learning swordplay more important than finding out about this system as soon as possible, finding out about how he could get home if he could get home? Finding his family? But then again, his family, home? What the hell was that place? He''d felt more welcomed by Jonathan Wilde and his family than his father. If anything, finding out about his current world was more important than finding out about eEarth And that thought disgusted him so much, that he couldn''t even think about it anymore.


    They were his family, for crying out loud, his flesh and blood.


    And the others, the ones who''d taken him in and shared moments of peace with him right after a brutal war. He couldn''t decide. So maybe he was being a coward, but he let his sword decide for him, and it wanted to sing. Noid¡¯s eyes widened, like he could see his thoughts written plain on his face.


    ¡°Your reason for choosing this shouldn''t embarrass you, Rafael. If anything, it is very similar to my reason. I turned to the sword after my own family abandoned me. The sword is my family. But that is my truth, not yours, and the purpose of our coming here, of me returning your memories, of this whole challenge, was to help you find your truth.


    ¡°Now then, young master Kingsley, tell me, why do you fight? No don''t answer that, your sword will.¡±


    ****


    His system, his status, all the skills he had been looking forward to studying, everything was once again blocked off by Noid.


    ¡°The system is an important tool in the modern world,¡± Noid had informed him, ¡°but it isn''t important to you right here and now. Right now your skills would be nothing more than a distraction. You cannot pick a class yet, in any case.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± Rafe had demanded, especially after learning he could not level up, and therefore was only getting stronger at a tenth the speed he would have otherwise.


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    ¡°You¡¯ve done well enough without one so far. You need to hone what you already have, not get new responsibilities. Besides, your vessel is not ready. We are trying to provide the essence circulation the system does for Essence Deserts during tutorials, and until we''ve finished that, getting a class would be a waste of time. If we fail, which is unlikely, you¡¯ll have to wait for your tutorial.¡±


    That did tell him a few things, namely that whatever the tutorial was, it was yet to happen. Still, he''d been marked ten years in advance? That seemed irresponsible. Lots of people could die in ten years, and then what would be the use of the marking? Or maybe, just maybe, he hadn''t been in this place for more than ten years. It was a stupid hope, but Rafe wanted to hope anyway.


    ¡°We are not here to learn about the system just now,¡± Noid said. ¡°Ours is to start the journey of creating your concept.¡±


    ¡°My concept?¡±


    ¡°Yes. When you fought at that inn, Jonathan said something to me, something that got me excited. He said you let your sword think for you. Your sword wanted blood, and so it got blood.¡±


    ¡°Let my sword think for me? The sword, or swords I''d just bought because I desperately wanted revenge?¡± Rafe asked dubiously even as he used a stick to stir and remove ash from his furnace.


    ¡°Yes, and no. You have a sword in your soul. It is not the best path, to use a single tool to build your future around, but it worked for me. It won''t make you super powerful, but it will be easy to develop. And it will make you my disciple.¡±


    Rafe didn''t know what the hell Noid was talking about, and he let his silence answer for him. The furnace had been going for most of two days, and Rafe intended to keep it burning a few hours longer. If he could make an alloy with the strange magical metal Noid had given him, maybe he could make his katana a little more durable.


    ¡°Yes, first you''ll want to know what a concept is, I presume. It is just that, a concept, an idea which you believe with your very soul. Your concept is your truth or the first fraction of it.¡±


    ¡°You talked about truth before. Said it was why we were here?¡±


    ¡°Ah yes, the truth. Your very own piece of reality. Some people took to calling it the Dao for some reason, and some believe it is something we steal from the heavens. It is your very own way of inflicting your will on the universe, on reality.


    ¡°An attack made with a poison concept cannot be cured with a mundane healing spell, let alone health potions or pills. It can be directly combated by a purifying concept imbued spell. But in the right hands, even a sword concept should be able to fight off a poison concept.¡±


    That example had come out of left field, and Rafe said as much. Noid didn''t seem perturbed. He kept on telling him stories. Like how some people''s races dictated the direction of their truths. For example, winter wolves will find themselves gravitating towards ice-related insights, and lava behemoths will find themselves comfortable with lava.


    ¡°In some schools of thought, truths are predetermined. Your truth will settle into your soul like it was made for you, and you for it. Of course, this is an absolute lie¡­¡±


    He then went ahead to explain beliefs, about how the mind influenced the soul and so on.


    ¡°It therefore makes sense that a beast, with a very simple mind, born in lava, will see lava as the ultimate truth. Even their bloodlines are predicated toward lava. We more sapient species have a bit more wiggle room. A bit more freedom in our choices. And we tend to make better choices too. For example¡­¡±


    A scene Rafe had seen before, the legacy of the sixth Skyholm returned.


    He was in the expanse of space, and a man and bird exchanged deadly blows. As the man moved, a whole planet disappeared like it had never been, the side of the galaxy nearest him went dark, and with a punch to the bird more still disappeared. The woman healed in a burst of white flames, flames that spoke to Noid, spoke the secrets of the universe. And with a flex of her flaming robe, light returned to the galaxy.


    It was only an instant, only two movements, but then Rafe was back under the open sky, sitting beside his furnace and watching Noid.


    ¡°I am not the best teacher, the best at explaining things. Still, I believe a visual aid was necessary. Did you see the pinnacle of destruction face off against the pinnacle of immortal fate?¡±


    ¡°So those were their truths then?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but don''t go getting ideas. That is a few millennia out for you, at the very least. I just wanted you to see how far you could take what you learnt here.¡±


    ¡°That punch the demon god threw,¡± Rafe said. ¡°It spoke a thousand words, a thousand tiny ideas. A black hole, chaos, the void, darkness eternal, the end of all life¡­¡±


    Noid just nodded like this was all obvious, although Rafe didn''t know what even he was talking about.


    ¡°The demon god did not build his truth himself. In a way, it was predetermined, but it would still have been impossible to merge all those ideas without the help of his mantle of desolation. You can also see from this battle, the disadvantage of having such a vague idea as destruction for a truth. It can be interpreted in so many ways, and the demon god incorporated them all. That would have been downright impossible without the mantle.


    ¡°Even my little sister is little better. Immortal fate? Fate practitioners are the worst, in my humble opinion. So full of themselves. Strong too, but you get what I''m saying. A sword, made of metal, sharpened and maintained regularly, sharp, heavy, simple. It might not offer the outright destructive power those examples have, but it''s simpler to follow, easier to know. So, what do you think? Still interested in a simple truth, or do you want to sell your soul for power?¡±


    He said the last part with a scoff.


    Rafe grinned. ¡°So, how do I start? How do I make my concept?¡±


    ¡°I love the enthusiasm kid. But listen, a concept isn''t the first step to a truth. It is the first fraction, but that is only because below the concept you get barely tangible power from your insights. Insights are the first step of truths, seeds that will build your concept. You should have as many insights as possible, cultivate them to their peak before you combine them into concepts.¡±


    ¡°Wait! You can have more than one concept?¡±


    ¡°Some people can. You''re not one of them. As it is, I want you to experience hundreds of concepts and insights, but I want you to hold off on making your own for now.¡±


    Rafe frowned. His master was actively barring him from power at this point. It didn''t make sense.


    ¡°But why?¡±


    ¡°Multiple reasons. First, you are in the void. We don''t know how that will affect your nascent insights and we don''t want to find out. Second, we cannot be sure what effects temporal magic has on nascent insights because people as low-rank as you normally just can''t be in a time-dilation chamber for more than a few months at most.


    ¡°Third, your vessel is still weak. Your body is not used to the essence. Even if you got your class and started leveling up now, you''d hit a bottleneck simply because you are not ready. The essence of newly integrated worlds is different. It allows you to slowly acclimate to it as it increases in quality over time. We are trying to reproduce that effect so you''ll be able to grow your vessel once you''re out of here.¡±


    Rafe was quiet for a long time, trying to parse what Rafe was saying.


    ¡°And my vessel is¡­¡±


    ¡°Your body.¡±


    Rafe wanted to ask, dearly wanted to ask, but he''d learned what Noid meant about being his apprentice. He''d only get answers if and when Noid deemed it necessary. Still, he had to ask. Had to know.


    ¡°The void? Come to think of it, my skill description did mention something about time dilation¡­¡±


    Noid scoffed. ¡°I''ll let Enith tell you about that one. If I''ve got half a brain as I used to when I lived, I''d bet that''s the main reason she''s gotten this interested.¡±


    ¡°The enchantress? Do I still get to meet the other gods of Skyholm even though I chose your trial?¡±


    ¡°Focus on forging your blade, child. I want you out of here anon. All these swordsmen I put in my head. All the energy it takes to maintain them.¡±


    And that was another thing Noid had told him about. This world wasn''t real. It was a mental construct, mostly from memories but also imagination. Most of the people here, like Jonathan and his family, were based on people Noid had known. Even the Ellan family and his history with them. The war Rafe had taken part in though, was just a part of the test Noid had invented. Most challengers hardly ever got past that step.


    The other races like Jasmine¡¯s and Rhea¡¯s were ones Noid had only come across after leaving his planet behind to travel the cosmos.


    There were other races still, in this mind construct, that Rafe had yet to run into. Orlandir was based on a real person Noid knew once, and apparently, his end in reality had been far less brutal than in the trial. There was only one conclusion Rafe could draw from all this: his fault. It was his fault Orlandir had died.


    And if this world wasn''t real, then what did it make all his memories of them? Were they nothing? Were they just delusions?


    Rafe groaned. Thinking so much was a pain. Things would work themselves out, in the end, or they wouldn''t. Nothing to do except finish his damn blade.


    He broke the furnace with a pick axe, the still burning coal forcing him to take a few steps back. He held onto the blobs of red-hot solids with a pair of tongs and dunked them in a pre-prepared bucket of water. With a hiss, the metal cooled to reveal a blob of black slog. He hit it with a normal-sized hammer, and like an egg, the shell broke apart to reveal iron-grey metal with white veins slithering through it.


    ¡°Yes!¡± Rafe shouted.


    That was step one done, just a few hundred more, and he''d have a new blade.


    As he banged down his mostly rightly shaped piece of alloy the following day, Rafe remembered what Noid had told him. It wasn''t Noid''s fault he''d lost his memories. It was his own. It was his subconscious way of protecting his half-destroyed brain. Noid had taken it in stride because it meant for a trial taker who knew nothing. Like a babe being taught everything from scratch.


    And then his subconscious had developed that damned skill, somehow. The skill that had been active for ten years and counting, protecting him from his memories as it protected him from the dissonance of the trial itself. No wonder he''d lived in such a state of perpetual pain for ten years. The adamance of the blade¡­


    When he''d finished cooling off the metal, he got the small hammer to test it out, but before he''d even started, the blade curled into itself like a drying leaf, losing the vibrance of the white veins through it.


    ¡°I told you to start with basics,¡± Noid said from outside the house.


    Right, always start with the basics. No point in skipping steps.

 Chapter 18. A Warriors Retreat(1)

    ¡°How long did you last this time?¡± Noid asked Rafe.


    ¡°No more than five seconds,¡± he said, still pumping the bellows to stock the fires of the forge.


    ¡°You''ll have to keep trying it out during your journey. You cannot depend on that skill, especially after you leave the trial. You do not have the resources to have a skill stay active indefinitely.¡±


    ¡°I know, I know,¡± Rafe said, watching the metal that would turn into his sword heat up more and more.


    He''d spent weeks practicing, listening to Noid''s lectures in preparation for a journey, a journey to hone his skills, hone himself. He''d thought officially becoming Noid''s apprentice meant direct lessons, but no, Noid knew his limits, and he was not teacher material.


    The suggestion that he turn off his mental shield skill every once in a while was a good one, Rafe thought sometimes, but mostly it was painful. He didn''t know what all the skill protected him from, but he was too dependent on it. It would be impossible to support the skill with his meager resources outside the trial, because, according to Noid, his stamina was laughable and he didn''t have mana.


    Outside the trial, he''d have to start dipping into his life force to support the skill, and unlike health points, life force was a more permanent loss.


    It was strange, Rafe thought, the way he was taking to his new reality. Mostly he just didn''t think about it. Skills, concepts, systems, magic. It was all very confusing, all very real. And he had people he cared about here. He still didn''t know what to think of all of them, of Jonathan, of Celene, Orlandir.


    ¡°Maybe I should write them a letter at least,¡± he mumbled to himself.


    ¡°Mhmm?¡± Noid said.


    ¡°Nothing. I was talking to myself.¡±


    He wrenched his mind from that road, instead focusing on the red-hot metal of his future as he transferred it to the anvil.


    Bang, bang, bang, he hit, stopping every three hits to check he''d made no blunders. There was a rhythm to it. It was distracting. It was also necessary. He had decided he''d leave the kingdom of Grayward, the whole continent, for a few years, to get his feelings straight. It was another reason he''d agreed to practice turning off his mental protection. He also needed to learn to control his other skills even though he couldn''t access the system.


    He''d need them when he started collecting insights on his journey.


    ¡°Insights are seeds, the building blocks for your concept,¡± Noid had lectured. ¡°Insight into sharpness comes to mind, for a sword concept. An insight into, say heaviness, for a heavy hitter like me, although I wouldn''t recommend that one for you.¡±


    Noid helped him with his sword making too, telling him how important insight into metal, into building his tool, would be when he advanced his concept to the next level. Of course, to advance his concept, he''d have to find it first. He''d have to develop insights, cultivate them until they were perfect, and then turn them into a concept worthy of its name.


    His friend, Orlandir, had cultivated an insight of dominion. He had advanced far enough that he had already developed a concept ability, a concept domain. His sword could cut anything in a given area.


    That was the secret to mastery. Gaining a concept ability, like sword intent or sword aura which enabled masters to launch a projection of their swords. A domain was rather high level, and hearing Orlandir had stumbled into such an ability had solidified his impression of his friend. Orlandir had been a genius.


    Still, without guidance, Orlandir, and half the masters in the trial world had skipped a lot of steps in their development, limiting their concepts to one ability, and limiting their growth. Before the system, so many talented people wasted their potential on small backwater planets.


    ¡°I thought you hated the system?¡± Rafe couldn''t help but ask him the day Noid had praised it.


    ¡°I don''t hate the system,¡± Noid told him, rolling his eyes. ¡°I didn''t have the system in my day, so I didn''t train with it. I merely don''t want you to rely on it too much. In the end, the system is a tool, and you''ll have to use it to finish this path. It will make your ascension easier, especially after you''ve had to make do without its spoon-feeding in the beginning.¡±


    Rafe had shrugged, taking the explanation in stride. It was a rare occasion when Noid was that loquacious, and he still had many questions.


    Bang, bang, bang, the sound of metal continued for hours. With a hiss, he quenched the metal, testing it with a small hammer. It was solid, with no hollow throughout its length. He tested the edge. It was regular, at the very least. But the process was just starting.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    He had to smooth it, beautify it, then wett it. He worked through the night. In the morning, he tested its edge again. His forefinger came away wet, red.


    He''d already designed his hilt, although he''d used a different, heavier metal for the pommel. The shark skin he''d used to wrap the grip was just rough enough that keeping hold of the blade would be easy, but wouldn''t get too uncomfortable. He had gone for a round guard, a very tiny radius. He glued it on and sat back, admiring his work.


    Then, although he''d never know how the dark claimed him.


    When he woke, Noid was standing over his cot, the rest of the room empty. The forge, the anvil, the table, Noid''s bed, everything had disappeared like it had never existed. Noid held a satchel out to him. There was no fanfare. He''d only received instruction for a few weeks, and only a fraction of the questions he''d had had been answered.


    ¡°Are you sure you want to stay this far from them?¡± Noid asked, not for the first time.


    ¡°Yes, I need to sort my head out.¡±


    ¡°Alright then,¡± Noid said with a nod.


    ¡°When will I see you again?¡±


    ¡°To answer all your other questions? When the trial ends. This avatar will leave this trial imminently.¡±


    ¡°And how will the trial end?¡±


    ¡°I''ve never had a trial taker reach this far before. It will all depend on how much energy I can pour into a final challenge. And what that final challenge will be even. We will see. We will see.¡±


    Rafe didn''t understand, but he walked anyway. With his sword sheathed at his hip, a satchel slung over his shoulder, and no idea where he was going, a swordsman went to discover his soul.


    ****


    Somehow, Rafe hadn''t thought crossing the ocean would be this hard. Well, he hadn''t expected he''d be doing it on a boat. He thought he had time on the dark elven island, but the shadow wielders had been¡­not welcoming, to put it mildly.


    ¡°Still, I managed to escape with my life and got in a little more practice modifying the earth-shattering technique into a movement skill. Now I just have to aim my sword in a particular direction and zip toward it,¡± he said to himself, smiling widely, trying to convince himself.


    ¡°Argh! Whatever! Positivity is overrated. Here''s to hoping the elves on Dormiel will be a little more welcoming.¡±


    The other elves were not any more welcoming. Worse, they lived in a great big forest with the largest trees, and their mages had nature affinities that allowed them to control the trees, and they had the best archers Rafe had seen in this world. Well, the dark elves were amazing archers too.


    He did have a duel with a master archer during his long retreat from the forest. He only had to use his modified movement technique to get in close on a few occasions, but she was also mean with a dagger. And was it just him, or were all elves at least partially hybrid mages too.?It was unfair. He didn''t have mana, but maybe he needed some kind of magic education so he could form a hybrid class too. He only died that one time he got in over his head and managed a cut on the master archer¡¯s forearm.


    The dwarves were simultaneously easier, and harder to deal with. He looked too puny, they said, and they wanted strong opponents. They mostly specialised in heavy weapons like war hammers and great axes and, rarely, great swords.


    Rafe did have a skill he''d once used to surprise Noid. A skill that, on contact, increased the strength of his blows. Still, after proving his strength, they nitpicked on the quality of his sword, and he was not happy about that, not one bit.


    He''d made that sword himself, and he had poured blood and sweat into it, and very expensive metal. Apparently, that was the problem. He had wasted the devrite, as the white veined alloy was termed. He was adamant he''d done the best he could, and the dwarves found his claim laughable, three duels in, his sword, his pride, broke into three pieces.


    ¡°Tis good this happened now,¡± a callused dwarf slapped him commiseratingly on the shoulder. ¡°You are in a place where you can fix it, and learn better. Tis good it happened now.¡±


    Rafe spent almost three years traveling through the underground cities of the dwarves, sampling their ale, fighting in a few bar brawls, challenging masters of strength insights and related concepts. It was in Darvon that he got the idea to form a physical fitness skill. Not for his strength, per se, but for his endurance and stamina, his speed. And to sculpt his body a bit, look the part. Maybe it''d help him with his virginity problem.


    He couldn''t help but scoff whenever he thought about that. Already pushing on thirty years, and nothing more than a few deep kisses.


    He had decided to try his hand at a hybrid fighting style, so before heading to the tumultuous land known as the demon continent, he had to search for a floating island known as Maeve, where the temple of light resided. The celibate monks there were masters of magic and melee hybrid combat styles. He wasn''t scared of going to the famed crucible that was the demon continent.


    ****


    The girls were unsatisfied with his explanations. Once upon a time, they would have been asking about their big brother Noid, but somehow Guy had taken root in their minds. And in their hearts.


    Jonathan didn''t know where Noid had taken the boy.


    No, not a boy, a man. A full-grown warrior who could now perhaps even hold his own against Jonathan himself.


    ¡°A letter for you Mr.Wilde,¡± one of his mercenaries told him.


    ¡°Is it important?¡± he asked without looking up.


    ¡°How the hell should she know?¡± A familiar voice asked.


    Jonathan''s head whipped up, a smile etching itself across his face.


    ¡°Ah, Julia. Thank all the gods you''re here. Your sister, well, she is not at her best. And the girls too.¡±


    The woman frowned. ¡°Why, what did you do? Do they require Bird''s help?¡±


    ¡°What? No! Unless healers have developed magic for healing stress in the past few years of your journey.¡±


    The woman winced. ¡°Not that I know of. So what happened?¡±


    Jonathan decided he''d as well read the letter now while he had the time.


    ¡°Well, one, you took my best healer and disappeared for ten years. And when you return, instead of checking on your nieces who probably don''t even recognize you, you come to make¡ª¡±


    He let out a loud whoosh of air as he scram


    bled from his desk.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Julia asked.


    ¡°It is from Guy! The letter is from Guy!¡±


    ¡°Who is¡­¡±


    He never got to hear the rest of her question because he was already running.

 Chapter 19. A Warriors Retreat(2)

    Thea''s face started to morph into a slimy melting green thing. She had been packing her things when he saw her this time, looking to his room to ensure he was still asleep.


    He imagined this was how they must have left. Like thieves in the night running from what he had assumed was their home. Now the scene was interspersed with about thirty others.


    In one, his mother and aunt sat and discussed his cousin. How she was doing at some sort of training camp?


    In another, his father and sister sat with a songwriter, planning her next single perhaps.


    In another vision he lay in the dungeon he had almost lost his life. He was dead in that version of reality, but the devils stood over him. He saw their grotesque faces shifting and swirling. They were arguing about killing him too fast. He would have scoffed if he was there with them. The one who was complaining probably wanted to torture him or some such stupid reason.


    He shuddered as the pain in his head reached unbearable proportions. With a heavy breath, he slammed his mental defense skill back up. No wonder most low-level people could not handle time dilation for long periods. For those few seconds his skill had been off, nothing made sense.


    ¡°At least my pain tolerance received some much-needed work,¡± he said amid a bout of panting.


    His pain tolerance did not need any kind of work. At this rate, he could grit his teeth through losing an arm. He was going to turn into a masochist if things did not change.


    His body was not in the best state after he''d been forced into a dangerous dungeon alone. It was supposedly a rite of passage for the damn light masters'' apprentices. He had to run the dungeon a hundred times until he got it to drop a high-rarity light aspect treasure.


    And the monsters he had to fight were incorporeal. Shadow wraiths and gleaming jade-colored ghosts. Light magic was a counter to them. The only way he could run the dungeon was by trying to sneak past the monsters.


    It wasn''t easy sneaking past beings that could float through walls. Luckily he had bought talismans and a bunch of water in a jar they called holy water.


    By his fourteenth run though, his gold and goods were getting depleted. So then he just had to get creative. By protecting his chest and head, he let the spirit monsters try to possess him. Then he''d just stab his arm or leg or wherever the ghost had stuck itself and kill it. It was the best plan as it made use of all his strengths.


    He was sure anyone he told of this mission would call him a genius for making use of the best tools at his disposal. They would not think he was a deviant or anything.


    He had stabbed his left hand thirty times by the time he reached the boss''s room, and it was flopping uselessly by his side.


    He saw the boss of this instance and all its minions, and he blanched. A looming thing of shadow and shimmering jade. It was a cross between both breeds of dungeon ghosts. It was like looking at a portrait to contrast. He couldn''t tell where any of its parts were. And then there were the nine shimmering presences surrounding it.


    This was the ultimate hard level of the dungeon, and in this instance, he had the least resources. At least he was sure he''d get a precious drop from this dive.


    ¡°Those light masters better have gold in their damn library. I didn''t like what I saw of their fighting style so far¡­¡±


    But the ghosts were already attacking. He was going to have to commit suicide on this occasion, he realised.


    ****


    When Rafe reached the Southern tip of the dark and desolate world that was the demon continent, he couldn''t help but look to where he thought the North was.


    He had been traveling for more than ten years by then. He had always planned to get back to Jonathan and the family but he honestly tried his best not to think about them. They were not real people. It was hard to wrap his mind around. When he left this trial, he''d never see them again.


    But they seemed so real. The girls¡­


    ¡°Shit, they must be getting into their late teens by now. Are they married? Do they even remember me?¡±


    The soil of the demon continent was black. The beach he landed on was covered in black coarse sand, and the sea looked dark red. The clouds were sparse and had layers to them. The violet of the sky showed clearly through, and storms from space itself ravaged the sky. There was not a layer protecting the land from the heat of the stars.


    ¡°Perfect¡­¡± Rafe said.


    With one last lingering look to the North, he took off in chase of more challenges. In times of doubt, just look for a good impossible fight and what else in the world could really matter?


    ****


    ¡°The wanderer approaches,¡± one of Gaoshom¡¯s attendants spoke.


    They had taken to calling the boy who''d appeared on their island almost two years past The Wanderer. Gaoshom had been anticipating the visit, if only because it was a rare occasion when one saw a practitioner of all four major sword schools at once, and one who was claimed to be pushing the bounds of the advanced tier in all of them at that. And he was young.


    It would be a good day for a spar, a good day to guide a promising swordsman. And maybe learn from him too.


    He didn''t stop his work, though, even when the boy came, and he felt the boy¡¯s interest, and he welcomed it. He continued to slash at the wood in his possession, waiting for the boy''s question.


    ¡°I have heard about Master Gaoshom''s famous carvings of wood, they are more impressive than I was led to believe.¡±


    ¡°Truly? You flatter me, young master. This is not but an old man''s little hobby. To pass the time.¡±


    Stolen novel; please report.


    ¡°I find that hard to believe,¡± the boy commented.


    ¡°Oh? Enlighten me.¡±


    ¡°You are more famed for your raw bru¡­strength,¡± the boy restrained himself at the last minute. ¡°If I had to guess, you''re making a bid for grand mastery by trying to incorporate control into your technique.¡±


    He was about to say brutality, Gaoshom knew, but the boy had corrected himself at the last moment and that was all that mattered.


    ¡°And what do you think of my attempt?¡±


    The boy sat down behind him, his attentiveness not feigned. It was refreshing to see.


    ¡°It''s an interesting way to seek enlightenment, and even if the design of my sword may make it harder to pursue such artistic expression, I would like to try it.¡±


    Gaoshom didn''t answer for a time, instead focusing on the final stretch. Like an experienced painter, he moved his hands, working his wrists in small precise movements. It was hard to carve shapes with such unwieldy tools as swords, but after decades of practice, Gaoshom believed himself quite the artist. He could feel the boy''s rapt attention, eyes wide as saucers, body tense in his seated position.


    Gaoshom allowed himself a private grin as he upped his speed. He could make it much more of a show.


    With a great sword, and with his latest carving already in the general shape of a sitting man. He moved his arms much faster, his sword blurring, his concentration ramping up to the max, and the curving coming to life. He curved the face, the wide eyes he could sense with his settled spirit, the little sword at the boy''s hip, and his large, once white robes and sandals, his crossed legs. Only two minutes later Gaoshom stood panting over the boy he''d just carved.


    ¡°A gift to commemorate our sharing of insights,¡± he said as he gave the boy the carving.


    The boy accepted it with an open mouth. He seemed to be lost for words.


    ¡°This island is a lot more generous than most of the other lands I''ve visited over the last decades. The elves shot me out of their forest before I could challenge their masters, although I had good practice cutting down their arrows and spells, and the dwarves only like to compete with those physically strong. The temple of light masters wanted aspected treasures to show me their techniques. But here, everyone just accepts my challenges.¡±


    ¡°Decades? I take it you made it to the demon continent, then?¡±


    ¡°The haven of all wandering warriors. There I exchanged pointers with all manner of weapon masters. Even a grandmaster of the axe once. That did not go well.¡±


    ¡°A grandmaster? And yet I''ve had not a tale of you winning a single fight of hundreds you''ve had on our island?¡±


    ¡°I''ve come to realise that I learn more from my failures than my successes. When I finally find my truth and become a master, I''ll have lost a million fights, and almost died a million times. The experience is more important than a simple win.¡±


    ¡°You aim for grand mastery and beyond?¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± the boy answered with a nod.


    ¡°Grand ambitions, grand ambitions!¡± Gaoshom declared, quite pleased. ¡°Has your sword journey been fruitful, then? Are you tired of tempering yourself yet? Are you weary?¡±


    The boy smiled a tired smile but answered nonetheless. ¡°I do get tired, at times. But I can only move forward, run away from my ghosts.¡±


    Gaoshom sensed he''d come close to something with the boy''s last statement. It was obvious the boy didn''t want to talk about it though. And everyone had their secrets. Well, the boy had somehow taken decades in pursuit of the sword, traveling further than Gaoshom had back in the day. He deserved his respect, if anything. Gaoshom stood, and the boy stood with him, hands on hilts.


    Through unspoken agreement, they walked out of Gaoshom''s little shed, his sanctuary, to the sparring compound dead center of Gaoshom''s complex. The apprentices stopped their training, leaving the yard free.


    They stood equidistant from each other, eyes studying, bodies loose in a pantomime of cool relaxation. They were anything but relaxed. At least Gaoshom was. His heart drummed in his ears, his hands shook, but the firmness of his great sword supported him.


    The boy moved one foot forward, bending his body in a crouched stance. He''d be making the first move. Gaoshom tensed his lower body muscles in readiness. The boy took one step with his trailing leg, and then he was charging, a streak of white running towards him. Gaoshom launched himself skyward, the boy''s blade thrust forward and found nothing but air.


    Gaoshom charged his opening move, holding his great sword over his head with both hands. The boy, fast as was advertised crouched even lower than before, the tip of his sword touching the earth. Gaoshom would have avoided this with any other opponent, but he decided to start with a standard earth-shattering technique, augmented with his aura of hardness and strength.


    He wanted to test the boy before he started to show him his more finessed techniques. How would the boy respond to brute strength? The correct answer should have been with quality, but then again, Gaoshom had more quality than the boy. A simple attack from a master had more quality than the most polished strike of a peak advanced warrior.


    The boy had a response though. Quantity. With his legendary speed, a barrage of tiny blade after images met Gaoshom''s attack. They were all crushed, but they bought the boy the seconds he needed to get out of the attack radius. And he was on Gaoshom in a heartbeat, a swing Gaoshom had to use all his warrior''s spirit to block. And then his spirit met the boy''s, and they were¡­equal? Huh? The boy had not been kidding about traversing three continents. Maybe he''d even faced a real war once or twice, come close to dying. How else would his battle intent have grown this much at such a young age?


    Gaoshom projected his sword, pushing the boy''s attack back. He couldn''t get his guard up in time, but he didn''t need to. His defenses could not be penetrated that easily. With his growing insights into control, he''d learned to control his sword projections like they were autonomous.


    The boy flipped and fell back a few steps. He wore a frown like he was thinking of doing something, but then he sighed and changed his leading hand. Gaoshom frowned a moment. Had the boy been using his non-dominant hand as the leading hand in the beginning?


    He didn''t have time to think. The boy was on him in a minute. Gaoshom''s old bones were warming up, his muscles loosening. He managed to intercept one of the boy''s swings with his blade, their swords clanging together in a beautiful sound of steel on steel. The boy''s blade bent around his own, and Gaoshom had to imbue his own body with his sword aura. His battle intent becoming sharp enough it drew blood from the boy''s leading arm. The boy flipped in retreat, not wasting time to get into a stance.


    Gaoshom laughed. The boy''s sword had slithered past his guard like a snake. Well, Gaoshom defending was a bit of an anomaly, and it was time to show this boy why. He had finished warming up.


    He could tell that his charge was faster than the boy''s, faster even than the boy could follow given how his eyes widened at Gaoshom''s sudden appearance. The boy probably thought polishing his earth-shattering technique into a movement technique was a new thing, but Gaoshom was a master of earth-shattering. Of course, he''d done it all, and more. The boy did manage to get his sword up in time to block, but he was still sent skidding on the smooth sandy ground like a ragdoll. He was light, small, built for speed.


    Gaoshom would show him why strength was the better build. He was there in an instant, standing over the boy with his blade raised. Only the boy wasn''t just lying like he was supposed to be. He''d corrected, getting to his feet in an already crouched stance.


    Gaoshom''s blade descended, and the boy''s blade ascended together with his body. When they met Gaoshom pushed the boy downward, crushing him. He realised moments later, that the boy had angled his blade in such a way that as Gaoshom pushed him downwards, he pushed him inwards too, into his guard. Gaoshom stepped back out of instinct, the upswing passing a few inches in front of his nose.


    He jumped back, crouched in his stance, and stared unblinkingly at his opponent. The boy, breathing hard now, stared him down too. The rest of the courtyard stood silent, watching, awed. The world stilled, waited, held its breath.


    Gaoshom didn''t know who moved first, but then they were both at the center, blades soaring. Steel met steel, ringing, sparks flying.


    Gaoshom pushed his opponent back, but the boy was back before he knew it.


    They fought for nine hours. Gaoshom had not had such a glorious battle in years.

 Chapter 20. An Inciting Event

    Noid became more transparent with each passing moment. Still, he happily sacrificed his ability to test anyone for the next million years or so. What he had not expected was for the others to help power his trial as well. There was a belief among them, that maybe, just maybe, after thousands of years, the seventh Skyholm may yet walk the multiverse.


    Noid did not share their optimism. He didn''t not believe in his disciple, he just didn''t care if the boy grew to become a guardian-level entity or not. Having one soul finish his trial was a miracle in any case.


    ¡°How far is the boy now?¡± the enchantress asked.


    ¡°He has found passage back to Amariah. He will land in the North of the continent though, in the magic city of Shariah.¡±


    ¡°He intends to pit himself against grand mages now?¡±


    Noid only nodded.


    ¡°How far did he decide to push the idea of a hybrid fighting style?¡±


    ¡°The templars were hardly impressive,¡± Noid said with a scoff. ¡°Ultimately, my disciple decided dabbling in magic was not for him.¡±


    ¡°You sound too pleased with that, Noid?¡±


    ¡°Heck yeah! You won''t be able to pollute his mind with your weird long-distance swordplay now,¡± Noid answered.


    ¡°I love it when Enith is miffed,¡± Sam, the most childish member of their pantheon, said.


    ¡°And it can only help him to gain mastery over the one thing he has set his mind to,¡± the first Skyholm commented.


    ¡°Not necessarily,¡± Enith said.


    ¡°Oh?¡± Sam said mockingly.


    Enith ignored her, passing on a note to Noid. Why she needed - or even how she made - a note confused Noid to no end. They were spirits, for crying out loud.


    Noid frowned. ¡°You want him to start this slow for his first few class evolutions?¡±


    ¡°Yes. And mind you I didn''t just develop this training plan for the boy. I had theories such a development would be good, especially for someone without too many resources and who had to figure out everything themselves. Still, developing this slowly has too many detriments, one of which is he''d be too weak to defend himself in, say a dungeon.


    ¡°But that is not a problem with this one. He doesn''t need to depend on stats for power, especially in the beginning. He will need them later, but he can survive without them in the beginning. He needs to minimize his stats at the beginning. And the skills he''ll gain, he might be able to crack and use them to very great effect. My final point, though, is that he is at a major disadvantage when compared to the other elites in the multiverse.¡±


    Noid studied the instructions for a long time.


    ¡°How so?¡± he asked finally.


    ¡°He has only one class slot. Now that is par for the course for someone from an Essence Desert, but even in such places, there will be the lucky few. When he goes to the multiverse though, where his peers will have the benefit of, say, multiple epic classes, a class and a profession, high-affinity classes, strong bloodlines that influence their classes and magic and truths, and strong innate abilities. These little advantages we''re giving him might not stack up.¡±


    ¡°That is no problem. There is no doubt in my mind he''ll gain more slots by the time his race is A-rank,¡± the first Skyholm said.


    ¡°Think it over, Noid,¡± Enith ignored the previous comment like she''d heard nothing. ¡°Isn''t this your mantra to him? The basics have to be pinned down before he starts hunting dragons.¡±


    Noid sighed. Tired, he was so damn tired. On the one hand, his disciple''s achievements, having surpassed every single challenger the trial had ever seen were great. On the other hand, it was stressful.


    Having all these nosy people in his atrium was so annoying.


    ¡°Hey look, he has turned off the adamance skill again. Now he''s stressing about seeing Jonathan and the others after almost twenty-five years. Wait, he thinks the girls are married already?¡±


    Noid snorted at Sam''s running commentary. He excused himself, saying he''d varied the time dilation effect to preserve the trial''s energy, centre it on the boy. In truth, he suspected he just didn''t want the boy leaving the trial an emotional wreck. And maybe he''d also done it for Jonathan and the others.


    ¡°By the way, Enith, what''s up with the trial helpers? It cannot be a coincidence the way things have developed.¡±


    ¡°How should I know?!¡± Enith snapped. ¡°It is your trial, isn''t it?¡±


    ¡°Yes, it is¡­¡± Noid said slowly, studying her.


    She wouldn''t meet his eyes.


    ¡°Enith!¡±


    It wasn''t every day the first Skyholm spoke in such a warning tone.


    ¡°Fine,¡± she huffed. ¡°I believe it has something to do with the children, okay? Argh, let me go and do a little research. But still, this is why I need the opportunity this child presents. If the children continue the way they are now, then this was all a waste of time.¡±


    She stormed off, they watched. They liked to tease that she had no emotions, but Enith might have been the most emotional person Noid knew. They all knew she meant something far bigger than this little trial when she said everything was a waste of time.


    ¡°Poor En,¡± Sam said.


    Her biggest detractor in her presence, Noid knew Sam admired Enith more than anyone. After all, the girl had managed to steal all the other guardians¡¯ mantles despite having two of her own. She''d accomplished something Sam, as the greatest thief, only dreamt of. So there was a bit of admiration there, but also envy.


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    ¡°Well, the final act is about to start anyway. Let''s finish the boy''s training, shall we?¡±


    Noid liked her positivity, but she didn''t know, couldn''t even guess. She saw it, he winced, wishing his poor ears godspeed.


    ¡°Wait, Is that supposed to be me? What in the void am I doing there?! What the void did you do, Noid?! Enith!¡±


    ****


    There was a settlement just North of the Grayward kingdom, in the Sognon mountain range. Rafe had been a whole month in this place, enjoying their food, their lively nights of music and stories around hearth fires, their bubbly and friendly women, their colourful dressing and even more colourful language, and their bitter, poisonous beverages.


    ¡°Get out of my tavern!¡± Su¡¯Arian shouted not for the first time. ¡°I will not indulge your asinine bid for suicide, you flatland¡­stalk of wheat. If you want to die, choke on your spit, or bite your damn jewels off. Gods know no one''s going to touch them for you.¡±


    ¡°Hey, it is not polite to talk about other people''s jewels. Unless you''re interested?¡± Rafe replied with all the hope he could put into the word.


    ¡°I suppose you want to drown in piss, you little¡­bucket of dung.¡±


    ¡°Your insults are getting a little less creative by the day.¡±


    ¡°Just don''t come back to my tavern!¡± the young woman shouted as she banged the door shut.


    Rafe shrugged as he picked himself up. He had always been one for drowning out his problems, and the closer he got to Grayward, the more scared he got. He had unfinished business there, way too much unfinished business.


    He had been gone longer than he''d planned, lost in his search for the secrets of the universe. When he''d last seen the twins, they must have been about six or seven. That was before he''d gone off and joined Orlandir and Grunter. Now they must be in their thirties. Were they married? Did they still remember him?


    And Celene? If she was married, Rafe didn''t know what he''d do, what he''d think. He didn''t think he still had feelings for her. He just¡­didn''t want her to be with another man. It was irrational. It was selfish, but a part of his heart would break if that happened. And then there was Jonathan.


    He slept only a few hours that day, and by nightfall, he''d sobered up. He spent a little over three hours going through his drills, making sure not to lose the edge he''d developed over the past few decades. And then he was back at the tavern, and Su¡¯Arian couldn''t turn away a paying customer.


    The moment he entered the tavern though, he noticed the difference in atmosphere. All the prodigiously tall men were tenser than usual. There was no one on the seat tonight, playing a lively string instrument. The elderly storyteller was in her chair, squinting toward the counter with a frown.


    There were more flat landers, as the mountain people called them, than normal. This was not strange, as there was a possibility of a caravan passing through every now and then, although this was not the most established route. Only, the people he saw at the counter were armed. Maybe they were caravan guards, but all of them?


    Rafe himself had taken to leaving his sword back at his lodgings, as was only polite in the village''s culture. All these little details were suspicious, but what did Rafe have to fear from people''s scheming?


    ¡°Hey, Su¡¯Arian! Give me the usual, if you please.¡±


    She tensed when he spoke, and under his face-obscuring hair, Rafe frowned.


    ¡°You have long hair, like a woman''s,¡± one of the men at the counter spoke. ¡°Too bad you don''t keep it clean enough.¡±


    ¡°I hear barbarians like to tie it into a ponytail. Marks them for warriors or some such,¡± a woman in the group guffawed.


    ¡°Free piece of advice buddy. You''d be able to get a few girls that way,¡± a man commented, earning him a few laughs from the others.


    Rafe didn''t rise to their taunts at all. This was not a real world. These were just Noid''s mental projections. Doing it with them would have felt¡­sick. He couldn''t imagine it. Not that if he got the chance he''d pass on it, but he''d still feel dirty. Luckily the girls always played hard to get, like Su¡¯Arian.


    Still, his new friends didn''t like that he was ignoring their playful taunting.


    ¡°Hey ¡­ buddy? Are you ignoring us? Do you know who we are?¡±


    Rafe frowned under his locks of disheveled hair. He spread out his aura senses, and they were indeed strong. They didn''t sense his probe though, which had him frowning. Why were they so confident if they were this incompetent in basic aura manipulation?


    ¡°Hey, come to think of it,¡± one of the ruffians spoke over their noise, "doesn''t this guy quite fit the description of this so-called Guy Wilde we''re chasing after?¡±


    Rafe tensed. Su¡¯Arian was walking toward him with a pitcher filled with white brain-numbing juice. It smelled positively acrid.


    ¡°Yes¡­¡± someone said hesitantly. ¡°That is how I''d expect this so-called Guy Wilde to have looked five years ago.¡±


    Five years ago? Rafe didn''t let his body react at all except for his initial tensing. He could see worry creasing on Su¡¯Arian¡¯s face. She was scared, worried. But for what, her tavern?


    ¡°So what? The great swordsman the great Duke Ellan has been wetting his pants over is a dying drank? He hasn''t become more impressive than he was back then. If this is him, then I''d assume he has even lost some weight.¡±


    Rafe allowed his head to rise at that, his eyes narrowing at his opponents from under his curtain of hair. Su¡¯Arian had arrived by then though, and her relatively large frame covered his scan of the adventurers from sight. He stared up at her face and saw a kind of plea in her tearing eyes. He nodded slightly in understanding. He wouldn''t fight in her house if he could help it, and if he couldn''t he''d try to minimize the destruction.


    A knife flew towards her head though, giving Rafe no choice but to kick the back of her knees. He moved his chair from behind the table so he''d catch her in his lap before she tumbled. She sat there in his arms, her eyes wide and her mouth open in surprise, until the knife landed with a thud on the wall of the tavern.


    An oppressive silence fell over the usually lively room. Slowly, Su¡¯Arian looked between Rafe and the woman who''d thrown the knife. Slowly, the people of the mountains got off their seats. Slowly, Rafe took his hands off Su¡¯Arian''s body and tied his hair behind his head.


    Under the disorganized hair, he had a still young-looking face which he still kept clean despite the rest of him. He liked to think Su¡¯Arian was more stunned silent by his beauty than anything else, but that was his vanity speaking. He refused to believe he was repulsive to women. He was damn handsome, or at least not ugly.


    He guided Su¡¯Arian off his lap, stood up, and pushed her behind him.


    ¡°Listen, Mr Kingsley¡ª¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± he said with a smile and a wink. ¡°I''ll try not to destroy your tavern, promise.¡±


    That was right. He had way more unfinished business in Grayward than the family drama he''d been dreading. A whole murder of nobles, as in murder of crows, was going to be murdered.


    And there had been something about five years¡­


    ****


    Kayle Hemet, the guild master of Hossford city''s adventurer''s guild, the second largest city in Grayward, was polishing his spear when the door to his office burst open to admit a panting Cynthia.


    ¡°You are not my secretary anymore. Haven''t been my secretary for about ten years now, and you''re still budging in like you own the place.¡±


    ¡°I have urgent news,¡± she said in between gasps for breath, ignoring Kayle¡¯s prattling.


    ¡°Urgent news? Well, do go on.¡±


    ¡°The Ellan family is moving. The guild in Grayward¡­ their whole roaster of jade rankers¡­ they''re all gone.¡±


    ¡°What?! All gone? What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Months ago, someone fitting the description of a one Guy Wilde was spotted in a martial tournament in Shariah.¡±


    ¡°And Noid?¡±


    ¡°Not there. Their informants followed the boy Southward for a few weeks, but then he stopped at the Sognon mountains. The Ellans are worried he''s waiting for Noid so that the two attack them together.¡±


    ¡°Ahh, hence our missing Jade rankers.¡±


    Kayle tapped his fingers on his desk, biting his lips as he thought about the matter. It was anything but simple.


    ¡°What do you think they''ll do once they realise their gamble hasn''t paid off?¡±


    ¡°Something desperate, no doubt.¡±


    ¡°Right. Write to your friends, Jasmine and Rhea. Yeah, those two. I''ll write to Jonathan.¡±


    ¡°Too late! I''m already here.¡±


    Jonathan was indeed already in the office. Cynthia hadn''t closed the door behind her, and so they hadn''t heard the man come in. His friend did not look good. He did not seem to be doing well at all. These last five years, with no one knowing a single thing about his two monster boys, had been too hard on Jonathan. Whatever was happening now though, whatever was happening now was worse.


    ¡°What is going on, Jonathan?¡±


    ¡°My girls. These damn Ellan pigs got my girls. I''m going to storm the damn capital and burn it to the ground.¡±

 Chapter 21. Trial Conclusion Eminent

    Rafe thought the guys he was fighting were dangerous if a little bit underwhelming compared to the experts he''d fought over his journey. Still, there were thousands of ways to win a fight and a million to lose one you thought you would win without any doubt. He would know. He couldn''t remember the last time he''d won a fight against someone who was supposed to be at his level.


    The tournament in Shariah had been a kind of reprieve. There he''d met combatants he could crush with pure might. Then he''d gone up against archmages and advanced practitioners. Rafe knew he was in a special position, based on the fact he was weaker than anyone at his level should be. Weaker physically, that was.


    He did not have the statistics to match people at level fifty to seventy-five. That was why people who should have been his peers were still a little stronger than him. Still, he managed to hold on until he faced the first grand mage in his bracket in an epic duel that had them destroying the whole simulated combat field. With his flighty style, even though his endurance was lagging, he was hard to take out.


    He lost in the end, but every grand mage he challenged thereafter accepted to fight him. He had gotten experience fighting the best mages on this continent, and probably this world. And they had all been above level one hundred in the eyes of the system. A whole race ranked above him if he remembered the ranking system Noid had given him right. Still, every once in a while, Rafe had lost fights to people his weight class or lower. Simply because they were more talented sometimes, but also because they had more cunning than he had anticipated.


    He had a weakness. He had spent thirty five years now sharpening his blade, and if he ever landed on an opponent who he couldn''t cut, well, things took a bad turn. If his opponent specialised, in say, spacial magic, illusions, even just plain old barrier magic, Rafe would lose, not to mention tanks. He was so easily countered. It was worse if his opponent was clever.


    Rafe had always known he wasn''t the best thinker, but the trance he fell into during combat had exacerbated the fact. He couldn''t think. He could only attack, try to cut. At least his well honed techniques weren''t left to the wayside when he entered his trance. He wasn''t some kind of berserker, but he was pretty sure this was some kind of skill he would find once he unlocked his status screen.


    All these and more thoughts flashed through his mind as he studied the opponents arrayed before him. He hadn''t fought seriously in months, and he didn''t have his swords. His body trembled as he stepped away from Su¡¯Arian. He couldn''t tell if he was scared or excited.


    He watched as the hecklers got serious. He saw at least three peel off from the group and almost disappear. He had his fair experience with assassins by now though, and he''d spent months training with the masters of illusions, the light masters on their floating island.


    He wasn''t scared of the assassins. The mundane-looking scouts and porters though, he kept a close eye on those. And maybe that was a mistake, given he was still a bit hangover from the previous night''s festivities. An axe wielder screamed as he charged him. The war cry was all that saved Rafe from a self-perpetrated ambush.


    He lifted a chair to block the axe. The chair broke into pieces of wood and debris. All Rafe retained were two legs, and those would have to be enough, for though they were light, they fit his hands well. He grinned as he looked at the man ahead of him. With a single twirl, the man cried as he barreled into his comrades. Then Rafe was among them. The time for thinking was over.


    A fire spell flew towards him, and since he''d promised to protect the tavern, could only try to cut through it with his pieces of blunt wood. Only, they couldn''t cut, and he hadn''t infused sharpness into them, as Noid had warned him against cultivating insights in the void.


    The fire hit him with a whoosh, and he flew back a few paces, looking at his body in disbelief. He stared at his enemies once more, and he couldn''t keep a grin from his face. He didn''t even bother trying to defuse the flames as he swung in the direction of the fire mage, his movement technique carrying him almost unseen right to her side. He cloaked her before she could react, and by the time a sword swing cleaved that location he''d long since left.


    He had a few seconds before the flames, hotter than normal flames, burned through his barely surviving threads. He wanted this fight done before that could be a problem. Sometimes this was why he lost. He liked to set challenges for himself during the fight, even if it was already a hard fight. This time though, he was just stretching his wings a little.


    The mages would fall first, he decided, even as he danced through their ill-formed formation. Then all ranged fighters. Then the melee fighters would panic, those who were fast enough to follow him at least. They might have had better stats all told, but his agility stat was more effective than theirs two times over. He''d specialised in it for a long time, squeezing every ounce of potential from it and more. He was sure he had a skill that passively made moving easier, boosting his agility further.


    And his flexibility too, even if that was not a stat he remembered. Still, the ease with which his muscles responded to the smallest instruction? He was there, among three mages lost to the motions of their spells. His left leg, his body still in the air, aimed at the temple of one of the mages, his right leg aimed to help him land, and both his arms were attacking like they had minds of their own.


    He launched himself with his right leg before he''d even fully landed, like a ballerina bouncing off a pond, and he was among the next group of five, his body twisting and turning like he was made of rubber and not cartilage and bone. He didn''t kill anyone. It was the privilege of the strong, and for some reason, he felt like these guys were not stronger than him.


    They were perhaps elites, between levels twenty-five and fifty. They only had, if that, twice as many stats as him if he had to guess. And Rafe could deal with someone who only doubled the number of stats he had because his supposed peers tripled his stats.


    Only people below the threshold of mastery depended on their stats wholesale like these idiots did. Rafe wondered if, at least according to this world, he''d long reached the realm of mastery even without using a single concept ability. Then again, maybe training his agility stat to the max had gotten him some insight into speed. Maybe he had and was unconsciously using insight into momentum. That would be bad for his future development, but he couldn''t get himself to care.


    He bounced off a shield with his wooden staves breaking into mere shrapnel. A piece of paper flattered after him, and he almost ignored it. He rolled away at the last second as the talisman exploded. There was something off about the green flames it spewed.


    He cursed himself for having forgotten to keep track of the porters. One was already aiming to shoot him down with a crossbow. He''d bet everything it was an exploding shot. The damn bastards were going to burn down Su¡¯Arian''s tavern, and he''d promised her.


    He moved so fast even he couldn''t believe it. He intercepted the bolt a centimeter away from its crossbow, then he redirected it straight into an open window. The explosion sent the villagers into a tizzy, but the adventurers just stared at him, shocked.


    The talisman user scrambled to get something from his bag, but Rafe arrived before he was ready, or so he thought. The talisman user backpedaled with a smirk, leaving his dummy bag in Rafe''s scrambling hands. He jumped at the last second, the trap array blasting a swathe of hot green liquid upward, like a volcano. Rafe watched the floor melt, and he seethed. That was Su¡¯Arian''s floor.


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    Rafe charged the talisman user before he could regroup with the others. His vicious attack was redirected though, instead landing on a shield he hadn''t been aiming for and bouncing back. Before the shield wielder could celebrate though, the momentum of the bounce helped Rafe body check a spear wielder who hadn''t seen him enter his range. And for some reason, Rafe bounced right off, feeling the other man''s bones snap, yet none of Rafe''s did.


    He grabbed the flying spear, turned it butt up, and cloaked a wide-eyed assassin who had no idea she was not fooling anyone with her hiding spot. He did not rest, not even for a moment, going for the talisman wielder before anyone could react. The crossbowman was holding an enchanted spear now. Rafe saw it, saw the trick, and pretended to fall for it. He''d fought enough explosion mages to know the gimmick. He just had to make sure their weapons didn''t touch, easy. That one went down as well.


    He was like the wind, with a cape of fire following him wherever he went. The last person he had to defeat was a tank, go figure. And by then he had long since spent ten seconds longer than he had planned for, and so the fire made calculating his approach difficult. He was in pain. What better could he do than throw ineffectual fiery fists at the shield, pushing the shield wielder back with an unconscious application of a heavy blow skill?


    The shield wielder decided it was impossible someone could get the better of his impenetrable defense, and he charged a shield bash. Rafe gained clarity long enough to remember the technique he had faced hundreds of times before, and after dodging it, cloaked that man too.


    He stood there, with only a few threads trying, and failing, to prevent his skin from scalding.


    ¡°Well, that was something,¡± he said to the stunned tavern.


    It hadn''t taken him fifty seconds to defeat a horde of warriors anyone would have called elites in the pre-system era.


    Of course, he hadn''t known they were elites when he first beat them. He didn''t know anything about them.


    Su¡¯Arian rushed towards him, fussing over nothing, in his opinion. It was strange, she wasn''t even looking at the mass of bodies he had very carefully deposited so they didn''t touch any of her furniture. She wasn''t looking at the exploded floor boards, corrupted by a poisonous green fire.


    ¡°Your clothes are all ruined!¡± she yelped. ¡°Did it burn you?¡±


    She was touching his exposed, blackened shoulder. It was just soot, he was sure. The fire might have nicked his skin and heated it a little, but it hadn''t been going long enough to outright burn him.


    ¡°I''m fine, relax,¡± he assured, then, looking around, he frowned, ¡°and I kept my word, see? The tavern is still standing. There might be a few drops of errant blood here and there, but I''m sure you can¡ª¡±


    She grumbled something, or rather mumbled loudly, he couldn''t quite tell. It was loud and gruff enough to get his attention, but still unintelligible somehow.


    ¡°What was that?¡±


    ¡°I said, it wasn''t the tavern I was worried about, you idiot!¡± she yelled with a vicious glare. ¡°It''s a tavern. Fights happen all the time.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Me¡­ you were worried about me?¡±


    She looked away from him then, doing her best to hide her face from him. She couldn''t hide the heat creeping up her neck. Something in Rafe stirred at that, something like pride, self-confidence. Su¡¯Arian was taller than most women, and at twenty-five in a peaceful society, she was considered a spinster. Rafe couldn''t but imagine the woman had fallen for him, and he was fast forgetting all his scruples about Noid''s mind and whatnot. When he''d just entered the trial, he would have been a lot shorter than her. Thirty years later, and although he still looked about twenty, he was at least much taller.


    This woman was cute, with all her tough love and kicking him out of the tavern every morning.


    ¡°You look a lot younger with your hair done up like that. And you are a lot stronger than I thought too,¡± she said, still not meeting his eyes.


    Rafe took a step toward her, intending to wrap her up in an embrace.


    ¡°You bastard! Do you know who we are?¡±


    Rafe tensed, turning to look at the interrupter with what he hoped was a promise of violence if this chance was stolen. The man, stunned as he''d been, wasn''t even looking at him. He was trying to get to his feet, his trembling feet, using a nearby table for support. Rafe was about to answer that no, he didn''t know, and didn''t care, but the man spoke before he did.


    ¡°We are jade rankers, you bastard. We are the best Grayward has to offer. You think you can just beat us like this? No, you can''t. We''ll get you, I swear we''ll get you. We''ll kill you slowly.¡±


    Rafe''s eyes widened, his countenance shifting to one of confusion. Jade ranked adventurers. The so-called elites, just below the peak tier elites known as masters, who were below the hidden juggernauts called grandmasters. They''d been so weak.


    ¡°No. No. Nooo! You can''t be jade rankers, you''re so weak.¡±


    ¡°Huh? What did you say, you bastard?¡±


    Rafe was still confused, but the murmurs from the villagers, who''d backed away when the fighting started brought him back. Su¡¯Arian was behind him, and the new situation that might be developing with her was more important than¡ª


    ¡°You offended the wrong people, boy,¡± another adventurer said. ¡°Even if you leave here alive, you will never know a day of peace. Neither will those rotten mercenaries.¡±


    Rafe''s neck snapped around so fast, it was a wonder he didn''t pull a muscle.


    ¡°That''s right? Who would hire at least five jade-rank parties looking for me? That doesn''t make sense,¡± he thought out loud, trying to wrap his mind around the situation.


    No one said anything for a moment, but Rafe''s mind was racing. He''d just thought about it, hadn''t he? Returning to Grayward was the same as returning home to his friends and family, but he also had enemies there. He''d killed a party of jade-rank adventurers, and maybe a coalition of them had decided the fact that a silver ranked had killed their own was cause for a reckoning. Or even worse.


    He moved before he could think better of it, kicking the man who was still struggling to get up straight on the chin. The man cried as he fell back. Rafe didn''t care. He stomped down on the man''s hand, eliciting a sharp cry.


    ¡°Who hired you?¡±


    The man only screamed louder.


    Another kick, this time to the stomach, then again, and again. The man was spitting blood.


    ¡°Who hired you?!¡± he yelled, stomping on the man''s hand again, increasing the pressure every few seconds.


    He was sure the man''s wrist was going to snap a bunch more times if the fool did not answer his question.


    ¡°The Ellan family! The Ellan family did!¡±


    ¡°The Ellan family?¡± Rafe said quietly, half question, half confirmation.


    He kicked the man in the face, crushing his nose and knocking him out. He scanned the grounded bodies, looking for the second person to speak, the one who''d been giving ominous warnings.


    He kicked him a bunch of times, just trying to work through his thoughts. Noid had said his avatar was leaving the trial before Rafe had started his sword journey. Noid had stopped him from going to the noble district before, saying Rafe had been too weak at the time. Now there was no Noid, so he could take them down. There was also something these fools had said earlier, something about him having been gone only five years.


    Still, if he could show the damn Ellans that he didn''t fear them. If he sent the adventurers back in pieces, maybe they''d leave him alone. He could settle here with Su¡¯Arian and¡ª


    ¡°They are going to take the girls!¡± the man he was kicking cried.


    Rafe stopped then, stopped filtering out the man''s piteous wails, and stopped kicking his guts out.


    ¡°Explain,¡± he said, his voice so ice cold even he didn''t recognize it.


    ¡°They hired an emerald assassin, I think you killed someone she trained. They hired her with us, at the capital. She''s going to kidnap Wilde''s daughters.¡±


    Shit! That was all Rafe could think after hearing that. An emerald rank, a mythical rank. The equivalent of masters, although oftentimes believed to be even stronger. They hadn''t mastered a concept ability. Instead, they''d mastered their skills fully.


    In the system era, they''d be the kind of people who''d maxed out all the levels of their skills, upgraded them, and continued leveling them, hence having skills that hit twice as hard as normal. And they had high levels too, skipping the bottleneck jade rankers faced at about level fifty by virtue of their skill prowess. They oftentimes also had at least partial insights, only lacking a developed concept and its ability. If they managed to develop their insights long enough, they could even skip the level seventy-five and one hundred bottlenecks that even some masters got stuck at.


    All of this was to say, this was going to be a problem. He couldn''t in good conscience ignore a problem he had brought to the Wildes¡¯ doorstep. He had thought he could fool around for a bit here in the mountains, but¡­


    Hadn''t Noid said how long the trial lasted depended on energy? And his resurrections depended on that same energy. Even his adamance of the blade ran on this energy as far as he knew. He had died about fifteen times during his journey, that he could remember. Once in the elven forest, once when he went to visit the light templars on Maeve, and a


    few handfuls of times on the demon continent. He couldn''t deny the obvious anymore.


    The trial was going to end with this next confrontation. He looked at Su¡¯Arian, his face blank. And the look she gave him... She knew too.

 Chapter 22. A Tale of Two Roads

    Rafe sat at a table with Su¡¯Arian, watching the adventurers rouse their fellows and inform them of his instructions. He wouldn''t leave these ruffians in Su¡¯Arian¡¯s tavern. He would at least make sure she didn''t lose that.


    ¡°These people¡­these Wildes? They are why you have been hiding here all these months?¡±


    He didn''t know why she hadn''t asked about the Ellans instead, but then she''d always been smart.


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said with a sigh. ¡°I didn''t know how to face them.¡±


    ¡°Now you know how,¡± she said, not a question. ¡°Will you stay with them, after everything is dealt with?¡±


    He knew what she was asking. He knew, but he didn''t know what to say. It wasn''t a real world. They were all going to die anyway.


    ¡°I don''t know if everything will be dealt with, Su¡¯Arian. There is an emerald to consider.¡±


    ¡°You''re not coming back, are you?¡± she eyed the table, her hands fidgeting with her skirt underneath it.


    Rafe didn''t want to answer her. He didn''t know how to answer her. He couldn''t comfort her with a lie.


    She jumped over the table suddenly. Rafe reeled back a bit, but he hadn''t gotten far before her hands had his head in a vice grip. She kissed him on the lips, and Rafe melted. She was soft when he touched her body. Somehow he''d thought she''d be a bit harder, rougher, what with her rough tongue and everything.


    She broke off first, looking at him with rosy cheeks, panting to regain her breath. He didn''t know what expression he was making, but he was stunned silent. She didn''t give him time to collect himself before she stood and started to rush away from him.


    ¡°To remember me by,¡± she said as she walked off.


    Rafe started to follow, started to call out her name. Someone grabbed his arms, their hands rough and wrinkled, bathed in time. The old lady, the village storykeeper. She shook her head at him, her other hand pointing outside where the last of the rogue adventurers were limping out of the tavern.


    Rafe walked out of the tavern, not looking back once.


    ****


    He looked South and East first, back towards Hossford city, back towards the Wilde village, and further South from that, back to where he''d fought in a war he didn''t remember too much of. They were frantic days, those, fighting every single day, watching his squad mates die. Rafe sighed.


    He allowed himself one last longing look. Then he about-faced and headed West. He didn''t know where he was going. He''d never been to Grayward City. But he knew there was a red lake or something of the sort.


    It didn''t really have red water, or blood for that matter. There was apparently a mineral there, batzite. It was a red crystal, very reflective. It was illegal to mine in the red lake, mostly because it polluted the environment, according to science.


    Rafe found it hilarious when people in such a medieval world talked about science and the like. They were just so far behind even the simplest technology on earth, it wasn''t even funny. But then this world, at least according to Noid, was based on his memories from before the system became a thing.


    Rafe thought about it, as he had nothing to do for most of his journey but think. Noid had always made sure to drum it into him that this world was not representative of the current state of the multiverse. This world and the other trial worlds the other Skyholms had built, were just meant to give those daring to challenge fate a second chance.


    Those that by accident, or design, tackled dangerous dungeons, odds so far against them there was every chance they would die. The driven ones. Either personally, or by fate, in lieu of accidental entry. Those were the ones who''d go on to achieve great things in the multiverse, and maybe one of the thousands may rise to become another Skyholm.


    ¡°But, I would think in a multiverse, with say¡­a billion worlds ¡ª¡± Noid snorted at the estimation, but Rafe ignored him and continued. ¡°In a multiverse with infinite worlds, at least a few million people are dying in dungeons even as we speak.¡±


    Noid had frowned, Rafe remembered, probably wondering if he should tell him or not. In the end, he''d decided to relent.


    ¡°We are just Soul remnants, boy. We aren''t the only ones even at this moment handing out trials. There are not a billion of us, however. So obviously some unlucky souls slip through the cracks. Besides, ours isn''t the only legacy out there. One of very few legacy trials, sure, but not the only legacy.


    ¡°Although, since we are a pantheon of guardians from way before the system, and considering the other guardians never passed their mantles on, I''d say ours might just be the pinnacle legacy of the multiverse. And of course, you have to consider who crafted the legacy too.¡±


    ¡°So these other legacy trials also save people very close to death?¡±


    ¡°No. That is just a Skyholm thing, because of Ah-Riam. You remember the first thing you saw when you entered the void?¡±


    ¡°The broken boy?¡±


    ¡°The very same. That was how Skyholm was born, and that was how Ah-Riam decided we''d try to find our next member, even without a mantle.¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait. Let''s get back. These unlucky ones you talked about? They what, just die?¡±


    Noid shrugged, but he never once took his eyes off Rafe.


    ¡°I did mention something about fate, didn''t I? We cannot save everyone. If you''re unlucky, then you are ill-fated. That is all. I would also like to remind you, that these trials have a not quite a hundred percent success rate.¡±


    ¡°Remind me? You''ve never told me anything about it.¡±


    Noid blinked at him like an old man who''d forgotten what he''d had for breakfast. It looked unnatural coming from his prepubescent face.


    ¡°Right, you had the memory issue. You weren''t even briefed before entering my trial, which would normally lead to serious mental health issues, but in your case, well¡­¡±


    Noid cleared his throat to bring his floating mind back to task.


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    ¡°The thing that saved the first Skyholm, I can''t say much about it, but it is the only way to save an already deteriorating body thrust into the void. It doesn''t hurt that as it was part of the first Skyholm¡¯s legacy, it was naturally deeply integrated with the mantle of Skyholm, so all of us had it, in some form or other.


    ¡°Some souls, unfortunately, reject the soul grafting process. Some people have soul damage so severe that even the soul architect can''t heal them, and some have soul mutations, plain incompatible souls, innate abilities. For whatever reason, some people can''t accept the graft, and therefore their bodies waste away ever so slowly in the void. We can''t save everyone,¡± he repeated with a sigh of regret.


    Rafe had no idea why he was thinking about these memories now. It was probably because he knew, even if he was trying not to think about it, that soon he''d be leaving the trial, heading into the multiverse alone. Was he trying to hype himself up, build expectations of hundreds, thousands more worlds to explore? Maybe even a few more legacies, if they were about swords.


    He had tried asking about the other legacies Noid had mentioned, the ones that weren''t trials. Noid had just scoffed, saying something about them just being glorified puzzle boxes. It was all very intriguing, right until Rafe remembered he hadn''t cared about any of this crap the last twenty five years. All he''d had to do was fight, all he had to think about was the next fight, all he''d had to plan was the next fight.


    Now he had to think about his life again and he didn''t like it one bit. Much better to just think about random tidbits Noid had mentioned.


    He started to think about their talks on concepts again, going through the insights he thought he would unlock once he left the void. Then he heard them, the rushing horses, the travelers scrambling to get off the path and towards the woods he was using to shadow the road.


    They didn''t get deep enough to see him, but Rafe kept a wary eye nonetheless. And that was when he noticed a familiar fiery aura. He''d once asked Noid if aura was a skill the system provided, and the man had just grumbled that everything was a skill or ability the system gave. The fiery aura of Jasmine Redwyne, an adventurer he''d traveled with once when he was taking his test for admission to the adventurer''s guild.


    He hadn''t been close with her back then, but Orlandir had been trying to date her so he knew enough. That was also why he hadn''t noticed the other two auras with her, one a pure light aura, and one of controlled destruction. Cynthia and Rhea, he concluded.


    It was strange they were together. From what he could remember, the last two times he''d seen the women interact was when something connected to him occurred, like that one night he''d gone on a rampage. And surely something similar was happening right then because they were being chased. Rafe¡¯s hand shot to his sword hilt unbidden, a small smile growing on his face. Nothing like a good fight to get out of his head.


    ¡°A small prequel?¡± he questioned the sky even as he crouched and took off after the horses and trailing raptors.


    His stats had grown, even though he couldn''t check them at the moment. He could run, fast. He could keep up with a raptor. And being as he wasn''t on the main road, he could set an intercept course, ambushing them when they least expected it.


    He ran. They ran. He saw them ahead, following the curve of the road. They couldn''t use an intercept route like him because the woods were a little elevated. It gave him enough time to launch himself up and into the raptors. He might have modified his heaviest hitting technique for speed, but momentum was momentum, according to the little physics he remembered.


    His blade cleaved right through a man''s right shoulder, setting him to howling as he fell off his out-of-control raptor. He had been attempting not to kill anyone before he had a clear picture but landing among them, seeing some holding already notched crossbows, they weren''t the friendly sort. He didn''t feel sorry for the man being stomped on by his comrades.


    He got ready to use his heavy blow skill. He was not in a sparring match today, after all. The Revered Sword Saint''s sword barrage. Rafe hadn''t been able to get it to the level Jonathan had, where he could make it seem like you were facing a hundred swordsmen at once. He did not have a concept to aid him, after all. What he did have though, was hundreds of hours worth of practice, raining blows as if he were ten swordsmen instead of one, infused with his heavy blow skill.


    Even having been caught off guard, he only managed to take out four before the other five reorganized. Of those five, three had been holding crossbows, and it wasn''t hard to make them irrelevant. Two immediately scrambled to change weapons but after Rafe was rebuffed by a surviving tank, he decided to change tacks.


    He attacked their mounts, diving low with well-aimed cuts at vital joints on their legs. They were bipedal, after all, so it wasn''t hard to get them to collapse. He smiled, Rafe did, as the shield wielder was the slowest to respond to the threat, getting one of his legs crushed as the raptor went down with him. Rafe attacked his exposed neck without hesitation. And then there were four.


    Not even giving them a chance to react, he sheathed his sword and moved both hands at the same time to grab his twin blades. He''d decided to make them smaller, almost like big daggers, their blades shaped like flames in irregular patterns for the sake of coolness.


    Two swordsmen faced him, a mage, and maybe an assassin. He wasn''t sure. The man was keeping his crossbow close to hand, though he had armed himself with two daggers now. The mage cast a spell even as Rafe ran to cut her in half. One of the swordsmen intercepted him though, faster than Rafe believed he should have been. He was shining, a golden aura shimmering around him. When their swords clashed, Rafe found himself bouncing off an impeccable rock, the recoil shocking his arms even as he hopped back out of range.


    He studied his opponents again. A buff, he concluded. It had to be. So he was dealing with a strong support mage. That was disturbing. It was even more disquieting a second later when a spell hit him in his distracted state. In his defense, if it had been a firestorm, or a lightning strike, or a blast of void, or an arcane orb, he''d have reacted on instinct and evaded it the best he could.


    This seemed almost like healing magic, peaceful, tranquil, non-threatening. He tried to charge in again, but for the first time in a long time felt clumsy. His body was flexible, easy to control, normally at least. That was his biggest advantage, what his whole fighting style was based on. Now he was slow, heavy, ponderous.


    He could still follow the movements of the two melee fighters as they charged him. He thought, he thought fast, he thought for the first time in a long time. He never thought in combat. This time he had to plan, to come up with a way to survive. He didn''t know how many more deaths the trial could take if it was already running out of gas.


    He timed his move well, getting his blades up in a cross over his head just in time to be pushed back and down instead of being cut in half.


    He landed on his back, then started to roll sideways immediately, his instincts from many battles saving him just before a crossbow bolt would have skewered him through the gut. He hadn''t forgotten about the assassin.


    He didn''t abort his roll as the swordsmen kept after him. He decided to emulate some of the old martial artists he''d seen in movies back on earth and keep on fighting from the ground, evading them in a comic way he hoped would frustrate them.


    The numbers favoured them though. He paid too much attention to the swords, a sudden kick to the gut reminding him of why that was a terrible idea. He only allowed the pain to distract him for a moment, as used as he was to far worse.


    Still, the moment was enough for the second swordsman to launch his foot too, crunching his nose and sending his neck so far back it was a miracle it wasn''t broken immediately. He was stunned. He couldn''t have been out for more than a few moments, though, because he hadn''t been killed yet.


    He found a foot planted firmly on his chest, probably to belay his flailing like an uncatchable fish. The man had his sword held in both hands, tip aimed toward Rafe''s hands, getting ready to thrust downwards. Then he stumbled a little. Rafe felt the weakness, the lethargy leave his body.


    Before they were back in top form, he was already cutting upwards, cutting into one man''s calf. As he screamed and fell away, Rafe rolled until he was sure he had enough distance to survey the field. The second swordsman was already trying to run, seeing as things had changed. As if Rafe could let him. It wasn''t a conventional technique, but Rafe had been practicing a sword-throwing technique as a kind of last-ditch long-range move if he didn''t develop such a concept ability.


    And the short swords he was holding were almost daggers. He took the man right in the area he''d expect the kidney, and the man stumbled and fell. He was still alive, and magic made people harder to kill. He got up and tried to keep running but he wasn''t fast enough to escape Rafe. The screaming man suddenly quieted, and Rafe turned to face the new arrival, the spear wielder he''d once known. She hadn''t changed as much as he would have expected her to in thirty years, but then, magic.


    ¡°...Celene,¡± he breathed.

 Chapter 23. The Shadows Have Eyes

    Rafe had not seen Celene in a long time, at least on his end. It turned out something weird had happened, but he stopped questioning it the moment he had confirmation.


    ¡°How long''s it been since I killed all those people that one night?¡± he asked Cynthia.


    She frowned, and Celene did as well. He had called out her name, but then he''d said nothing else as he waited for the others to arrive. Then he''d spoken to Cynthia even though Celene had been there too.


    ¡°A little over five years,¡± Cynthia replied, the others joining them quietly.


    Rafe did not let himself frown. He just looked up to the sky, closed his eyes, and breathed heavily.


    ¡°What, how can that surprise you? Did you have no idea how long you''ve been traveling? What did that Noid fella do? Where is that ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Doesn''t matter,¡± he interrupted her tirade. ¡°All that matters now is that Annie and Sylpha are in trouble. Tell me what you know.¡±


    ¡°Jonathan and Kayle left Hossford three days ago to storm the capital,¡± Cynthia said.


    ¡°Maria went with them too, and her sister, and my master, and a couple of the more experienced mercenaries,¡± Celene said, continuing for her. ¡°The village was evacuated, everyone and their families put up in reputable inns in Hossford city, spread out enough to make it hard to pick them off if it came to that.¡±


    Rafe looked at her with what he hoped was an obvious question in his eyes.


    ¡°She received a letter inviting her to my home in the merchant district,¡± Jasmine stated. ¡°Same with Cynthia. Don''t know how we got close enough to be inviting each other to our homes without notice, but here we are. It was an obvious trap. The Ellans had waited for the guild master and his friend to leave the city before they made a move on us.¡±


    Rafe nodded, allowed himself to process all the information given, then turned to face the road he''d been following. He addressed Cynthia.


    ¡°I don''t know the road to Grayward City. I''ve made do with following caravans and the like for a while, but I need a better guide if I''m to make good time.¡±


    ¡°Sure, we''ll go with you,¡± it was Celene who offered.


    Rafe battled his instinct to reject her offer. If anything, it was safer for her at his side. He nodded and started to trudge off.


    ¡°Do you have a horse?¡± Cynthia asked, eyeing some of the surviving raptors that were edging into the woods and further away.


    ¡°Don''t need one.¡±


    And he didn''t. When his stamina was almost depleted, when he felt his body was on the verge of breakdown, it somehow always found the energy to go on. It was almost like the lower his stamina got, the higher his stamina recovery was. He just might have a skill that turned him into some kind of endurance warrior if he could train it right. This was an opportunity.


    ¡°Let''s go. I''ll shadow you from the woods,¡± he said.


    ****


    Jonathan Wilde knew he was in trouble the moment the shadows had started to move. He wasn''t afraid for his own life, he was sure he could survive. His friends though, with the exception of Kayle.


    But none of them died. The knives were held to their throats, threats, but nothing more.


    ¡°If you lower your weapons and allow yourselves to be captured like good little boys, I''ll allow your companions to survive.¡±


    Jonathan wasn''t sure Kayle would comply, and he didn''t know if he should tackle the man or join him. These were his friends, but on the other hand, his daughters.


    There was nowhere to hide really, in this long stretch of underground tunnel. It was dark, like an underground entrance or escape route ought to be. Jonathan only knew about it from his time as the vice-captain of the House Ellan guard.


    ¡°I can see some of you still considering an attack. Be warned that by companions I mean everyone you brought to this city, not just those here. I cannot speak to those in Hossford, but the ones you''re hiding here, in my city, are under my power.¡±


    The knives moved a bit, enough to show her. The shadows were her home, her hands, her soldiers. The emerald adventurer known as the queen of shadows stepped into the light. Jonathan hesitated. To save his daughters but lose their mother. He lowered his sword, and to his surprise, Kayle lowered his spear.


    ¡°There. That wasn''t so difficult, now was it? I''m not interested in taking any of your blood. I just want the boy. Word is, he managed to not only survive the jade-rankers but chase them off like puppies with their tails between their legs. I''m sure he''ll be here anon.¡±


    And then she laughed, low, cutting, cruel. It was a fact that most shadow wielders were not right in the head.


    ****


    On a rise, a few leagues away from a body of reflective red, Rafael Kingsley shaded his eyes as he surveyed the city beside the lake. It was huge, forbidding, intimidating.


    The Royal castle was placed on a plot of land almost three times the size of the Wilde village, and it had a central spire so long it competed with some of the skyscrapers of his home planet. The nobles who''d built just around the keep weren''t to be outdone too although it was against the law for them to have houses bigger than the royal family''s.


    Still, around all that, a city had grown. Hossford city was maybe a tenth, a twentieth the size of this colossus. It had taken him weeks to explore the lower district of Hossford. It would take him years to explore a city this size, though he had seen a bigger one once, in a vision, a planet-sized city with buildings piercing the clouds and higher still.


    He did not have years to explore. He just needed to storm the noble district and destroy the Ellan family.


    ¡°Which castle is theirs?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I don''t know,¡± Cynthia answered. ¡°It''s one of the five nearest the central palace, that''s for sure, but beyond that¡­¡±


    ¡°Their guards!¡± Celene said, excited. ¡°Their guards used to dress in a sky blue tunic and brown breeches. They rarely used armour, but they should have breastplates and the like now that they expect an attack imminently. There is a crest, I think, a prancing pony or the like.¡±


    ¡°It''s a war horse,¡± Jasmine commented.


    They sounded like the same thing to Rafe. He nodded, hyping himself up to approach the damn city.


    ¡°Do you have a plan?¡± Rhea asked.


    Rafe looked at her, then shrugged. ¡°Charge in guns blazing.¡±


    Celene laughed awkwardly, misunderstanding his nonchalant answer. He only stared her down, not blinking in the slightest.


    ¡°While I don''t know what guns blazing means, surely you don''t intend to just charge in. We need a plan to enter the city, enter the castle, avoid notice until the last second. We have to¡ª¡±


    ¡°We?¡± Rafe questioned Cynthia with a raised brow.


    She stared at him, her eyes pinched in confusion.


    ¡°Do you¡­intend to go in alone?¡±


    ¡°Naturally.¡±


    ¡°But then, why did you have us escort you here?¡±


    ¡°I did not have you escort me here. I simply had you show me the way to the city. Did you think I''d force you to fight my battle?¡±


    ¡°You had no trouble forcing me to betray the guild before,¡± Cynthia responded quietly.


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    Rafe sighed. ¡°I know, and I''m sorry. I''m sorry for how I acted back then. I was¡­in a dark place, still am, to be honest. That''s why it has to be this way.¡±


    He looked her up and down, then surveyed the half-elf and elemenoid woman.


    ¡°In another life, we could have been friends. Maybe even a team.¡±


    ¡°And me? What about me, Guy? You''ve been avoiding me this whole trip and for ten years before that. I need closure. And you what, decide to sacrifice yourself in a bid to¡­¡±


    She seemed to be struggling for words. Rafe didn''t know what to do, he really didn''t. On the one hand, he still had a thing for Celene. On the other, now he knew exactly why Noid had done what he did when he did. If Rafe had decided to settle down with Celene all those years ago, he could see himself loving her, her fiery nature, her strong will, her red hair, her freckles.


    The way she''d confronted him that day, today. The way her face had heated up then and today. Her eyes were watery too, then and now. He would have been devastated if he had to leave her, and the trial. Still was, to be honest, but would he have been able to move forward with a heartbreak twice what he was feeling, let alone ten times?


    Not to mention, there might have been children involved. There was no denying it, this trial had irrevocably affected him, and it would continue to do so long after he''d left it. Noid had done his best to make sure it didn''t affect him too much, affect his future path. He wasn''t sure the god had succeeded.


    He walked to her, wrapped his arms around her. She was tiny compared to his current frame. He had grown taller than her, and even though he favoured a more slick build, was heavily muscled. She collapsed in his embrace. And there broke down.


    He stayed like that for minutes, letting her weep, letting his heart settle, and his body too. Whatever ability he had that let him move with almost zero stamina left his muscles feeling like wet noodles once he stopped.


    ¡°You''re not coming back, are you?¡± she asked, and the pang of de javu hit him so hard he took a step back and almost fell on his ass.


    She didn''t let him. Just like Su¡¯Arian, she jumped on him, kissed him deeply. Unlike the mountain woman though, Celene fell on her knees after and stayed there, crying. Her tears streaked down Rafe''s cheeks now. He looked at her. He backed away a step, turned around.


    ¡°My name, my real name, is Rafael Kingsley.¡±


    He stormed into the city.


    ****


    ¡°He comes,¡± the shadow queen said.


    Jonathan wondered how Guy would arrive. The woman had let her shadows communicate to her, but she didn''t seem inclined to move from her throne of shadows. Everything was shadow themed, it was disorienting. Whatever the woman had planned for Guy, it would happen here. And Maria was here too, and she was holding the kids and cowering in a corner of the cell.


    ¡°I dare say, this arena is big enough for whatever trap you have lain for the piece of scum boy, wise mistress,¡± that sniveling old bastard Duke said. ¡°But wouldn''t it be more prudent to have the children come out, so we can distract the boy at the very least.¡±


    ¡°Watch your tongue, little noble. I''m an emerald, a mythical existence. A mere child cannot hope to rival me. I shall not cower, I shall face him in direct combat and claim that which is awed me. I am the shadow monarch. I will not hide behind petty tricks.¡±


    Jonathan wanted to snort. She was a shadow wielder. All she knew to do was hide.


    ¡°Oh, what is this?¡±


    The shadow wielder shook her head, clicking her tongue in disappointment.


    ¡°Is he just charging in like a raging bull? He will be too injured by the time he gets here. Our legendary battle will not be legendary at all. Mr Wilde, I''m disappointed. Did you not teach your charge restraint? He cannot simply mow through the city like that unless he¡­ Oh, he is very evasive. And fast too. He''s trying to avoid engagement if he can avoid it. Still, doesn''t he know about the secret routes you tried to use to get here? Tsk, how disappointing.¡±


    Guy indeed didn''t know about the secret routes or any of that. Jonathan didn''t know why he''d expected the boy would know, but now that he remembered, Guy had been a very simplistic person.


    He wasn''t subtle, he wasn''t interested in a lot of things. He liked to ask about swords, techniques, maybe stories of epic battles. He''d never been interested in the nuances of managing a mercenary company, or in Jonathan''s secrets or whatever. He liked the kids well enough, and he always had a smile or a head pat for them, and he liked Celene, and he liked sparring. Ask him to cook though, and even though he had a knack for it, he''d grumble the whole night away. He hadn''t even taken camping gear to his first adventurer quest, as far as Jonathan had heard, and his party members had had to bring the gear on the rest of their expeditions.


    Yes, Guy would charge in head first. That was the kind of man he was. Jonathan hoped whatever Noid had taken Guy to accomplish had been enough. He was sure the boy was about to meet a true monster.


    ****


    Rafe only had eyes for the giant buildings in the distance. The neighborhood he was in was cramped, and he was hemmed in. The open-ended alley he was in was blocked off on both ends. Maybe it was a little too early, but this had been the plan all along anyway. He aimed for a small shed, perhaps a kennel leaning against the wall to his left, he jumped, and landing on it with only his toes launched himself skyward. He''d already withdrawn his twin blades and used them to get a grip on a wall. Even without using an insight, the knives broke through plaster. He was glad he wasn''t sent bouncing off.


    Without a hint of hesitation, he started to climb, watching his back all the while. He let go of one of the blades so he was hanging with only one hand and looking back with wide eyes. A crossbow bolt clanged off his former position. He cursed. He got a dagger from a hidden sheath and started to speed up. He looked regretfully at his abandoned blade, but more city guards were arriving by the second. When he''d gotten high enough. He used the dagger to hold all his weight. It bent, on the verge of cracking but he only needed a moment to swing himself. He vaulted into the air, aimed, and landed in a roll.


    He was up a second later and running. A group of guards had wised up to his plan and were waiting from a rooftop ahead. They expected him to stop, as the building ahead of them was on a higher level and should have acted as an obstacle. That was why Rafe had planned on using the rooftops only when he''d reached deeper into the city where the roofs were higher. It wasn''t impossible though, just a little harder. And what was hard? He was Rafael fucking Kingsley, a Wilde mercenary at least in his heart. He would not lose.


    He launched himself three metres before he would have crashed into the human wall. A little behind his comrades, a crossbowman shot a bolt at him from close range. He couldn''t dodge it. He could only grab it, a few inches from his throat, slowing it down and moving his neck just a little out of the way. He did not let it go though. With all its momentum, it spun him around in the air as he grappled to redirect it to the wall he was aiming for. With a twang, it landed on the wall with both his hands holding on.


    ¡°Hughes, burn him!¡±


    Rafe grabbed another dagger and was already starting the climb again, evading crossbow bolts like no one''s business.


    ¡°But sir, using such spells in the city is¡ª¡±


    ¡°Burn him, soldier! We cannot let the menace get past us. Use every spell. Mages, bring that freak down!¡±


    Why hadn''t he just paid the toll and waited in line like everyone else? He kind of regretted his decision to bolt into the open gate the way he had, but only a little. For this moment, as the biggest fireball he''d ever seen huddled toward his position very close to the top of the wall where he was getting ready to vault upwards, Rafe forgot all the troubles in his mind. All that mattered was surviving in the moment.


    He swung himself, the fireball neared, he watched it. He moved through the air, slowly, so very slowly. It hit, an explosion rocked the city, debris flew.


    He had this image in his mind, of walking on the debris, using its upward momentum to keep him stable as he moved from one flying rock to the next. He''d done something very similar a long time ago when he''d fought a hobgoblin. But that had mostly been his desperation, him trying his best to evade them. Now, he hoped he would be more skilled when he did it, graceful.


    The explosion sent him flying further than he''d intended though. He flailed as he tried to right himself in the air. He landed with all the grace of a falling truck, stressing the already weak roof. He fell through.


    There were people in bed, scrambling and shouting and trying to cover their nudity. It was just the middle of the day, Rafe couldn''t help but think as he got to his feet, trying to test the integrity of his body. He had probably fractured something, he thought. The pain was nothing. He could still go against a whole city.


    He ran towards the door but it burst open before he reached it. Without pausing, he grabbed an oil lamp on a bedstand as he ran by, and rammed it straight onto a guard''s head. He kicked him back to increase the momentum, and the guard bowled into his fellows behind him. He jumped, using the fallen guards as his carpet as he aimed for the stairs to the roof.


    And then he was running again. Only now the guards were getting more desperate, trying to use magic to stop his rampage. The guards deeper in the city had been signaled already and were waiting for him. He was out in the open, and he didn''t intend it to be any other way. Today the House of Ellan would fall, and the whole capital would watch.


    The city was quiet now since the bells had tolled an emergency when he first entered. Most people had taken refuge in their homes, and a few who were still out and about rushed to escape once the guards came storming down their streets. Off-duty guards put on their uniforms in a rush, and the adventurer''s guild roused their best. A few of the jades had returned, but when they had the description of the terrorist, they escaped back into the guild hall and wished the golds good luck.


    Rafe watched as the sun began to set. He''d run through the city for hours, leaving ruins of buildings and broken bodies in his wake. He hoped no one had died, but he wasn''t too broken up about that. The towers were close now, maybe a few minutes away. He was exhausted, and he wouldn''t be able to swing his sword with any proficiency just then. Not that he needed long to get back in form.


    He stopped running, let himself catch his breath as he waited for the persistent worms to catch up. He bent over, hands on knees, muscles shaking, quivering.


    ¡°Young man, you are under arrest on account of attempted terrorism. You ruined a whole bunch of buildings, destroyed a whole quarter of the market, and caused general unrest for most of a day. Not to mention injuring several city guardsmen. Do you hav¡ª¡±


    ¡°I just wanted to test a new skill,¡± Rafe said with the most straight face.


    ¡°Really?¡± someone in a different getup, probably an adventurer, said. ¡°Me and the boys had a running bet it was just a new skill gone to your head. No one can be mad enough to¡ª¡±


    ¡°No, not really. Which of these belongs to house Ellan?¡±


    He knew what they thought when they exchanged glances. They had numbers, overwhelming numbers. He couldn''t hope to escape them. And they were surrounding him.


    The guard captain, or at least the highest-ranked one here shrugged.


    ¡°Not that it will do you any good, but it''s that one on the South. They are even flying their banner today. I wonder why that is?¡± he said with a smirk.


    Rafe did not wonder. He knew. They knew. The higher-ups among the guards had probably been bribed to keep him occupied. They knew nothing. Nothing could stop him. Not even a decidedly impressive prancing pony.


    They had him encircled, thought him exhausted. They were also trying to catch their breaths but he was one, they were legion. Oh, how wrong they were. He charged in the indicated direction, and he swam through the press of bodies like a fish swimming through water. They were too shocked, all their blows missing him and instead tripping up a comrade. Just like that, he was past the encirclement. He had tried not to waste the lives of the city guards.


    The guards of house Ellan though, the ones who were more armoured than even Celene had thought, standing there armed to the teeth, barring his way. These he would reap.

 Chapter 24. The End Approaches For All

    ¡°Mr Wilde,¡± an official-looking man at the front started, ¡°you are expected in the arena. If you would be so kind as to unarm yourself¡ª¡±


    Rafe concluded the man was an idiot there and then. Despite his gold-encrusted armour, he believed the man would be no threat. Instead he let his aura senses go wild, trying to get a sense of what he was facing. He still needed to rest his overworked lower body muscles. His stamina wasn''t even a tenth of what it could be, but time wasn''t his ally. Still, he could buy a bit more time if that.


    ¡°You want me to come without my weapons?¡± he started.


    He tensed a moment but hid it well, trying to act casual. There were at least two sword masters hidden within the guards, and at least one grandmage if he''d learnt to read those well enough during his stay in Shariah.


    To kill a sword master. Two even. This was going to be a glorious day. One that will be remembered in the kingdom of Grayward. Weapon masters were rare after all.


    ¡°It is only polite,¡± the guard in charge spoke again.


    ¡°Only polite? Is it polite to bar my way with weapons raised like this?¡±


    ¡°A precaution,¡± the guard ventured.


    ¡°Will they drop their weapons if I drop mine?¡±


    ¡°We''ll have to see, won''t we?¡±


    ¡°I see. Luckily, I have no plans to cooperate then, isn''t it?¡±


    ¡°Indeed? May I ask, young man, what your intention is for coming to our home in this manner?¡±


    ¡°You''re going to pretend you don''t know? Well, then so will I. I only came here to destroy house Ellan, nothing more, nothing less.¡±


    ¡°A Wilde indeed. Aren''t you friends with that good-for-nothing one? Noid was it? The horror. Abandoning his house, changing his name to such an unculture¡ª¡±


    ¡°Huh? That''s weird. Are you a noble too?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± the man said, outraged. ¡°I am Theophili¡ª¡±


    ¡°Robert Downey Junior the third! No one gives a shit!¡±


    And then he attacked, right as the city guards were about to catch up. He wasn''t too scared of the grand mage unless the man turned out to be a debuffer like the last mage he''d faced. That was a weakness he hadn''t known he had, but then again, not many people would have anticipated that.


    He charged direct at the still-blubbering man, elbowing him in his armoured gut with a heavy blow before the man could react. He did not allow him to fall, instead using him as a human shield to barrel towards the front lines of the guards.


    One crossbowman still tried his luck and Rafe pushed the golden warrior into its path. The man cried like a pig but Rafe was close enough by then, and he just threw the man into his fellows. It was good, feeling even his meager strength stat impacting a battle.


    Then he was among them, holding a blade in one hand and his sword in the other. It was a bit uncomfortable holding his long-hilted sword one-handed, but he could manage. For his first act, he disappeared into the crowd so he could face off against the masters. The rest of the guards would just die from the reverberations of those battles, he had no doubt.


    When the golden guard barrelled into the front lines, Rafe accelerated. He crouched lower than he ever had before, and dived in among their feet, cutting calves and heels as he danced among them with his rubbery body. They shouted, some saying he was here, others there, and everywhere.


    ¡°He is on the ground!¡± a commanding voice declared. ¡°Stomp him out like the rat he is.¡±


    Not a rat, and not exactly on the ground. Just very near it, and using every ounce of his speed to fleet about like a bunny.


    ¡°Earth mages!¡± someone else yelled.


    Rafe watched, waiting until he saw a man go down on all fours to start manipulating the earth. Not that he''d let him. His second twin blade flew and he didn''t even wait to see it land before he was turning and swinging with all his might to intercept. Somehow, his sword wasn''t cut to pieces. He was pushed back into a scrum of bodies, not able to get away as fast as he had been doing before. Still, his momentum had set the guards sprawling as well.


    He jumped out of the scram just as the master''s blade reappeared, cutting through armoured men like they wore clothes of paper.


    ¡°Hmmm? Don''t recognize your accomplices, master?¡± he asked mockingly, trying to buy time.


    The man was already on him, faster than most would have been. An experienced combatant, his hair was all white and shorn down so short, he would have passed for a military man. He had a bit of white stubble, but otherwise, no beard to speak of.


    ¡°A sharp sword you got there?¡± Rafe continued, trying to banter.


    He didn''t do that kind of thing often, but Rafe had to keep the other sword master in check. Not to mention the grand mage. It was obvious by now they had no scruple in killing the average guards. The guards had also noticed and opted to give the fight a wide berth.


    ¡°Shit!¡± someone cursed. ¡°He knows, Dain.¡±


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    ¡°You idiot, just follow the plan!¡± the sword master attacking Rafe yelled.


    Someone jumped into the impromptu ring created by the retreating guards.


    ¡°Can''t. His eyes are following me everywhere I go, like a hawk.¡±


    The old man just snorted, turning away from his comrade.


    ¡°It''s true that I knew there were two of you, and also that there is a third. Why don''t you come out too, try to make this more of a challenge?¡±


    Silence for a bit, two.


    ¡°I think not,¡± the sound seemed to come from the whole compound, loud, procellus.


    Rafe sighed. A sound mage. And just when he''d started to think this banter thing during combat wouldn''t be too bad. Why were all these rare breeds of combatants coming out of the woodwork now? Well, it was the final challenge of the trial, so maybe it was fitting. Rafe wondered who the final boss would be. He could hardly wait.


    ¡°So Dain, aye? Is it a bad time to tell you I learnt the Promise from one of your students? How is Master Aeron, by the way?¡±


    The man growled and charged. Rafe blocked and was forced back.


    ¡°What, no talk? Okay fine.¡±


    He crouched low, looking at his opponents who were angled ninety degrees from each other. He''d already seen Dain increase the sharpness of his blade to unpropotinal levels, but that was just an insight. The man hadn''t even been using the Demon God''s Promise he was famous for. He was trying to make light of Rafe. And Rafe would now have the honour of teaching him the error of his ways.


    He aimed his sword forward and was next to him before Master Dain was ready. Ten slashes in a second later, and Master Dain was the one backtracking this time. Only, his robe had been cut in five different places, and there was a hint of red on one particularly long diagonal cut from left shoulder to right hip. The other master was already on top of him, a sword barrage of his own ready to cut Rafe in half. He flew over it with his movement technique, but then he felt something familiar in the air.


    He swung his sword very fast, trying to parry all the insights into sharpness and iron that had followed him into the sky.


    He had a half dozen cuts on him by the time he landed gracelessly and bounced off the cobblestoned ground. And then someone sounded a gong right next to his ears. No, not next to his ears, his ear drums. They burst.


    It was the simplest sound spell, just to damage his hearing and balance. The grand mage hadn''t bothered with wave attacks to whittle him down, or a sound prison, or a siren call ¡ªsomething he thought sounded similar to a debuff skill. He had just hit him with crippling sound, a most basic spell. Now Rafe couldn''t hear anything even as he stood - stumbled to his feet, more like - like a drunk.


    Still, Rafe looked up at the smug sword master. Dain stood next to his fellow, his dagger now unsheathed in a traditional stance of the Promise. The mage had also joined them now, ditching the guard uniform he''d been wearing to stand with his fellows, a look of boredom on his wisened face. Rafe¡¯s head couldn''t stay in one position, but he tried to focus on them.


    ¡°A sword domain?¡±


    He couldn''t hear himself speak, but he knew he''d spoken. The master grinned wider.


    ¡°A sword¡­domain. A sword domain. A SWORD DOMAIN!¡±


    He had well and truly worked himself up by the end there, but he couldn''t hear his voice anymore. Still, a decision had been made. He didn''t like to kill, but sometimes there was no choice. Sometimes people stole. Sometimes people crossed lines.


    ¡°DIE!¡±


    He was there among them before they could react, all three of them springing away to form a circle and pen him in. Too bad only one of them mattered just then. That smug-faced bastard who''d dared touch something that wasn''t his. He attacked like a demon possessed.


    And the man''s smirk started to morph into a frown. He opened his mouth and yelled something but Rafe couldn''t hear it. With a basic diagonal slash from the Northern Wind dance style, he had the man backtracking, a large cut on his belly. The mage came from behind, carried on a wave. Rafe snarled and swung, his sword reaching the man amid a pulse of confusing undulations. It exploded, his sword did, shrapnel flying everywhere.


    Maybe the mage thought he''d be more devastated by the loss of his weapon, and maybe he was right. Only, he had other weapons on hand just then. For example, he had a few daggers, and one was withdrawn too fast for the damn mage to react and took him in the gut. The blade exploded, only exacerbating the wound the mage had obtained.


    Rafe turned just in time to block an ambush slash from Dain. It sent him flying. Flying toward the master he wanted. He didn''t need a sword to destroy this fucker. He was in his stance in a moment, already swinging but the master had enough time to activate his sword domain. From such close range, it cut into him too, and he was bleeding as much as Rafe was. Dain too had been following Rafe and didn''t walk off scot-free.


    Rafe dived at him, his body only a moment from failing. The dagger he aimed at the master''s throat was broken. Rafe looked at it in confusion as the blade failed to penetrate the aura and insight-imbued skin. When had it been broken? When had it grown dull? A drop of blood collected towards the blade end of the break, flowing slowly over the master''s neck and down his body.


    Something hit his neck then, something sharp and cold. He felt his head go higher and higher as his neck was cut cleanly through. He hadn''t been able to defeat a sword master, in the end. Rafael Kingsley died.


    It was only for a few moments though. One last time - Rafe knew instinctively - he experienced the miracle that was this trial.


    ¡°You bastard, you almost cut my head off!¡± he heard one of the masters complain.


    ¡°I have enough control over my blade not to do that. Can you say the same about your stupid sword domain? Look at me.¡±


    ¡°Hel¡­help me,¡± an old man''s voice wheezed. The grandmage.


    ¡°By the gods, Master Travis, what happened?¡±


    With a few moments to collect himself, Rafe realised just how irrationally he''d acted. Orlandir had a sword domain, sure, but it couldn''t have been a unique ability. He couldn''t have been the first in a world full of masters and grandmasters twice his age, maybe even higher-level warriors.


    He had gotten so angry at the reminder. The reminder of a friend he''d tried so much not to think about. The reminder of a friend buried somewhere in unclaimed lands, buried and abandoned there. Rafe would never see that grave again. A tear fell down his cheek. Only one.


    Then, as the masters fussed over the wounded mage, Rafe stood over them. Another dagger came from a hidden sheath. He took Dain first, stabbing down and into his head. The domain master looked up in confusion as Dain wheezed and started to convulse. His eyes opened in horror.


    Rafe didn''t rush. He took his time to disarm Dain, and still, the crouching man made no move. Rafe gave him no more time, pointing his blade and appearing next to him, his sword deep in the man''s gut.


    The grand mage looked up in horror. He died with a slit throat, but not before filthying his cherished robes.


    Rafe looked around at the circle of guards. He must have made for quite a site. They were quiet, watching him with confusion and horror. This was the first time someone had seen him die and resurrect. Or at least it was the first time those people would survive.


    Someone at the front pointed behind him, towards the left of the multi-keep palace. There were gates within the gate, paths leading to and from different towers.


    Rafe looked where the man pointed, tilting his head in confusion.


    ¡°T-the arena, s-sir.¡±


    Rafe nodded and said nothing more. As he moved in the indicated direction, the shadows in the path started to move, to change shape. One grew into a clear arrow, pointing forward, showing him the way.


    ¡°T-t-the arena, s-s-s-sir.¡± the voice said.


    It was mocking, playful, sounding almost like quiet laughter. It was also familiar, though he couldn''t quite believe it. Talking shadows, moving shadows, emerald rank assassin. Rafe couldn''t help but hope. It was futile, but it would be so cool. He didn''t pay attention to the path, only following the shadow arrows to a region of densest shadow just ahead. A grand gate opened.


    The first thing he noticed was the cells almost opposite the entrance he''d entered through. He saw Jonathan, Maria, the girls, a few senior mercenaries he remembered, and Kayle from the adventurer''s guild.


    But then the shadows pulsed, thickening, threatening to form a dome that would bar the rest of the world. He stared at the woman cloaked in her shadows, and he laughed. Why wouldn''t he? This was a truly ridiculous last boss. A fitting end to a trial that would perhaps define the rest of his life.

 Chapter 25. A Dance In The Shadows

    ¡°Why are you grinning, idiot? Don''t you know you are doomed?¡±


    ¡°I''m not grinning, you are,¡± Rafe fired back, rather maturely, he thought.


    The queen tilted her head, her shadow throne visibly pulsating like a living thing.


    ¡°Try again,¡± she said in a low voice.


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Rafe scratched the back of his head. ¡°...I''m not an idiot, you are,¡± he said, his tone inquisitive.


    The queen looked him up and down, her mouth starting to curl up. She threw her head back in a sudden movement that had Rafe tensing, but all she did was laugh, laugh. And laugh.


    ¡°How interesting? I thought you''d be stiff like dear old daddy there. Tell me, boy, do you like to die? Do you like the pain? The cold that seeps into your bones, your soul?¡±


    Rafe was a little slow in answering, thinking back to all his deaths and how much she knew about the feeling.


    ¡°No¡­it''s not the best feeling.¡±


    ¡°And yet you''ve managed to do it more than a hundred times in my trial.¡±


    ¡°Your trial? This is Noid''s trial.¡±


    ¡°Bah, Noid''s trial, Liam''s trial. They are all my trials. I mean we are Skyholm. We are like family, we share everything.¡±


    ¡°Cool. So when do we get to fight?¡±


    ¡°How many more deaths you got in the tank?¡±


    ¡°I dunno, mostly I think none, but it is your family''s trial so¡­¡±


    ¡°Do you know what happens if you die and you have no resurrections left?¡±


    Rafe stopped to think for a moment, not entirely sure where this was going.


    ¡°I¡­don''t.¡±


    The queen rose from her throne, and the shadows dissolved into the ground. She shrugged, the picture of nonchalance.


    ¡°Well, neither do I. Enith will want to see the limits of this trial though, so I can''t hold back any more than I already am, okay.¡±


    Rafe took a stance, crouching to keep his enemy in sight. The shadows quieted, the room quieted. The shadows fell, the queen seemingly letting go of them. Rafe watched them seep into the ground, his own shadow too.


    He stared at her. The woman grinned. Then she melted into the ground as well.


    Rafe launched skyward, and that was probably all that saved him from her first ambush. She''d done it on purpose, warning him about his shadow. He landed a fair distance away.


    ¡°It won''t be that easy, huh?¡±


    ¡°Are you trying to play into my new favorite hobby of combat banter, perchance?¡±


    ¡°Nah. I''m just trying to teach you a lesson. You only banter when you''re the overwhelmingly powerful individual.¡±


    And the shadows rose, holding knives, slashing in the same direction. In his direction, they were slashing in his direction. Rafe scoffed, seeing how uncoordinated they were even though they were myriad. It was certainly impressive, but not dangerous.


    A sword barrage had him deflecting all the weak attacks. A sense of foreboding took him a minute before he would have been skewered, and he turned just in time to avoid a stronger better-controlled stab from the real queen.


    Only, two more such stab attempts occurred simultaneously, and he only avoided one of those. An attack took him through the ribs, puncturing a lung.


    He cried out in pain as he bounded away, trying to keep the dagger in to prevent further complications.


    ¡°Overwhelmingly powerful,¡± the queen said as she paused her attack to smile at him.


    ¡°You already had two shadow clones at level one hundred?¡±


    ¡°I had my shadow clones early, which is why I rarely used them when I ventured into the universe. They were¡­the old clothes you can still wear but you''d rather not if you can help it. It was always a surprise when I whipped them out.¡±


    ¡°But you''re an emerald rank. You''re not supposed to use concepts.¡±


    ¡°Hey, I didn''t figure you for a whiner. What is it, afraid you can''t win? If so, I understand. I am a badass, after all.¡±


    ¡°So you''re using concepts?¡±


    ¡°Of course not. I can and am using peak insights though. For instance¡­¡±


    She lifted a hand and made a come hither motion, and the dagger in Rafe''s lung burst out with a gush of blood.


    ¡°...shit¡­¡± Rafe managed to get out through gritted teeth even as he tried to staunch the bleeding with his hands.


    ¡°That''s what you can do with an insight into possession. I see something, I want it, so I snatch it. Good old purse snatching, just a little easier.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I see,¡± Rafe said with a nod, trying to keep the pain from his face. ¡°Can you tell me more about your insights?¡±


    He needed to staunch his bleeding somehow. Sure, the pain was debilitating, but he''d fought with worse. One lung could work just as well as two.


    ¡°Yeah, that time you felt a hint of danger? That was all me. It''s an insight I cultivated to draw attention away from myself. Oh, and also¡­¡±


    He wasn''t listening. He was busy covertly trying to heat his sword with one of the torches. With the sun getting ever lower, the queen had probably ordered the arena to be lit so she''d have shadows to play with. Rafe was benefiting from her generosity and her verbosity.


    He put the red hot blade on the side of his chest, it steamed and hissed, the queen noticed.


    ¡°Hey, did you just trick me into talking my head off so you could make some emergency repairs?¡±


    ¡°You do love the sound of your voice,¡± Rafe said with a shrug.


    She laughed again. She seemed to always have a laugh handy.


    ¡°I like you, kid. If we still had the mantle, I''d vote you take it. As it stands, I can only hope you make it on your own. I''ll welcome you with open arms, as a Skyholm.¡±


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    Rafe frowned when he heard that. To become a Skyholm. To join this, self-proclaimed, legendary pantheon. He hadn''t considered it. After all, there were hundreds of millions of people going through these trials across the multiverse, at least according to Noid, and yet only one could become the next Skyholm. Could he do it? Maybe. At least the queen seemed to think he could.


    He shook his head firmly, saving those thoughts for later. Right then he had a god to fight.


    She saw him get ready, waited, watched.


    Once he charged, she seeped into the floor. Rafe''s sword clanged off dirt and rock. He swung blindly, turning around with wide, frantic eyes. She was nowhere to be seen.


    He didn''t let his guard down, didn''t stop trying to find her. His breaths were more painful than helpful in the moment, but he couldn''t not breathe. That would be stupid.


    She burst out of the ground with an explosion of shadow, once more showing off that overwhelming power she''d talked about. Rafe wondered how she''d ever been considered a low-level adventurer only good for her storage skill. She didn''t need a concept to kill the masters of this world, perhaps even survive a grand master.


    The shadows fell on him, and he was still trying to frantically search for his opponent. The shadows cut him. They were shallow like paper cuts, but they would add up. She was the monarch of the shadow verse, even before she''d completed the risky metamorphosis that would make her a universal powerhouse. Rafe had forgotten that for a second. Forgotten who he was fighting against. And now he was bleeding because of it.


    ¡°You will die!¡± a charging shadow queen yelled as she fell on him from above.


    With a diagonal slash imbued with his suspected heavy blow skill at the last second, he cut the shadow clone in twain.


    He cut the shadows around him too. He would have felt he was doing a better job if he had access to insights, but oh well.


    ¡°Hmm. Your cuts are pretty sharp for someone without insights, and with very limited information on their skills.¡±


    ¡°Thanks. I practice. A lot.¡±


    ¡°Tch, don''t get too cocky, brat. I''m still winning this duel.¡±


    His old strategy wasn''t working. He couldn''t cut her down as easily as he hoped. Cutting shadows was useless. It was like cutting water, nothing but a source of frustration. The queen was toying with him.


    He needed to get out of his trance, to think.


    ¡°I guess having no information on your passives could create such problems. The skill is controlling you, instead of the other way around.¡±


    Rafe didn''t answer. He fought his brain, forcing it into coming up with a plan on the fly. He always processed information fast, courtesy of a high coordination stat, but he never really actively planned during combat. He never had the time. He preferred to go in fast. Today was different. He was chasing his own shadow. He took a breath and took a step back. He studied all the information he had on hand.


    Shadows, nightfall, lightly obscured moon. Force her out, or at least reduce the sharpness of her shadows. He weighed his options, all the while swinging at nothing. He bled from a thousand tiny wounds. Wounds the queen had delivered almost as little jokes, to annoy him. The shadows were starting to chuckle at his flailing.


    He didn''t let it bother him. He took another breath and slowed down. That was the use of his coordination, wasn''t it, to experience time slower? He hadn''t focused on it as much as his speed, and maybe that had been a mistake. Having high speed and low coordination was a recipe for disaster, for poor control.


    Rafe needed to more consciously use his second highest stat, or at least more efficiently. He did use it to react to last-minute changes in the field on most occasions, to make sure he wasn''t surprised mid combat. It was perhaps what made him so hard to hit. But he hadn''t used it to its full potential yet, to always keep the battlefield in control. To coordinate the battlefield, so to speak.


    He sped up, aiming for a bracket set in a wall. He cut it up before the shadows could react. Was it just his imagination, or was he going just a bit faster? Fast enough that an agility-focused assassin was just barely keeping up with him.


    ¡°What are you doing?!¡± she cried. ¡°Fight me head-on, you coward!¡±


    Rafe wanted to snort. He had already cut down ten torches and he was already aiming for more. He thrust his sword, his movement technique helping him clear ten feet in a moment. He raised his sword and lowered it in as strong a swing as he could manage. His sword clanged off a knife that came out of the shadows.


    The shadow queen had chosen to nip his plan in the bud. He didn''t know how he knew, but he was sure it was her. She''d come to him personally.


    Fast as thought, his sword came up and down, a last-minute heavy blow infusion overpowering the queen''s defense. Her eyes widened. He''d surprised her. Her hand was forced back with an audible snap, and the sword continued downward, cleaving through her shoulder. Blood spurted out even as he continued his cut. He had won. For a moment, he believed he had won. Then his slash lost all resistance, passing through the woman as easily as it would have passed through air.


    She appeared a ways away, breathing hard. He stared down at the shadow clone he''d just cleaved in two. No, the shadow clone that had taken her place at the last moment. Just when his sword had almost reached her heart. She could switch places with her clones. Just what the doctor ordered.


    ¡°Are you despairing yet?¡± she quizzed as shadows wrapped her damaged shoulder up.


    She had a rogue class, focused on agility, but she was also very dependent on magic. That meant she had to funnel most of her energies into three different stats. Her strength was still higher than his, and maybe all her other stats too. But still, her strength was much lower than her agility, as was her endurance and vitality. And with having to focus her energy distribution on three stats, they also weren''t as through the roof as they should be for someone past level one hundred.


    Rafe breathed. He really could do this. He charged the still visibly recuperating woman. She reeled as she noticed his thrust coming. Then, in a very surprising turn of events, she fled.


    Rafe froze for a long moment, much longer than he ever had in a fight. He couldn''t believe it. Then he shrugged and let the surprise roll over his shoulder and down. Sure, he could believe it.


    He took a painful breath, pretended to lunge at her, and instead went after another torch. She came for him on the third torch again, and she escaped once he was focused on her. He didn''t even bat an eye as he aimed for a torch opposite where she was going.


    ¡°Oh, come on, it''s not fair for you to be actively growing as a fighter when you''re fighting me.¡±


    Rafe engaged her and her clone, fighting more defensively than he''d like but not taking any wounds.


    ¡°When else am I going to improve if not in such a high-stakes battle?¡±


    ¡°High stakes? You are immortal.¡±


    ¡°We both know that''s not something I can rely on at the moment.¡±


    ¡°Bah, we don''t know what will happen if you die, but how can it be worse than what you''ve already experienced a thousand times? I do have it on good authority that the death simulator in Noid''s trial is very realistic.¡±


    ¡°I''d rather not find out if that is true if I can help it.¡±


    ¡°Oww, you''re no fun.¡±


    She withdrew a bit. It was like she didn''t know the name of the game by now. With the barest of space, Rafe charged to the next torch and extinguished it. He had sputtering in the background as he moved on to the next one.


    ¡°Fine. Let''s end this if you''re so determined to die.¡±


    And then the shadows rose from around the arena, congregated on Rafe''s position, penning him and the torch in. The queen appeared, engaged him for a second, then disappeared back into her shadows. He didn''t get a moment before she attacked from behind. And then he was dealing with attacks from the whole shell of shadow.


    And they weren''t the uncoordinated knife work of the barely corporeal shadows he''d destroyed in the beginning. They were all shadow clones.


    ¡°You¡­aren''t limited to two?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°No, I''m not.¡±


    ¡°I see. Then it''s good you haven''t seen everything I can do too, isn''t it?¡±


    ¡°You don''t scare me¡ª¡±


    Rafe unsheathed his last dagger, took a familiar stance, and started to whirl. His balance was off, but he still managed to create his twister for a couple of seconds. Shadow clones were destroyed, and true blood poured over him, both his and hers. She had managed to get in a few cuts, but Rafe had destroyed numerous shadow clones, injured her critically, and cut the light from the torch off.


    Being in the darkness didn''t affect her a lot, according to his calculations, but it reduced the potency of the shadows. It made them harder to wield, to control. He had been right. He charged her, or where he assumed her main body was as it was covered in still bleeding wounds. She attempted to blend in with her shadows but by the time Rafe reached her, she was only two-thirds of the way gone.


    He was already stabbing with his dagger. He felt it penetrate her body before the resistance disappeared. He''d injured her again, and he was going to¡ª


    She stabbed him in the back, in the side, everywhere. He whirled and started cutting but she did not relent. She was screaming, shouting profanities. She was there in person with her blood clones, a bout of anger having taken her reasoning.


    Rafe felt like a leaking tank, but in her anger, she''d only stabbed nonessential parts of his body. Her? Well, she''d left herself open. Not something a fighter with her kind of build should be stupid enough to do, but her anger was in control.


    She collapsed to her knees, blood spouting from everywhere, even her mouth. She coughed and something solid and wet landed on Rafe''s cheeks as he aimed to help lay her down gently.


    ¡°I¡­lost? Huh!¡± she said, even as her breaths became more laboured. ¡°My name¡­is Xamanthia¡­.The others call me Sam¡­ I¡­will¡­I suppose I''ll see you in a bit, then, trial taker.¡±


    And then she was gone. Rafe had won, killed his opponent first, but there was no way he was surviving himself. Both his lungs were gone, and his gut, liver, kidneys were all critically injured. She''d even managed to open up his belly somehow, his intestines not looking intent to stay in their place unless he actively tried to hold them in.


    ¡°Ahh, shit¡­¡± Rafael Kingsley groaned as he bled out on the ground.

 Chapter 26. Rafael Kingsley Wilde

    They found him there, bleeding and broken, a step away from death. Jonathan did not bar the girls from him. He would have in any other situation.


    ¡°I must look like shit, huh,¡± Rafe said with forced levity.


    He tried to smile, but it only came off as a grimace. Maria grabbed at his guts, trying to force them back in.


    ¡°Bird! Bird! You must heal him, hurry!¡±


    Jonathan knelt next to his wife. The girls were white, looking at him in confusion. They knew what was happening, knew it was normal. They had just never experienced it before. They were confused. Rafe was too.


    He didn''t know what to do with himself. His hands were cold and couldn''t move anymore, only his mouth could. He could only speak, but he knew not what to say. This had never been a problem before. No one had ever cried for him. There had been no one to cry for him before. They were the first.


    ¡°My name¡­I remembered my name. It''s Rafael. Rafael Kingsley.¡±


    Jonathan was holding onto his sobbing wife, but he let go of her when he had Rafe speak. He crept closer to the boy''s head, cradling it. The girls decided to move closer too.


    ¡°No. You are mine. You are Rafael Kingsley Wilde, you got it?¡±


    Rafe grinned, or he tried to. He hoped it came out okay.


    ¡°Yes¡­sir,¡± he coughed. ¡°Can I¡­ask you to visit my friend''s grave? Orlandir, I buried him in¡ª¡±


    ¡°Yes, son. We''ll do it,¡± Maria leaned forward and grabbed his face, leaning her brow against his.


    ¡°I see ¡­thank you for everythi¡ª¡±


    A beam of light shot from the sky and shone straight on the family of five. It highlighted Rafe, healed him faster than was believable. It also made him shorter, smaller, softer. He lost his calluses, muscles, and height advantage.


    He was shining like a disco ball though, so there was that. Rafe found himself floating, leaving the others on the ground, not understanding what was happening.


    He saw what had been happening in the arena whilst he''d been occupied by his family. He saw the patriarch of house Ellan get his head chopped off. He saw the guards bend the knee, not daring to enter the arena, perhaps afraid he''d resurrect again. And maybe they had been right, because the light carried him up, made a spectacle of him.


    He was like the son of a god returning to their father''s side. The Wildes were standing directly under the light, looking up with stupefied faces. The whole city, the guards who''d chased him earlier in the day, the citizens who''d hidden from news of his entry, the adventurers, even the other nobles and royals watched him ascend from their keeps.


    He smiled down at the Wildes, grinned at them. Annie reacted first, jumping and hollering at the top of her lungs.


    ¡°That''s my boy!¡± Jonathan said, his hands capped over his mouth. ¡°That''s my boy!¡±


    Maria could only put her hand on her mouth and goggle at him, even more tears streaming from her eyes now. With one last fond look at the world below, Rafael Kingsley ascended, finishing a legacy trial. He was the first person to ever complete the fourth Skyholm''s simplistic yet grating trial.


    ****


    The feeling of weightlessness, of flight, lasted far longer than Rafe would have expected. He thought he saw a patch of shadows ascend with him, but he decided not to ask any questions.


    There was a singular figure standing in the emptiness he stepped through, watching him, waiting for him.


    ¡°Welcome, disciple. That sure was something back there, wasn''t it? I''d be interested in hearing your thoughts on¡ª¡±


    ¡°Why the fuck am I a kid again?!¡± Rafe demanded.


    The old version of his friend and mentor winced, scanning him up and down. He shrugged after a protracted moment of silence.


    ¡°Well, your mental projection did change a bit in there, didn''t it? Your body didn''t, I''m afraid to say, as it has experienced the real-time equivalent of one month since you entered the trial.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about? Mental projection? Body¡­what?!¡±


    ¡°Well I meant that your body didn''t get to enter the¡ª¡±


    ¡°I can understand that. What I don''t get is why. How? It felt so real.¡±


    ¡°It is a mental projection world therefore entering it with your real body is a bit¡­¡±


    He seemed to have nothing more to say. Rafe took a long breath, let it out. He didn''t need to breathe as he was just a mental projection. Plus there was no air to breathe since he was in the¡­huh?


    ¡°How is there air here?¡±


    ¡°Hmmm? Oh, this is a part of the void we managed to get under our control, and by we I mean the enchantress. You do remember one of her titles, colonist of the void?¡± Noid asked.


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°Well, the enchantress was a weird god. She didn''t have the easiest life growing up and only ascended to godhood because she had a dream. First off, she ascended much faster than anyone ever had before. In real-time, it took her less than twenty-five years of life to kill the Demon God and steal his mantle. That''s also when she got the mantle of Skyholm, although she wasn''t even yet a god at the time. In her world, she was considered to be about twenty-four at the time. Truly an amazing feat. Of course that was only in real time. She''d spent thousands of years, unbeknownst to many, climbing the tower to¡ª¡±


    He jolted from his bumbling, blinking around like a naughty child caught with his hand in a peanut butter jar.


    ¡°That is not our reason for meeting like this, disciple, so we best get to that I suppose. In conclusion, the enchantress didn''t want to outlive her mortal friends, so she discovered a way to harness the chaotic temporal energies of the void to spend thousands of years with only a few passing on the outside.¡±


    ¡°I¡­see.¡±


    Rafe glanced around too, seeing nothing. He shrugged and plowed on.


    ¡°Say, where is that body of mine?¡±


    ¡°You''ll get it back shortly. Fret not. Mine is to reward you for successfully completing the trial. You are the first ever to reach this stage in my particular trial, so that''s something.¡±


    ¡°The other trials have been completed before, then?¡±


    ¡°Oh, lots of times. Everyone always completes those things. It''s nothing special.¡±


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The void roiled around them, undulating, pulsating in ominous motions. Dark and mysterious, it wanted them to remember its presence, its looming ubiquity.


    Noid puffed his cheeks out like a petulant child.


    ¡°We are remnants of the greatest gods our universe saw before the multiverse, is it too much to expect a little maturity?¡±


    The void only rumbled louder, a little more pointedly.


    ¡°Fine,¡± Noid rolled his eyes. ¡°It isn''t about difficulty. It''s more about the whole dying thing.¡±


    Rafe looked at him in confusion.


    Noid shrugged. ¡°My trial starts with dangers stronger than my challengers, normally by a lot. The hotter the forge, the better the sword after all, provided the metal can survive the heat.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Rafe nodded at that, completely agreeing with his mentor.


    ¡°It is a given that my challengers have to die, especially early on in the challenge. Later on, when they''ve improved they should die a lot less even when fighting stronger opponents. The thing is, dying all those times¡­it kind of messes with the mind a bit.¡±


    ¡°Ahhh,¡± Rafe nodded in understanding.


    ¡°Besides, the other''s trials aren''t a hundred percent about death and dealing it. Take Enith for example. Genius that she is, she wasn''t exactly a fighter. She was a mage first and foremost, an enchantress. She thrives at a distance, even built her whole sword style around keeping her enemies at a distance. The others actually have a lot more options of what they can teach their challengers. Take the thief. You fought her, right? She was a rogue class. Assassins, thieves, shadow wielders, spies, even talisman specialists.


    ¡°Take Liam - that''s how we shortened Ah-Riam¡¯s name, by the way- he had seven aspects. Aspects would be specialisations in the system era, high-affinity classes. He was also a soul architect and that is not a small thing, not small at all. And then there is Master Granderel. Well, he didn''t fight over you since he''s not human, but space, he mastered the space affinity like no other. He was also born with it, but you get the picture. The system can give you skills depending on the people you interact with, train with. He takes the most advantage of this, being as his is a very specialised situation. And then Sendriel of the Sands. Mostly she works with beasts or their descendants, just helping them with their bloodlines and concepts and how to elevate even a truth forced upon them by their bloodlines.


    ¡°She was after all forced to pursue a truth of rebirth through flames, and yet managed to incorporate fate and make it the main aspect of her truth. Immortal fate. Immortality and fate.¡±


    ¡°So their trials are more diverse than yours? That didn''t explain anything.¡±


    ¡°Well, there is also the fact that mine is a little longer than most. I mean, in my defense, it took me decades to master swordplay. I am good at swords, no doubt about it. I cannot fathom a world where my trial takes only two years of subjective time. The others do that, but my bare minimum is five, and no one ever made it that far because of so many issues.¡±


    ¡°Like the dying?¡±


    ¡°The dying. The time dilation. Being separated from reality that long is dangerous at the best of times. You noticed, didn''t you? When I gave you back your memories?¡±


    Rafe''s eyes widened. ¡°The hallucinations. My family. The elemenoids from the dungeon.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well, not hallucinations.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°That was your mind trying to get back to reality, to its own time instead of this subjective reality and time. Prolonged stay in time dilation can make that state permanent, resulting in madness, brain death, catatonia. Only one person ever had the ability to withstand time dilation that long at a low level. Well, one person before now.¡±


    ¡°I somehow gained a skill to withstand time dilation, hence I was the first to spend almost four decades in a Skyholm trial of any kind?¡±


    ¡°That''s basically it. Here, allow me to unlock your status screen for you, will you?¡±


    The blue screen popped up in front of Rafe again.


    Name: Rafael Kingsley


    Race: Human lvl (N/A)


    Class: (N/A) lvl (N/A)


    Health: 150


    Stamina: 190


    Stats


    Strength: 19


    Agility: 49


    Coordination: 41


    Vitality: 15


    Intelligence: 15


    Endurance: 19


    Wisdom: 16


    Paranormal: ???  Skills: Steady footing (lvl. 307)You are fit, you always land on your feet. Upgradeable skill. Swordsman''s Footwork (lvl. 278)You are fleet of foot. All your moves are like a choreographed dance. Battle intent (aura skill) (lvl. 293)A veteran of many battles, blood cuddles the air around you, protecting you from the auras of others while oppressing those weaker than you. You are more sensitive to the aura of others. Control and strength of passive effects increases with an increase in skill level. Upgradeable skill(optional). Adamance of the blade (???????) (lvl. 3)Your willpower is sharp as a blade. Adverse effects of prolonged exposure to time dilation are slightly mitigated. The effect increases with an increase in willpower and an increase in skill level. That was interesting. Rafe hadn''t seen anything about willpower on his status screen, as far as he could remember.


    Ambidextrous (lvl. 120)Left-handed? Wrong! Right-handed, right? Wrong! You can use both of them, either of them. Efficiency increases with an increase in coordination. Efficacy of coordination increases with an increase in skill level.


    No upgradeable skill? Come to think of it, swordsman''s footwork didn''t have one as well.


    Quickdraw (lvl. 190)You draw your sword faster than light moves. Speed of draw increases with an increase in coordination. Efficacy of coordination increases with skill level.


    Two skills that scaled with coordination, his second-best stat, hmm? And he''d just been thinking of ways to improve his application of the stat.


    Parry (lvl. 207)A 10% chance to deflect magical attacks and a 50% chance to deflect all physical attacks. 90% chance to deflect attacks made with a sword. Chance of deflection increases with an increase in skill level. Upgradeable skill.


    Puppeteer''s Rubber body (uncommon) (lvl. 50)Passively increases your dexterity, and flexibility. Your body is easier to control, your movements easier to influence, your bones easier to bend. A small amount of reserved stamina is reserved during rest, enough fuel to keep moving for hours as long you don''t stop for more than two seconds. The amount of stamina reserved is reduced with increase in skill level.


    That explained why a bit of stamina had him moving a whole day, and why once he stopped that stamina had immediately dissipated, spent.


    Physical fitness (lvl. 73)There are myriad ways to increase your stats, and you''ve discovered one of them. Allows your muscles to more readily absorb essence to minutely boost your physical stats. Efficiency of absorption increases with an increase in skill level.


    Metallurgy (lvl. 120)You are a walking encyclopedia on the lore of metals in the multiverse. Upgradeable skill.


    Blacksmith (lvl. 57)You are competent with metal and fire. Heat resistance increases with skill level. Proficiency increases with skill level. Upgradeable skill(optional).


    ¡°Nice, this could double as a defense against fire magic in the future.¡±


    Noid only grunted, showing exactly how much that interested him.


    Heavy blow (lvl. 220)A 50% increase in the effect of strength at the point of impact when the skill is activated. Effect increases with increase in skill level.


    Survivalist (Rare) (lvl. 5)Nature is your ally, and in it, you can lie. The cold, the frost, the pests, the unrelenting heat, you can survive it all. Resistance to natural phenomena increases with an increase in skill level. Sensitivity to dangerous fluctuations in the wild increases with an increase in skill level. Upgradeable skill.


    Aeon Warrior''s trance (Epic) (lvl. 124)The world fades, and all you see is your enemy''s blade. Control increases with an increase in skill level.


    ¡°...shit!¡±


    ¡°Hey, I can answer your question before you can even think of it. Aeon was the name of my world.¡±


    ¡°No, fuck that. This skill is so highly leveled. I still can hardly control it!¡±


    Noid looked at him with a frown, then looked at the void around them. No reaction from the others. He shrugged.


    ¡°It''s the rarity. You''re too weak to control an epic skill, so it controls you sometimes. I''d suggest not leveling it too much.¡±


    ¡°Kind of hard to do when it''s mostly a passive skill.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that it is. Also, epic skills shouldn''t level above one hundred, just thought I''d let you know that.¡±


    ¡°What?! But I have skills without rarity tags past the two hundred?! That makes no sense.¡±


    ¡°You haven''t seen the worst of it,¡± he said ominously.


    ¡°The worst of¡­¡±


    Then he saw it.


    Aeon''s sword mastery (lvl. 761)The swordsmen of Aeon had four schools of swordplay. Few are those who could learn them all. Like your master before you, you can learn all four schools of swordplay, and so many more. Proficiency increases with an increase in skill level. Upgradeable skill(optional)


    Error! Skill has skipped multiple upgrade or evolution thresholds. Effects unknown.


    ¡°...so? Any questions?¡±

 Chapter 27. About Classes and Skills

    ¡°Am I going to die?¡± Rafe couldn''t help but ask.


    ¡°What? Of course not. You''re just a mental construct after all. We can probably bring you back to life.¡±


    ¡°I am going back to my body soon though, aren''t I?¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡±


    ¡°Noiiiidd,¡± Rafe growled, trying for menace


    ¡°Hey, don''t take that tone with me, I am a god you know.¡±


    ¡°Then act like one. Aren''t gods supposed to be all-knowing?¡±


    ¡°Well, I am not. I''d reckon even Enith doesn''t know this one.¡±


    The void rumbled, this time not in complaint.


    ¡°Great,¡± Rafe ground out.


    ¡°I can offer a bit of advice though.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°You can''t upgrade the skill just yet. You''re going to have to find a way to slow its leveling pace as much as possible. It is a basic skill, so it does level faster than most, and with your unusual circumstances¡­¡±


    ¡°My unusual circumstances?¡±


    Noid waved the question away. ¡°Suffice it to say it will be difficult getting the skill not to level, however, you must find a way. A good idea is to not hold a sword as much as possible until you''ve gained quite a few stats.¡±


    ¡°Not hold a sword? But my drills? And my hands?!¡±


    Noid was taken aback by the violence of the last exclamation.


    ¡°What is wrong with your hands?¡± he asked.


    ¡°They are too soft. They have no calluses. I wondered why I always lost my calluses whenever I died. Could it be, do you think I''m cursed not to have calluses, master?¡±


    Noid gave him a rather stern look, narrowing his eyes and pressing his lips into a thin line. The old face was going to take some getting used to.


    ¡°No, you are not cursed to not get calluses,¡± he said slowly, his impatience leaking a little. ¡°You could use a spear for a time, maybe train with a bow or something. You could use your smithing skills.¡±


    Then he sighed. ¡°Besides, maybe I misspoke. You should avoid using your sword in active combat. You can still do drills and I still wish for you to continue your sword journey as soon as you''re able to leave your home planet behind. There is a world out there that is so dedicated to swords, their world''s truth is a sword. The sword of Uther, a king among kings. They say he slayed a Dragon or a Krakenn or his sister who was a wit¡ª¡±


    ¡°You''re rambling.¡±


    Noid coughed.


    ¡°No I''m not! Anyway, you have to go there at some point. It will help with your concept.¡±


    There was a lot of information in all of Noid''s ramblings. He was going back to earth, Noid seemed sure, and he was likely to be stuck there a while. He could still do drills, and apparently, those would level the skill slowly enough that it wouldn''t hurt him.


    ¡°Why is it dangerous for me to level the skill further?¡±


    ¡°Because of the upgrade boy, the upgrade. Even in the best-case scenario, you''ll be getting at least a legendary skill. You can''t handle an epic skill yet. When will you be able to handle a legendary skill? It will cut your soul to shreds.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that reminds me, upgradeable skills? What are they?¡±


    ¡°Again with the questions?! Can''t you just be happy with the answers you do have?¡±


    ¡°And why does it say optional on some of them?¡±


    Noid sighed. ¡°Shit, let me teach you all about skills now, why don''t I? The system gives us skills, we give the system skills, do you understand?¡±


    ¡°Not even a little bit.¡±


    Noid inhaled slowly, deeply, let it out, inhaled again.


    ¡°Before the system, you had to learn skills the hard way, through hard work. Just like you earned most of your current skills. Of course, sometimes you''d get lucky, maybe get a skill orb or skill scroll from a dungeon drop. Don''t ask about those, by the way, one thing at a time. Very strong people could pass on their skills too, just like now with the system.


    ¡°The system makes learning skills easier. Once you select a basic class, you are eligible for three basic skills connected to the class, and you merely need to choose said skills. The class also makes it easier to learn all basic skills connected to it from say, skill scrolls or the like, or practice, although that''s rare. Then you evolve your class, say you go to a common class. You''ll be eligible for one common skill and two basic ones connected to that class. You get these skills for free. You evolve to uncommon, get one uncommon skill and one common for free, or one uncommon and three basic depending on whether you''d rather have more skills or stronger ones.¡±


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    Noid gave himself a few moments to catch his breath.


    ¡°Now, you may ask why the system hands away skills for free the way it does. Well, there is an implicit agreement in its assistance. The system gives you skills for free right up to the point you jump from an epic to an ancient class. It does not normally give out ancient skills. By the time most people are able to use ancient skills and higher, they''ve opened their spiritual sight, able to interact with their spirits and therefore affect their skills, maybe even create new skill structures if they are talented. These new skills you create? The system learns them. Simplifies them if they are too strong, then passes them on to the next generation.


    ¡°There is no such thing as a totally unique skill. Even your Adamance skill, we suspect, is based on the achievements of the enchantress. We have no idea why the system chose you of all people, but hey.¡± The god shrugged. ¡°The skill description never changed, you know, all the times the skill evolved. And that last time, it seemed it had jumped right past legendary rank.¡±


    ¡°Legendary is not the highest rank then?¡±


    Noid snorted. ¡°Not even close. It''s just the highest rank you are likely to see for a long time. Now all these explanations about how you get skills from classes are assuming you don''t skip rarities during your class evolutions. Depending on affinity, your starting class can go as high as rare, though no higher, then your second will be epic, and maybe you can keep the class rarity at epic for a few evolutions to keep gaining skills for free. That is useless to you, of course, because you will start with a basic class, work toward a common class, uncommon, then rare, then epic. Slow but steady you''ll go.¡±


    ¡°What?! That seems¡­ counterproductive. Don''t higher rarities provide more stats per level?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but we don''t want you to have too high stats in the beginning, for many reasons. One, you''re from an Essence Desert. There is going to be a cap somewhere, even with all the work we''ve done to get you ready for Essence and leveling. Besides, you don''t even need high stats in the beginning. Remember your fight with Sam? Remember what you told her? Why wouldn''t you sharpen your blade in the midst of a fight for your life? How will you progress if you overpower everyone, if you aren''t struggling? Your blade will become dull. No, I believe more stats at the beginning will be detrimental.¡±


    Noid handed something to him then. Something that looked a lot like paper, although even a mental projection could hold it.


    ¡°This is the list of class evolution paths I want you to follow.¡±


    Rafe read through it.


    ¡°Basic class: warrior, done. Common class: ideally a tank version, maybe a dodge tank because agility. Uncommon class: rogue, ideally an assassin related class. Rare class: A long-range warrior option, maybe an archer, a trap expert or the like. A hunter. With the Survivalist skill, it will be¡­¡±


    Rafe goggled at the list. At least they hadn''t suggested he try and learn magic. That would be stupid, and he wouldn''t do it. This was still stupid.


    ¡°What''s with these class suggestions? And no growth tag on the classes? What does that mean?¡±


    ¡°It means you are choosing classes that have no set evolution path, like those skills of yours, with the upgradeable skill tag. Upgradeable skills are either new and therefore have no recorded evolution path, or are so common they have millions of evolution paths. Upgradeable means the skill will only be upgraded depending on its user, the direction you wish to take it, or the direction you take it by accident.


    ¡°If its upgrade is optional, it means there is a conventional evolution path, but there are also enough variations the system feels it could be upgraded in another direction. And the system always wants to learn, so it will always encourage you to go for the rarer chances. Anyway, for classes, a growth-tagged class will grow naturally, changing its rarity and giving you new skills at the right thresholds. It would have been good, except it locks you on a specific path prematurely.¡±


    ¡°And I''m certain this is why I can''t level my sword skill, isn''t it? I mean, if I got an epic class as my second, wouldn''t that mean there is a chance a legendary skill won''t injure me?¡±


    ¡°A good point, but consider you just said there is a chance, not that it''s a certainty. Besides, after the rare range class, you''d be allowed to get back to the warrior chain of classes, so it''s not all bad. At least you don''t have to become a healer or a mage. I mean, I can see why she chose this route, and I wouldn''t have been surprised if she wanted to make sure you unlocked your mana early. It does happen sometimes, that a warrior class completely doesn''t get mana.¡±


    ¡°She? You didn''t make this training plan?¡±


    ¡°Enith did, and much as I hate to admit it, she''s more qualified to take advantage of the system than I am.¡±


    Rafe froze at that name, frowning slightly. Hadn''t Noid once told him the enchantress created the whole trial? Didn''t that mean she created, or recreated, Aeon? Noid''s home world. The world Rafe had trained on for decades. That meant she could¡ª


    Rafe shook his head vehemently, trying to drop that train of thought. He took a moment to cool down. All the gods of Skyholm, except for the enchantress were presystem entities. How long had the system even existed in the multiverse?


    ¡°There is a good reason she chose this route though,¡± Noid said.


    ¡°Why is that?¡±


    Noid shrugged. ¡°Hidden statistics, class specifications. Once you get them, they''ll never go away even if you abandon the class. Remember, the essence always remembers.


    ¡°For example as a warrior, you get defense and offense specifications. Those kind of make it easier and more efficient to use stat-enhancing gear.¡±


    ¡°Hidden stats?¡±


    Noid waved the question off. ¡°Oh, yes. Like perception and dexterity and willpower.¡±


    ¡°Willpower? I have a skill that is supposed to increase with an increase in that, and I don''t have the stat. How can something multiply with zero?¡±


    ¡°Just because it isn''t on your status screen doesn''t mean you don''t have it. I mean, as a level nothing human you had nine agility, six strength. You had never seen a system screen in your life.¡±


    ¡°Okay? What about this whole paranormal business?¡±


    ¡°Great. Are you going to ask me about how you should distribute your free stat points next? That would be an interesting discussion.¡±


    Noid rolled his eyes when his words caused Rafe''s eyes to widen in realisation.


    ¡°Nope, not going there. Paranormal. Abnormal effects like magic, luck¡­


    ¡°And now for your gift, for passing the trial of the blade,¡± Noid said in a rush.


    ¡°Wait, but you didn''t tell me about my circumstances with the skills and all.¡±


    Noid smirked. ¡°Luckily, I''m not the best person for that job.¡±


    Noid flicked him on the forehead, and Rafe felt himself rush into the void like a damn meteor.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Congratulations, you have received a blessing from Noid of the Sword.


    Mark: Noid of the Sword. (Blessing) (Growth)You have been blessed by the Sword God. +30 agi, +25 coord, +20 str, +15 end, +10 vit, +5 int whenever you hold a sword during combat. This blessing can be grown through performing acts that please your new patron (¡®Just cut everything in your way¡¯ Noid (wink)).

 Chapter 28. The First Skill

    He slammed back into his own body. It was akin to waking from a nightmare of falling off a cliff. Rafe yelped and threw his arms out to¡­what? Stop the fall, catch himself. As his breathing calmed, Rafe smiled sardonically.


    ¡°I believe this belongs to you,¡± a voice said from in front of him, startling him into jumping back.


    ¡°Waaa!¡± he yelped. ¡°Where did you come from?! Don''t do that.¡±


    ¡°I''m¡­sorry?¡± the man in front of him tilted his head, a frown taking shape on his well-defined face.


    ¡°No, it''s fine. It''s just that I''m feeling a little uncomfortable, you know? It''s like my body doesn''t belong to me anymore, so heavy and unwieldy. Anyway, what were you saying?¡±


    ¡°This, I believe Noid was so eager to get rid of you, he forgot to give you this gift he made for you.¡±


    It was a sword, no surprise there. Rafe got it out of the sheath with zero hesitation, and yes, it was shiny enough. He had no idea where the light was coming from, as they were in the void, but he had to see his face through a reflective surface.


    ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± he said, turning left and right to examine the new scar.


    It was very thin, very fine and white, a lot longer than Noid''s own. A scar ran diagonally from the left of his temple to just below his nose. A tuft of his hair was whiting, and the rest was more raven-black now than dark-brown.


    ¡°I''m part of the family now, aren''t I? Like Noid and the¡­ enchantress? I even got me a white hair. I want to blame Noid''s blessing for that. Say, do you think my scar looks hot?¡±


    The god in front of him blinked, tilting his head again.


    ¡°I¡­don''t know.¡±


    Rafe scoffed in what he hoped was an obviously joking manner, as he was not keen on being vapourised.


    ¡°You just don''t get it, get us, the scar-faced. I''m sure Noid would get it.¡±


    The void around them rumbled in amusement.


    The first Skyholm pressed his lips together.


    ¡°Great, another crazy one.¡±


    Rafe ignored him, having finally gotten to inspect the very well-crafted practice blade. It had veins of erudite, a great energy-conducting alloy. Then there was the main ingredient, a matte black metal most dwarves didn''t use because of its dullness, but it contrasted well with the shimmering blue erudite veins. It was an unbreakable metal, at least by anything ranked near it.


    ¡°It''s a rank D sword,¡± the first Skyholm commented helpfully.


    ¡°I don''t care what rank my practice sword is. It isn''t even in the same shape as my usual saber.¡±


    He tried to sheathe it in disappointment but a god stopped him, taking the sword from his hands.


    ¡°You haven''t even tested it yet. The sword is an artifact of course, created by a Skyholm crafter no less,¡± the god told him.


    ¡°Why would he waste materials this expensive and rare on a blunt¡ª well hello there.¡±


    It had grown sharp in the god¡¯s hand. It started to morph, lengthen into a longsword, and then it broadened to a greatsword. It shortened to a katana, then it turned into a double-edged shortsword. Back into its saber, almost katana-like shape, it started to light up like a disco ball. Rafe recognised the first Skyholm''s transcendent light magic. It settled in the end into a blue sword of light.


    ¡°That''s wrong,¡± Rafe commented.


    ¡°What is?¡±


    ¡°The colour. I prefer my sabers red, even if the history of red sabers has them mislabeled a bit.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± he said. ¡°And blues are just too¡­argh, perfect. At least go with green. You''re inquisitive, aren''t you?¡±


    The first Skyholm handed the sword back to Rafe quietly, his face expressionless. It turned back into its resting saber form. A matte sword with a radiant blue thin main vein in its core radiating branching veins of blue from the centre of the blade to its edges like a leaf.


    ¡°Hmmm? It won''t work, how come?¡± Rafe asked as he tried to will the sword to change form.


    ¡°Are you putting all your mind to it? Try to picture it morphing. You don''t want people recognising those metals, too precious. Gotta have to disguise it at least.¡±


    ¡°I''m putting all my mind to it,¡± Rafe complained.


    ¡°Are you? I don''t see your face knitted in concentration. Your eyes aren''t focused enough. Stare at it like¡­no I don''t mean to glare at it. You must stare at it in concentration. Yes, just like that. Like you''re constipated.¡±


    Rafe froze, lifting his head slowly to stare up at the god in front of him.


    ¡°You¡­you¡­you are messing with me? Me?!¡±


    The first Skyholm leaned his head back, his eyes closed, his expression smug, somehow serene.


    ¡°You should have been the more angelic one,¡± Rafe muttered.


    ¡°Did you think you were the only one who could tease? I''ll have you know I was no walkover even in my day. Anyway, all you have to do is imbue energy into it. I may make it sound easy, but it in no way is, especially for someone like you whose mana is still locked. You¡¯ll need to somehow manipulate your stamina, which is quite the task, I assure you.¡±


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    Rafe allowed himself a few moments to study the sword and admire its craftsmanship. Then with a sigh, he sheathed it again.


    ¡°Noid said you could explain the problem with my skills.¡±


    ¡°Certainly. But first, call me by my name as well. I am Ah-Riam Akh¡¯Braiden. The rest just call me Liam.¡±


    ¡°That''s fine, I guess.¡±


    ¡°Did Noid tell you much about leveling up in the system era?¡±


    ¡°He didn''t,¡± Rafe said, not bothering to hide his disappointment.


    ¡°Do not be too critical of your master, he has sacrificed a lot to make sure your opportunities were this impressive. I wouldn''t be shocked if he goes into the semi-endless slumber.¡±


    ¡°That¡­sounds bad,¡± Rafe said, looking back toward where he thought Noid''s atrium was, as though directions were a thing in the void.


    ¡°It is. Now, the essence¡­¡±


    ****


    ¡°So to recap, the system only streamlined the hundreds of techniques people from the past used to collect essence.¡±


    Liam nodded. Rafe went on.


    ¡°You could distribute essence, most times unconsciously through the kind of training you did. For example, warrior types who were always working with swords or the like found their physical stats increasing over time. Those that practiced magic were physically weaker, but had high mental stats, even though they didn''t know it.¡±


    Liam nodded, encouraging him further.


    Rafe went on to explain - in his own words - how even crafters found some improvement in stats like dexterity, which today is a hidden stat. But even more notable, even the most average people born in worlds with essence would reach the equivalent of a level ten by the time they were fifteen. They might even make it to level twenty before they die, dying at a much higher age than ordinary people born in Essence Deserts.


    Rafe couldn''t imagine the kind of dedication people in the presystem era must have needed to advance. No wonder the people in the trial were limited by age.


    ¡°Good. You have learned the basics of leveling up presystem.¡±


    ¡°Okay, okay. How does this affect my skills?¡±


    ¡°We are getting to that. So the system helps people in stat distribution in the modern era through things like classes, professions. I guess that''s self-explanatory. Then there is races. Humans for instance, at rank F get one free stat every race level.¡±


    ¡°One?¡± Rafe said in astonishment.


    ¡°Every race gets only one race stat at F rank. The only reason I brought this up was the fact that humans are among only a select minority of races able to choose their paths. They can be anything, so all your race stats will be free stats. At a high enough level, your class will also give you some free stats, but that''s a long way away. Some races like the elemenoids have a free stat only distributable to their mental stats. Such a race would be forced by their nature to be mages, and they are usually better at it than humans.¡±


    ¡°I think I''m following. So a race like dwarves would be forced into having a strength point at every level.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Luckily, that is only a problem before they unlock their dexterity stat. Dwarves also have a high affinity for that one.¡±


    ¡°Elves?¡±


    ¡°Coordination, agility, sometimes perception, but elves are sometimes also able to get free stat points.¡±


    Rafe had no more intention to interrupt.


    ¡°Now, skills. There is a maximum amount of essence a skill¡¯s internal structure can take, depending on its rarity. Basic skills at level twenty, common at forty, uncommon at sixty, rare at seventy-five, epic at one hundred, ancient at two hundred, legendary at five hundred. Keep in mind that leveling a legendary skill is much harder than a basic skill, and it''s not a matter of simple addition or multiplication. It''s logarithmic.


    ¡°In case a person who died thousands of years ago knows more math than you, if you need one essence per level of a basic skill, you''d need ten times that for a common skill, and then you''d need a hundred times that ten for an uncommon skill.¡±


    Rafe counted on his hands. ¡°And you''d need what, a thousand times that one thousand Essence for a rare skill, then¡­ that''s way too many zeros.¡±


    ¡°Keep in mind that no basic skill I''ve ever studied only needs one essence unit to advance. Anyway, the system packages essence into experience. Thousands of particles of essence make up one unit of experience, and I know no skill that requires only one experience point to level, much less a class.¡±


    Liam cleared his throat and took some time to get his thoughts in order.


    ¡°To gain experience, you need to do something, to practice your sword, your craft. As you do that your soul processes the essence into experience which helps you level, which then helps you get stats.


    ¡°But ¡­pay attention to this. There was a selfish culture before the system. It was barbaric for lack of a better word, but they experimented on the rifts, the dungeons, the towers. They started to harvest essence from the monsters borne of the cores via a certain ritual. And then, not content with that, these bastards started to harvest essence from people.¡±


    He waited for Rafe to react.


    ¡°How deplorable,¡± Rafe said, aghast (but not truly).


    ¡°Indeed. Luckily, those worlds were devastated during the latter millennium of the presystem era. Anyway, those rituals were adopted by the system and that''s how and why people get more essence from killing monsters and each other in this era. It was one of the methods the system streamlined.¡±


    ¡°Okay¡­¡± Rafe said since the man now had trouble meeting his eyes for some reason.


    Liam cleared his throat. ¡°Anyway, the already packaged essence we get from monsters and other humans, it can''t¡­I don''t know how to explain this¡­it only marginally helps with skill leveling.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Rafe wasn''t kidding.


    He could tell they''d reached the heart of the matter. He just couldn''t tell what that heart was.


    ¡°Classes and skills, their structures are very different. In Enith''s world, which is where the template for the system''s functionality originated from for obvious reasons, they had something they called a core skill, some called it spirit bound. The other skills were called supportive skills. The core skill is the class in this era. The main difference (between core and supportive skills) is their locations, with the class very close to the core of your soul because it is something that literally defines you, defines how you''re going to grow. Do you understand?¡±


    ¡°I''m following,¡± was all Rafe could say.


    ¡°Processed essence follows a very specific route when it enters our soul. Even essence we process ourselves¡­well, most of it - ninety percent I''d wager - goes to the core of the soul. Classes ultimately level faster and more than skills is what I''m saying. Keep in mind the structure of a class is a million times more complex, more demanding than that of a skill. Also more adaptable, so with them taking almost all the essence, even that made for skills, well, skills are always left in the dust. There isn''t even any competition.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Rafe nodded in understanding.


    ¡°There is a way to make your skills level faster though. Consolidation. You reach a bottleneck to advancement, and instead of trying to break through focus on getting your skills to acceptable maximum levels. If your skills are those with well-charted evolutionary paths, the system will help you evolve them as you evolve your class or race or whatever else you''re evolving, so it''s pretty standard practice. Still, during consolidation, you do not need processed essence. Sure, you can go for it, as fighting is a type of practice in and of itself (and it''s the most effective), but most of that externally processed essence is wasted.


    ¡°For skills, it is always practice that works. With the class not taking experience, you can get as much as fifty percent of the internally processed essence to level your skills. Skill leveling is easier at bottlenecks.¡±


    ¡°I get that,¡± Rafe said with a nod.


    ¡°Do you? So you understand where I''m going with this?¡±


    ¡°I think so. I didn''t have a class, so all the experience ended up going into my skills, my skill leveling became easier?¡±


    ¡°Close, but no. Wouldn''t the factions of the multiverse do that if it was that simple? The fact is even if you don''t have a class, you can still level. I told you in Essence rich worlds unawakened children would be at level ten by the time they were your age. And they''d have no class.¡±


    Rafe frowned.


    ¡°So what''s wrong with me?¡±


    ¡°Luck. Fate. A multitude of lucky coincidences has reacted to give you this opportunity.¡±


    Rafe just blinked at the man in confusion. ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Do you know how I got my aspect of the lost weapon? No, how I ended up having seven aspects? Oh, aspects were what people in my world called affinities. So, do you know how that happened?¡±


    Rafe was quiet for a moment.


    ¡°...a soul injury.¡±

 Chapter 29. The Lost Weapon

    When Ah-Riam Akh¡¯Braiden was but a child, he became the first member of his family in generations to fail to bind a legacy weapon to his soul. He did not know why then. They did not why. They froze him out, threw him out of the running to take over Arrabion.


    He was staying in his aunt''s house when he had the dream. There he was, among the ranks of the common footsoldiers. He was old and bitter now, all unkempt hair and days old stubble and stained breeches and holey livery. He could see - and he hated it - that Ae¡¯lena, his cousin, had positioned herself so she protected his side of the formation more than the other.


    His auntie Ae¡¯va and his cousin had been blessings in his life early on, after the incident, after his mother tried to take his head. A few months later though, Ah¡¯Riam had to admit staying with them, looking at their soul-bound weapons¡­it drove him mad with envy and brought the truth of his fall from grace too close for comfort.


    So this old and bitter version of himself had left their home and bought one as a fourteen-year-old boy. He was only a few months from fifteen then, so it was no problem. They had never given up on him though. He was sure his mother would rather he just died and spared her the shame. His father was quiet and stoic as ever. His siblings¡­well he''d been beating them up and down the sparring circle since they had started training. And he wasn''t even the oldest. He had been a genius, never once losing against his brother who was two years older than him.


    He''d once almost lost against some older peasant boy but he''d still managed to win. He was the undisputed best in Arrabion until he wasn''t. He should have been there with them at the front, with his family, leading their city, their people to greatness. His siblings were there, his mother and father, his aunt, his cousin. Even some of the locals who''d gained power the alternative way, by focused training, reaching the status of mythical warriors through their efforts. Ah-Riam had given up.


    He''d known how to use every weapon, had eyes behind his head (according to most everyone including his trainer Ed¡¯Lars) but he''d given up. Now he stood behind with the chaff as the elites raced ahead.


    There was no place for chaff on the field of battle that day though. Ae¡¯Lena¡¯s shield broke not even hours into the fight with a single beast.


    It opened its mouth, and a beam of violet had the sky exploding, bolts of arcane lightning taking down mythical warriors with pinpoint precision. The city they''d tried to protect? The scaly beast hadn''t needed to reach it to torch half of it to the ground. It hadn''t even aimed at it. Only sent a few bolts of arcane lightning as part of its opening salvo.


    It was massive, scaly. It had violet and yellow membraneous eyes, and it had two sets of wings. One set had been moving since it arrived, throwing out currents of wind to keep the warriors fighting it off balance. He screamed as the command was given, and he and his archery contingent released their alchemically enhanced arrows.


    Elements of all kinds exploded into life on the city-sized beast''s body. It roared and fell back an inch. They celebrated. It lowered its head and puffed, showing that yes, it could aim if it desired. Ah-Riam survived because Ae¡¯Lena was there, protecting his side of the formation. His sister - his little sister who''d bonded her fans two years after he''d failed - wasn''t so lucky.


    She was just the first. With three-quarters of the regulars devastated, and about half the mythic warriors gone as well, the battle was all but decided. It was Ara-Tha, that peasant he''d once proudly defeated after a hectic duel, who charged first. He was a brave one. That was why he''d plowed on, advanced and become a mythic warrior when Ah-Riam could not. His bravery aside, he was the youngest elite without a mythical legacy weapon. His death was quick.


    Ae¡¯Lena watched him as Ah-Riam knew she would. She released such a gut-wrenching cry, he felt it in his very soul. He started to run, knowing what would come next. She would charge. He broke from his formation and chased after her.


    Ah-Lita Akh¡¯Braiden - his mother, the strongest most talented mythic warrior born to Arrabion in ages - flew towards the monster''s head with a savage war cry, her gauntlets gleaming. With the force of a crushing meteor - so fast, so unstoppable - she landed a double blow right to the center of its skull. The clang of her mythical weapons hitting something rock hard shocked the whole battlefield quiet. Ah-Lita bounced off with all her accumulated force and flew so far into the broken sky it would be a miracle if she came back before the fight was over.


    Ae¡¯Lena did not react to this. She continued to charge, crying her soul out. Where was Ae¡¯Va? Couldn''t she see her daughter was going to commit suicide? Did she not care? Ae¡¯Lena and her strongest shield projection bumped into one of the creature''s legs and¡­bounced back with no effort. She stood up and prepared to charge again.


    Ah-Riam had known she loved Ara-Tha, but to give up her life.


    ¡°Ae¡¯Lena, wait!¡±


    The creature heard him, heard his tiny voice which should have sounded like an ant¡¯s.


    It fixed all its attention on him, and Ah-Riam was transfixed. The large violet eye, a membrane flicking over it in lieu of blinking. The broken sky, the scattered clouds above it. It was such a scene. A scene of annihilation, of destruction unfathomable. The beast noticed Ae¡¯Lena''s attacks then. It flexed a talon, not even fully lifting it. It flicked Ae¡¯Lena like a gnat, and the unbreakable shield fell to pieces. The beast looked away.


    Ah-Riam let out a cry even as the vision collapsed and he woke up in his new bed, panting and sweating.


    ¡°Are you okay, Riam?¡± a worried-looking Ae¡¯Lena - younger than she had been in the vision - asked.


    Ah-Riam stared at his hands. His young callused hands. They bore the signs of his efforts. He could not give up. If it was a prophetic dream, or if it was a construct of his depressed mind, he did not intend to find out. One thing was for sure though, he had only a few years, a decade at most to save Arrabion from a monster even his mother could not slay. The continent had not come to their aid, in his vision. The people of Arrabion had fought alone. He had fought alone. He stared at his cousin for a long time.


    ¡°We will be,¡± he said, answering her question.


    ****


    ¡°And that was how it started?¡± Liam finished his little narrative.


    ¡°You had a prophetic dream?¡± Rafe asked, not bothering to hide his disbelief.


    ¡°Yes, that right there. That disbelief. That''s what I want to wipe off your face when you too get these dreams in the future. In truth, I didn''t know then. Didn''t know why I hadn''t bonded a weapon, didn''t know why I could see my opponent''s moves before they made them in duels, didn''t know why I could see - if I put my mind to it - everything around me. I''d been doing it all my life, it was just how I saw the world. I had no idea I was special.¡±


    ¡°And humble. Don''t forget humble. And me get prophetic dreams too? Weren''t we speaking of soul damage?¡±


    ¡°All in good time. Of course, you do know how and why I had my soul damaged.¡±


    ****


    It slithered into him, the spiritual entity, not alive but not unintelligent either. It wanted to, no, needed to bond with his soul. It was the only way to save itself. There was pain at first, a soul-deep pain, then the thrashing.


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    Liam dropped the glowing glass orb he''d picked up in one of the The Vault''s rooms to act as his torch. It fell and shattered, the light inside it pouring out in a torrent. And it was strange too. They were particles, visible particles of different colours and wavelengths. They flailed around for a bit, then the violence of his soul¡¯s torment doubled. The light particles froze. His soul froze too and the entity in it gained a foothold.


    Then the light particles came and his soul welcomed them like the desert sand sucking water. But the entity already present did not accept this new intruder. Liam''s soul wanted the light, the entity wanted his soul.


    The battle was long and fierce. In the end, his soul was torn to a million shreds, the biggest remnant had bound the transcendent light. The lost weapon also had managed to grab onto a piece of his soul, A dead shard.


    ****


    ¡°Your soul broke into a million pieces?¡±


    ¡°Just a rough estimate. It could have been a billion for all I cared to count.¡±


    ¡°And you survived?¡± Rafe didn''t care to hide his disbelief.


    ¡°I had help. As I said, this was a one hundred percent fateful occurrence. It just so happened that my innate ability let me perceive my soul from a lower level than most people are able to. Sacrificing life force, I was able to weld a lot of pieces of my soul back together to prevent an early death. That was in my transcendent light aspect soul shard, of course.¡±


    ¡°But you said the piece of your soul the lost weapon bound to was dead?¡±


    ¡°Ahh, and that is where fate comes in. The lost weapon, a legacy mythic weapon left from a universe long since destroyed - just like the ones my family had in the first story. The lost weapon was different though. It was made by mixing the affinities and realised truths of thousands of the strongest practitioners of a dying world. They hoped one of them could bond the weapon and stop a calamity. In essence, they tried to manufacture a mantle by throwing a quantity of truth together.


    ¡°That kind of shortcut never works though. It could not bond anyone who already had a class, or core skill, or aspect as we liked to call it. It could only bond to clean souls. So they tried to bond a child and raise him to power in a few decades.¡±


    ¡°And? What happened?¡± Rafe asked after Liam stopped telling the story only partway through.


    ¡°You must understand that what they built was huge. It looked like an alchemical concoction in the end. It filled vats as large as houses. They were planning to make one warrior in the beginning, but they got greedy. Why not make thousands? Anyway, it might not have been a real mantle, but it was like a mantle. You know how mantles are.¡±


    ¡°I don''t, actually.¡±


    Liam frowned. ¡°Didn''t Noid tell you about the Demon God and his mantle? He asked to show you that vision again when you got your memories back, so we assumed¡­¡±


    ¡°That''s not important anyway. What is, is that mantles are semi-intelligent. They have instincts if that. Most of the guardians who came after me found their mantles via lucky encounters in dungeons. The only reason they became guardians was because they had truths strong enough to control their mantles. The Demon God¡­he wasn''t fully in control there, at the end. And so my story comes to a head. The lost weapon could not be controlled by weak people, until me.¡±


    Rafe stared at him for a moment, then nodded. ¡°Proceed.¡±


    ¡°The lost weapon, or a very small part of it bonded to a dead soul shard. It has instincts, survival instincts. I was the only thing alive there. I''ve come to realise that the only way to destroy fragments of the weapon was to kill their host and leave them hostless for a few minutes. Anyway, the lost weapon panicked, trying to keep that soul shard from dissipating.


    ¡°My living soul couldn''t bond the lost weapon. It couldn''t bond any weapon which was not light-aspected. That was why the transcendent light was accepted. All the other aspects I got later on, even my sword aspect, had a hint of light mixed in them. My innate ability was that much of a control freak.¡±


    ¡°Anyhow, the lost weapon lost its chance to control me. It gave me the boost to save myself. It also gave me the idea in the first place, as it rushed to kill and add pieces of my soul to its fading shard. I did the same thing. I sacrificed life force, it sacrificed its instincts. I later had to take the time to heal my soul properly. I made seven soul shards large enough they could pass for souls, then grew them, cultivated them until they were as strong as normal souls. Each had its own core.¡±


    ¡°You had seven souls?¡±


    ¡°Exactly. And sure, it was rare then, but the universe remembers. Not clearly, but the case of the enchantress having six core slots in one soul should be a good example. Essence remembers. It always did, even before the system. Precedent. What once was will be again?¡±


    ¡°So there are people out there with seven classes?¡± Rafe groaned.


    ¡°Of course. As your soul grows via leveling, you''ll also get a few more slots.¡±


    ¡°You''re a soul doctor, right? How many more class slots do you reckon I''ll get?¡±


    Liam looked unsure for a moment. ¡°Maybe one class and one profession slot,¡± he said with a shrug.


    ¡°But that''s not important. Let us recap a few things. I went into a dungeon, The Vaults - which you''ll have to visit as a requirement, by the way- which had monsters infested with the lost weapon. I killed one of these monsters, barely. The lost weapon tried to latch onto me, my soul resisted, and the rest is history. I was lucky. I was fated. So were you.¡±


    ****


    Rafe wanted his questions answered as soon as possible. He decided to be patient. He needed to think. Liam had told him way too much. A lot. Still, he had to find out. He had to know.


    ¡°So, what''s the prognosis, doc. Will I be able to live?¡±


    ¡°Treat the matter with the levity it requires,¡± Liam lectured.


    ¡°Man, is it just me, or were you and Noid both nobles spurned by your families in one way or another? Curious one turned into a blonde knockout while the other joined us scar faces.¡±


    ¡°Are you trying to deflect?¡±


    ¡°Is it working?¡±


    ¡°Not even a little. What''s there to be nervous about anyway?¡±


    ¡°You don''t understand the language of scars.¡±


    ¡°Do you like your scar that much?¡± Liam asked with raised brows.


    ¡°I think it makes me look more manly, you know. Like a warrior. Your smooth girl-like face on the other hand¡­¡± He shrugged.


    ¡°Hahahaha,¡± Liam said blandly, ¡°very funny. Now, let us get onto the crux of the matter. You were a weird entry into the challenge on all metrics, the only person below level ten to be honest. Not many such would survive in a dungeon of any level. What''s worse, you are from an unintegrated Essence Desert. If your planet had at least had some Essence prior to the integration process starting¡­ well then your planet would have been integrated hundreds of years ago I think, but we are not here for that so don''t ask.¡±


    Liam glared at him, making sure Rafe understood. Inwardly, Rafe was confused and apprehensive (a little). Hundreds of years. The system had become aware of Earth hundreds of years ago but couldn''t integrate it because of the Essence Desert. So then, did that mean the tutorial might not even be in his generation?


    ¡°Of course, now that the system started marking people, the tutorial must be in a little under two months.¡±


    All his hopes were crashed and rekindled at once.


    ¡°Anyway, being marked for a tutorial. It just means the system is strategically showering your soul with essence, strengthening your soul, and preparing you to start leveling once the essence comes flooding in. It takes about three months of this bathing process for at least two-thirds of the population to be ready to start leveling. There are reasons the system does things slowly like this, but you should explore those yourself,¡± he said with a hint of command when Rafe went to open his mouth.


    ¡°Anyway, into our trial sauntered a soul from an Essence Desert, not ready to gain even a single level, but getting a skill in their first seconds in the void. With your brain on the decline, your subconscious did what it could to protect you. And the Essence responded to your plea, granting you the indomitable mind, which later turned into Adamance of the blade. A truly strong skill. One we believe modelled on an achievement of the Enchantress herself. Of course, its only use is to boost your willpower so you can survive more time dilation than someone of your level normally would.


    ¡°You with me so far. All random occurrences, all luck. There is also the matter that we were so close to you when you almost died. You were not even a second away from death''s door when we arrived. Fate. And then you enter a trial and start killing things. Your soul is shocked, especially since it is too busy trying to incorporate my lost weapon and heal your body at the time. You are getting essence, which has to travel to your core. Your core shatters, and the essence goes to your skill. And at the moment, you had two, having gained the second one the moment you spoke with Noid that time you asked him to teach you.¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    ¡°It just so happens though, that your body and soul are in the care of the best soul architect in the multiverse. Fate. Do you see where I''m going? It was impossible to heal your soul immediately though, because your body was in worse shape, critical shape. The lost weapon was still bonding as well, so ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Wait, you just said I was bonding to the lost weapon?! Twice! Is that my class now?!¡±


    ¡°No. I found ways to make the bond¡­less dependent on the core spirit. That is why this trial saves even people with classes. Should I proceed?¡±


    ¡°Go ahead.¡±


    ¡°I couldn''t heal your core spirit until your body was fully healed. Not that I wanted to. It wasn''t immediately lethal anyway, so I waited. Once your body was stable, I started to work on you, but it was too late.¡±


    That sounded ominous.

 Chapter 30. Skills and Cracks

    ¡°Too late? What do you mean too late?¡±


    ¡°Well, take flesh wounds for example. If they are not treated early enough, things go wrong. If they are not disinfected they may become septic. If they are too deep they scar, although only if you have very low vitality. Like you did when your head was sheared in half. Well, let''s just say your soul injury scarred, leaving a permanent mutation on your soul.¡±


    ¡°And this is bad?¡±


    Liam shrugged. ¡°It is neither good nor bad. It does make your skills leveling easier, but there are a million ways to make skill leveling easier especially at the higher tiers of power. Of course, your case is extreme, as all your experience is divided exactly into two. That means your skill leveling will be proportional to your class leveling, which is a bit extreme and also means your class leveling is a bit handicapped. That means it will be slower than average. I also have no idea how you''ll evolve your skills without some kind of external energy, but oh well. What happened next is what you''ll be interested in?¡±


    ¡°What happened next?¡± Rafe asked, wondering what could be more pertinent than slow overall leveling.


    ¡°Well, you cracked ''em all, you crazy bastard. You cracked all your skill structures. Every single one. Even a smithing skill.¡±


    Liam shook his head, studying Rafe like he was a black-spotted white laboratory mouse.


    ¡°Ahhh¡­cracked?¡±


    He had no idea what that meant.


    ¡°You know about upgradeable skills and recognized evolution paths and all that, right?¡±


    ¡°Right?¡±


    ¡°Well, there are other ways to make skills stronger. Cracking one among them. It''s kind of like a cheat. Only the big factions learn this kind of thing. And it''s dangerous. It''s also a bit hit-and-miss. I mean you basically break the skill''s structure in your soul. In most cases, you''d have to forego using said skill for a time, but once your soul healed, well.¡±


    ¡°It is always a toss-up, but something about the skill''s functionality always changes. Could be good, could be bad. The first skill you cracked was your Indomitable mind skill, and it went straight back to work and also evolved immediately.¡±


    ¡°Yeah? When was that?¡±


    ¡°The whole goblin bit.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­when the world¡­?¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­ when you looked into the void.¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    Liam shrugged. ¡°Too bad we weren''t suspicious of anything at the time. We hadn''t been watching quite as closely. It didn''t help that the skill description barely changed, let alone its name. Only the rarity tag did. Of course, I had noticed that your skill structures were getting inflated like balloons. Your skill levels had even started trickling past twenty a little, mostly in that mental skill. It evolved but cracked too. We don''t know what effects it has. Anyhow, with the precedent set, the rest of your skills cracked too. They cracked but did not evolve. I suppose one effect of all your cracks is that you can level beyond the common level cap.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean with the precedent set?¡±


    ¡°I told you, the essence remembers. Remember boy, essence is everything. Your body, your soul, these universes, the skill structures. All made of essence, in one way or another.¡±


    Liam waited for him to internalise that. Rafe swallowed, leaked his lips.


    ¡°Is this going to become a common occurrence in the multiverse?¡±


    ¡°Not in the way you think. I mean, my precedent was having seven functional souls yet what did the essence do, increase the number of slots in people''s soul cores? I reckon the system will start to hand out pre-cracked skills. The only way to get those before was by having someone who''d cracked their skill transcribe it into a skill scroll or something. Now the system has access to cracks. Not that it will give out your unique crack. That would be just cheating.¡±


    ¡°So that is the only effect of my cracks?¡±


    ¡°I''m sure it is not.¡±


    Rafe blinked. ¡°Then what¡­¡±


    ¡°I cannot be sure, as your skill descriptions are supposed to be personalised, in a way. Still, some of your skills¡­ Did you look at your Puppeteer''s Rubber Body? I mean, storing a charge of stamina that will power the skill indefinitely until you stop moving for a few seconds. Don''t look too astonished, I studied the effects of the skill. It might not be a new skill, but the crack certainly is. The system is going to be all over you. Prodding and testing, having all the damn fun!¡±


    ¡°Okay¡­¡± Was it just him, or did the god sound envious of the system?


    Though, how could he not be? The system controlled the whole multiverse.


    ¡°I mean, your cracks are so interesting. Have you seen your version of Parry? A 90% chance at defense. That''s unprecedented, especially given your fighting style is not defensive. Your Heavy blow is also a bit unfair, but again, your Puppeteer''s Rubber Body. What a skill! I''ve never heard of a charged skill before. Precharging a skill with mana or stamina and letting it rip even though the rest of your pool is emptied. That''s a cheat if I ever saw one.¡±


    Rafe frowned. ¡°Aren''t trap spells basically like that?¡±


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    ¡°Good point.¡±


    ¡°Sooo¡­the system? What is it? The way you all talk about it, it''s as if the enchantress¡­?¡±


    ¡°No, do not ask,¡± Liam said, looking around warily. ¡°There is a rule here. We cannot give you more than you have earned. Noid gave you very precious things because he was your master. He could have told you everything, but he gave too much of himself. He needs the rest. I gave you all the information on skills you needed because you gave me a new phenomenon. Information on the system is a boon I cannot grant you.


    ¡°For even attempting the legacy trial of Skyholm, you were given the librarian, my personal lost weapon. The one you saw bond to a dead fragment of my soul.¡±


    The declaration was dramatic enough, but Rafe couldn''t say he felt any different in the moment. Then he felt it. Like sweat pouring out of his pores, only much faster, and a little metallic, like mercury?


    It came out through his forearms. It just looked like a dark-silver liquid. It did not fall off, however. All the drops congregated and formed shapes like snakes. Two snakes, each on one of his arms. They shifted their free ends around like true heads of snakes, testing the air, turning every which way.


    The strands tested his skin, bobbing up and down, sometimes shining with a moving light of some kind. Then one of them froze as its head made contact with his line of sight. It seemed to look into his eyes. The other also froze. Rafe was transfixed. He could feel something. He could feel his very soul shift slightly. Then Liam turned off the lights for some reason.


    ****


    ¡°Ahhh, you are stirring? That took a tad longer than expected,¡± Liam said, his voice sounding slow, low, and distant.


    ¡°Waaa¡­? Huh? What''s going on?¡± Rafe tried to say, but his voice came out slurred.


    ¡°I was just studying your arms. Don''t mind me. You can keep sleeping if you like,¡± Liam said seriously as he went back to prodding Rafe''s arms.


    ¡°Hey, that tickles," Rafe started, going for some levity. "Also, aren''t you way too close?¡±


    ¡°Hmm? No, I don''t think I''m all that close.¡±


    He was literally sitting right next to Rafe''s head. He wondered what he was studying. He thought about asking but then remembered Liam''s last words. The librarian was the last gift he was getting from the man.


    Liam gasped, his grip on Rafe''s arm strengthening a little.


    ¡°What? What is it?¡± Rafe couldn''t help but ask after the man had been frozen for a time.


    ¡°It moves.¡±


    ¡°What does?¡± Rafe said, coming forward to see. ¡°Oh? Oh wow. My parents will not be happy about that.¡±


    The black-silver snake-like strands were no more. Instead, Rafe had tattoos. Tattoos of weird scripts he could not understand. They changed colours like they had that day he''d seen them in his first vision as they tried to bind to an injured Liam. When he focused, the colour settled. He watched a tattoo fly up his forearm, to his bicep then to his shoulder and neck and further still to his half-exposed chest. Rafe frowned. He had forgotten his clothes had been destroyed in the unstable portal when he had entered a dungeon by accident. He was wearing strips of cloth wrapped half-hazard all over his body.


    ¡°What are those scripts?¡± he asked Liam.


    ¡°Hmmm? They are nothing important. Perhaps some of the spells used in the formation of the weapon. More importantly, I find its manifestation curious. Very curious indeed. Your soul injury almost removing the difference between core skills and supporting skills might have affected it more than I assumed. It seems more alive than before, yet it hasn''t awakened. Curious.¡±


    Rafe frowned. ¡°How did it manifest for you?¡±


    Liam waved a hand and an image of him in torn and bloody battlewear appeared. It wasn''t what was interesting though. It was the silver bracers covering his forearms, shining with a familiar script.


    ¡°A pair of vambraces, that''s what. Anyway, it appears my presents to you were inadequate. You have more to offer in trade for my knowledge.¡±


    Liam lifted his hand to forestall Rafe''s barrage before it began.


    ¡°No. I''ll give you two options. A: I tell you everything about the system, even though Enith knows more and will surely tell you more. Or B: I tell you very little about the system, but what I tell you is very pertinent mind you, and train you up a bit. Not like you''re taking my trial as well, but maybe a few years?¡±


    He looked up hopefully. The void roiled in discontent.


    ¡°Twelve months,¡± he tried again.


    Rumble.


    ¡°Eleven¡­Ten¡­Nine. You drive a hard bargain. Fine, eight. Huh? Then it''s back to nine. Alright seven but that''s the lowest I''ll go. I don''t care for a little sleep. It is worth it, I assure you. Alright fine, six months it is.¡±


    The void quieted. Rafe frowned. What had the god been speaking to just then?


    Liam rolled his eyes at the blackness surrounding them.


    ¡°The nerve of some people, right?¡±


    ¡°Ah, yeah, sure.¡± Rafe was starting to see that becoming a god, especially in Skyholm meant eccentricities. ¡°Listen why do you need to train me so badly?¡±


    ¡°Hmm? Oh, you were knocked out, again. You didn''t get to see the notification.¡±


    ¡°Notification?¡±


    The familiar screen flared to life in front of him, this time releasing a pulsing light with an accompanying ding! in his head, like a phone notification.


    There was an envelope on the screen, bouncing the way it would for an email notification.


    ¡°What¡­What is that?¡±


    ¡°Ohhhh? The system is already starting to customise itself to the expectations of the people on your planet. The system manifests differently for most individuals. It customises its appearance slowly over time though and mostly starts with planet-wide customisation. Outstanding individuals will influence it, influence the extra services it will provide.¡±


    ¡°Extra services?¡±


    ¡°Hey, I promised I''d only give you relevant information, and that is not that information. Open the notification.¡±


    He tapped it like a phone screen. His hand passed right through it. He could feel Liam''s eye roll as the man told him.


    ¡°It is not physical. Will never be physical. You have to will it open.¡±


    He did, and he understood. Or at least partially.


    Warning! F-rank Racial ability prematurely awakened. This could be dangerous unless sufficient energy¡­


    Warning! E-rank Racial ability prematurely awakened. This could be dangerous unless sufficient energy is provided. The process might consume life force and as the life force of an F-rank cannot support an E-rank ability¡­


    The rest of its diatribe was cut off again.


    ¡®Ding¡¯Your F-rank racial ability ¡®Humanity¡¯s adaptability¡¯ is reacting to external influences. Please provide sufficient energy or your life force¡­


    Sufficient energy provided.


    Your racial ability ¡®Humanity''s adaptability'' has mutated to ¡®Eye of the Void sage.¡¯


    ¡®Ding¡¯Your E-rank racial ability ¡®Humanity''s creativity¡¯ is reacting to external influences. Please provide¡­


    Sufficient energy provided.


    Your racial ability ¡®Humanity''s creativity¡¯ is¡­processing¡­


    You have created a pseudo-class skill.


    Your racial ability ¡®Humanity''s creativity'' is¡­processing¡­


    Your pseudo class-skill: mimic will remain inactive until you get a main class.


    ¡°Hmmm?¡± Liam commented, frowning at Rafe. ¡°I can''t be sure, as I can''t see everything on your status screen but¡­ Do you not have any achievements? Titles? You did defeat the avatar of a god.¡±


    ¡°Not¡­that I can see.¡±


    ¡°Hmm? What are you planning?¡± Liam said, but he wasn''t looking at Rafe.

 Chapter 31. An All Encompassing Ability

    ¡°There are a few rules to this little training session of ours,¡± Liam said, leveling Rafe such a serious look he knew there¡¯d be no time for banter.


    ¡°Training session? I was under the impression we got six months?¡± Rafe still tried, smiling hopefully.


    Liam only nodded, his countenance now morphing to grave.


    ¡°I hope Noid wasn''t able to break you because he is not the biggest hardass you''ll ever see. I am.


    Okay. That was scary. Rafe went to dial up the charm with another smile when suddenly he was flying, all the breath escaping his lungs in a hiss.


    ¡°The first rule: all we do is fight.¡±


    That was unreasonable on so many counts. Count one: how the hell was a gangly sixteen-year-old going to fight a god-level entity? Count two: child abuse, or was that not a thing in the multiverse? Count three: Rafe not being allowed to use his sword. Count four: why the hell was he still in his sixteen-year-old body if he was back to being a mental projection?


    ¡°The second rule,¡± Liam said as he came to stand over Rafe. ¡°Do. Not. Stay. Down. Ever! One of your vanishingly few natural strengths is your ability to get back up. I want to see that. Not this!¡±


    There was a boot on his head, squishing his face into the earth. He couldn''t breathe. He flailed, tried to claw at the boot with one of his hands. He failed.


    ¡°Rule three: I am only a level twenty-five avatar. You defeated Sam¡¯s level one hundred-plus avatar. Surely you can beat me a few times.¡±


    ¡°Mph..mot¡­e¡­mule!¡±


    ¡°Come again,¡± Liam lifted his boot off Rafe''s head.


    Rafe jumped up like a hopping kangaroo, landing a few feet away and trying to get into a fighting stance. He tried to bend his knees but his balance felt off. He looked to his right, noticing his hand was subconsciously extended as if he were holding a sword.


    ¡°I said,¡± he started, just to buy himself time. ¡°That was not a rule.¡±


    ¡°I was getting to that. If you want to get the answers I promised you before, you have to hit me. Any kind of hit will do.¡±


    ¡°I''m still not even sure why and how you convinced me to do this?!¡± Rafe complained.


    ¡°Is that so? Well then,¡± Liam snapped a finger.


    Rafe watched the white grow colours. He felt everything around them, which had been nothing but featureless white as far as the eye could see a second before, change. Now there was grass and there was a shed in the distance. A herd of buffalo roamed almost a kilometer away, near a glade a little into the woods. There were birds, insects chewing on wood, a squirrel trying to hide a nut. A caterpillar on the blade of grass just next to his foot.


    ¡°Gah!¡± Rafe stumbled but stayed on his feet.


    He was swaying though, gritting his teeth to keep the scream contained.


    ¡°Oh? You are stronger than I would have expected. You are already trying to resist it.¡±


    ¡°What is this?¡±


    Liam shrugged. ¡°My innate ability. Or a variation of it. Yours isn''t light-based. It''s based on void affinity, space and time.¡±


    ¡°Gonna need a little more explanation than that?¡± Rafe said, his teeth now chattering as the sensory overload threatened to knock him unconscious.


    ¡°Precognition and spatial awareness. Using a light aspected innate ability. Yours is a literal translation, stripping the ability down to its two basics.¡±


    ¡°So mine is stronger?¡±


    Liam tilted his head. ¡°How do you figure? Mine was an innate ability that literally influenced my affinities. Yours was influenced by a burgeoning affinity and is just a racial ability anyway.¡±


    ¡°You take that back!¡± Rafe tried to derail the conversation.


    ¡°Enough talk,¡± Liam said as he suddenly appeared right in Rafe''s face.


    ¡°Waaa! But I¡ª¡±


    ¡°Rule three!¡± Liam barked. ¡°You only get answers you''ve earned, after you land a hit. I''ll tell you about the system, about a lot of things, if you can only hit me.¡±


    Rafe was collapsing with a cracked jaw a second later.


    ****


    Liam was born with his innate skill. He''d grown up seeing the world in a different way, seeing what his opponents were about to do in a fight, seeing everything on the field. He thought it was how everyone else saw everything. Then he found out.


    It had been natural to him. It was not for Rafe. Even after he got a new skill that kind of helped him stay in fights longer.


    Skyholm''s fighting proficiency (rare) (lvl. 6).


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    It was slow leveling even with all the pummeling he''d been taking. It was a rare skill. Plus Rafe didn''t have Skyholm''s fighting proficiency. Not even a little bit. Liam had been born to a family of warriors going back long before his great-grandparents¡¯ grandparents. He had trained in the use of every weapon, martial art and technique in his world at the time before he was fourteen.


    And then he''d traveled the universe. He was the only guardian then. The biggest, strongest being. The pinnacle of a whole universe.


    Rafe knew the visions he''d seen before he went to train with Noid said Enith was the strongest, but Liam was something else. Maybe they were strong in different ways?


    It had been five months. Five months of nothing but Liam pulling out one weapon after the other. Today Rafe was unarmed, getting the stance right with his knees only a little bent, his heel bouncing, and his hands fisted below his jaw.


    Liam held a spear, sidestepping in slow, measured steps, stocking his meal.


    Liam lunged forward with a thrust and Rafe moved forward to meet him, bobbing and weaving, trying to confuse Liam. None of them committed. They had found that as a level twenty-five, Liam''s innate precognition was almost ten seconds ahead of Rafe''s. What was worse, as an innate skill, it grew stronger at every level.


    Rafe''s might, or might not gain some range and extra seconds with every new grade. Rafe would settle for it just growing reliable. His precognition, they had found, was wonky. It only reacted some of the time, to some movements. Maybe it was at more dangerous times? They''d tried to study it all to no avail. It annoyed Liam more than it did Rafe.


    Even as a child, Liam had been able to see the souls of others. He could tell someone''s affinity on first meeting. He didn''t know that was special of course, the show off. He could see his soul. He could see everything. His ability had been named ¡®All seeing eye of the Sage¡¯.


    Rafe''s only advantage was that he could see mana flowing in the wind. He could see spells being shaped a bit more clearly than Liam could at his level, but they were not using magic.


    The two danced past each other''s traps, partners who''d danced together too long they knew each other''s tricks. At least the opening tricks. Rafe narrowly avoided the spear''s tip, letting the length of wood flow past his skin as he got in close. Liam''s trailing foot came up to trip him a little. He let the legs connect, tumbled, trying to force himself leftward so he barrelled into the enemy.


    The enemy was already flowing, only his toes touching the grass as he seemed to fly sideways to maintain his distance. The fight had already started, so there was no need to stare each other down again. The spear thrust and this time Rafe tried a risky maneuver of ducking at the last moment, almost like he was playing a party game. His eyes locked with Liam''s as the man scowled, hating the playfulness with which Rafe treated the long-term sparring session.


    The wood came down on Rafe''s chest with a thwack, bouncing off even as Rafe was forced down. He bounced off the ground, skidded a little backward, and was on his feet in a second, trying to backstep.


    ¡°Wrong. You''re supposed to be trying to get on my guard. Six months is almost up. You will never get any information on the system like this!¡±


    Rafe gritted his teeth but continued to backpedal cautiously. He just needed a moment, a chance. Wasn''t that what he told himself all the time? Liam hadn''t shown it in his own Skyholm vision, but he could have been Noid''s equal as a warrior even without magic. With magic, well, Rafe knew he and his master were only adequate, but sometimes that was enough.


    Still. He had a long way to go. He had thought his path was set. Leave the trial, get some epic classes, level up, and he''d be among the multiverse elite. How wrong he''d been. If there were warriors half as good as Liam out there. Not even because of his innate ability. If there were warriors who moved with that much grace, that much control over their bodies, it''d be a blood bath. If there were warriors who''d put in half as many hours of practice as Liam had, he was so screwed, and excited, kind of.


    Rafe guessed he did have advantages, one of which was the myriad skills he already had. He also had a solid plan now. He was going to become a monster of a melee fighter, using skills only to augment his fighting. He needed skills that boosted his strength, his speed, his defense, and maybe even his healing capabilities.


    Rafe liked thinking of the future because the present sucked. Liam had taken the initiative already, and there was no chance for Rafe to get in his guard again. Besides, there were still tricks to fighting someone in close range using a spear. Liam had never had to resort to tricks in all the months they had been training.


    The speed kept ramping up, and Rafe was only barely able to dodge, seeing no chance to get in close. Liam kept upping the ante, waiting for Rafe to make a mistake, snap under the pressure. He always did. And he did so today again.


    With a growl, Rafe pretended he was going to charge blindly, angrily. Liam thrust toward the awkwardly moving leading leg. Rafe jumped, went into a drop kick. Liam gracefully stepped sideways, letting Rafe jump past. Or so Rafe had assumed.


    With a speed Rafe had not thought possible for a level twenty-five, Liam lifted his leg and kicked his airborne enemy downward. Rafe impacted the grassy plain even as it shifted to a softer snowy land. He bounced in the soft snow, leaving a furrow deep in the ground.


    He tried to hurry to his feet but he was buried in a tiny hill of snow. Clearing the white coldness took him a moment. A moment in which Liam had arrived, already kicking. He kicked him on the jaw, sending his neck snapping back. Rafe was stunned.


    Still, he wouldn''t go down that easily. He saw the stab before Liam had started the attack, his precognition finally kicking in. He had to wait until the last second to start his roll. Liam changed his trajectory at the last moment, going for where Rafe was headed now. Too bad Rafe had a plan for that eventuality. Shamelessly cheat.


    As his belly rolled upward, Liam still in the middle of his thrust, Rafe released his payload. A snowball flew towards Liam. The god just tilted his head and continued the thrust. He had to abort his attack at the last second as Rafe released his true trap, such as it was.


    He haphazardly threw snow around while he rolled, hoping to hit Liam in the face. Rafe saw his chance when Liam took a step back. With his back on the white ground, he launched himself forward with as much force as he could muster. Liam blocked the offending foot with the butt of his spear but Rafe was already charging another kick. He was going to call his ground dancing and flailing move the earth dance, a new martial arts technique by yours truly.


    Liam was on the defensive against Rafe''s ground-based kicks. He changed the tempo every once in a while. He just needed to¡­Liam jumped off the snow with his toes, flowing gracefully backward, gaining some range.


    ¡°A truly graceless approach you''ve chosen, throwing dirt and flailing like a worm. Still, it''s an improvement. Use the environment to your advantage if your opponent is that much stronger. I come,¡± he finished without preamble.


    Rafe was on his feet this time. It was almost a reset. Rafe was more injured than his opponent, but he had more than ample experience fighting to ignore the pain. He could last hours fighting Liam, even when his stamina flagged. His resources were still low, so learning how to ration them was very important, according to his trainer.


    They would only rest for a few minutes, during which time the trial would heal Rafe and reset his resources,


    and then they''d fight again. Rinse and repeat. Liam had said six months of training, and Rafe trained almost nonstop for six months. He never managed to land a decisive strike though.

 Chapter 32. The Unclaimed Throne

    ¡°Your attacks are telegraphed,¡± Liam complained.


    ¡°No, they are not. You just have perpetual precognition.¡±


    ¡°That might be true, but still¡­ You fight like a graceless bull, charging blindly half the time. You''re impatient. You get frustrated too quickly. All these are little flaws that will someday come back to bite you in the ass.¡±


    Rafe sighed. He was tired, exhausted, defeated. He slumped his stiff shoulders.


    ¡°Man, my body feels so unwieldy. I can''t wait to work on it a little bit once all this is over and dealt with.¡±


    Liam studied his lanky teenage body and frowned. ¡°Indeed.¡±


    ¡°I was once proud of the physique I had. I should have suspected it wasn''t that great when I couldn''t get girls, shouldn''t I?¡±


    Liam frowned at him. ¡°Our time together draws to an end, young one. Do you not have a question for me?¡±


    ¡°I didn''t touch you once,¡± Rafe said with a shrug, not bothering to hide the bitterness clawing at his throat.


    ¡°The sparring session is finished. Ask and I will give you the most pertinent answer before you''re on your way.¡±


    Rafe looked around into what was once endless black. He could sense the expanse in which they stood. Or he thought he could. The main purpose of their extended sparring session had been to get Rafe to control his new racial ability, and they''d achieved that at least. He did have to limit his sphere of perception to a few inches around him for the moment, but it would grow as his race ranked up. His precognition was still finicky, but at least he did have a precognition ability.


    He''d managed seven whole levels to the Skyholm''s fighting proficiency skill in that last month. He had climbed a long way with desperation leading him on. He had failed in the end, but the skill had grown. As had his fighting acumen. Now Liam was telling him he might still get the information on the system he desired.


    ¡°What is the system? Who controls it? How does it work?¡±


    Liam nodded. ¡°Too many questions. Luckily, they have a similar answer so I''ll let it slide. The system is a consciousness to the essence.¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    ¡°You don''t understand what I mean. Do you remember that goblin nest core? The system is a bigger version of those, in the simplest terms, although it handles both monsters and awakened.¡±


    ¡°That answers none of my questions!¡± Rafe couldn''t help but complain.


    ¡°And that is fine. I said I''d give the most pertinent answer. You''ll have to find out more from other sources. I am allowed to tell you, however, that the system is like a child. No, it is a child. The first of many. It is a natural phenomenon, as are the others.¡±


    Rafe waited, but Liam seemed to be done talking.


    ¡°That makes much less sense. Is it a child, a natural phenomenon? Pick one.¡±


    Liam looked up at the sky, such as it was. When the void did not rumble, he said, ¡°The system is all also called the unclaimed throne. It can rule the multiverse, but not alone. The others are necessary. The boundaries, the river, the darkness.¡±


    The void roiled a little in warning then.


    ¡°It is also at war, the system. All the children are.¡±


    The void now roiled in earnest.


    ¡°You must go now. Our time together draws to an end.¡±


    ¡°You''re not going to flick me on the forehead, give me direction?¡± Rafe asked, trying to break the tension.


    ¡°Me and Noid are quite different, thank you very much. Just move forward and you''ll find what you seek. We are in a civilised void space.¡±


    Rafe turned and left, a little disappointed with the information, a little disappointed his training had ended, and maybe even a little disappointed he''d never see two of these gods again. At least not anytime soon.


    ****


    ¡°Welcome,¡± a cloud of darkness darker than the void approached him. ¡°You stand in the presence of the god of shadows.¡±


    ¡°You may kneel,¡± a familiar figure said.


    There were two of them, and Rafe was sure none of them was a shadow clone.


    ¡°Hey, guys. How''s it going?¡±


    ¡°Why do you look so sad?¡±


    ¡°Are you not excited to see me again? You were grinning like an idiot the last time.¡±


    ¡°An idiot who beat your ass,¡± Rafe smirked in her direction.


    ¡°Oh, you want to have a go at it, punk?¡± one of the soul remnants said, cracking her knuckles as she made to step forward.


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    ¡°Stop, Sam. You are an embarrassment to us all. How could you lose to a snort-nosed brat?¡±


    ¡°Hey what is your problem with me?¡± the one who''d stepped forward said, turning to glare at herself.


    ¡°My problem is everything about you. Your face, your name, your bland clothing. Your whole empress of the night vibe.¡±


    ¡°We are literally the same person.¡±


    ¡°The same person cannot come all the way from her own trial just to get an opportunity to meet the boy before I do! You stole my thunder.¡±


    ¡°Stealing thunder is what we do, girl?¡±


    ¡°Not from ourselves.¡±


    ¡°Says you! I''ve never carried out a more thrilling heist than when darling Enith snuck me in here and into the trial. It was glorious, getting past you like the little chump you are.¡±


    ¡°Shit! Enith, that little void monster. What was she up to, helping Noid like this?¡±


    ¡°She said it was to help the children,¡± the one who''d apparently sneaked into the trial said.


    Her other self did not answer for a while, seemingly lost in deep consideration. As one, they whirled to study Rafe, their expressions stiff and suspicious. They both froze when they saw the boy''s pained smile though.


    ¡°Seriously, what is the matter with you?¡±


    ¡°It''s just¡­you''re not my master. And perhaps we are not going to train together for the next six months, but I just might miss you the most when I leave.¡±


    The twins blinked and reeled back a little. Then they looked at each other, their eyes meeting under their shadow veils.


    ¡°That is¡­so sweet of you to say,¡± the true denizen of the trial spoke first.


    ¡°I knew we had a connection,¡± the other spoke, even as she rushed forward to hug him.


    He let her, let himself get lost in that embrace for a while. The second one joined them too.


    ¡°Speaking of missing people,¡± now that he''d admitted it to himself. ¡°What d¡¯you guys reckon will happen to the trial I was in? The people?¡±


    ¡°Oh, that?¡± the two gods looked at each other over his head.


    In his human body, he was still shorter than them at the moment.


    ¡°Well, I guess it will depend on the enchantress and whatever¡­ Wait! What is that? Why do I smell a blessing on you?¡±


    ¡°A blessing?¡± The other asked as she took to sniffing like a dog. ¡°Oh? Oh!¡±


    ¡°So that was her plan? To have us waste our gift like this?¡±


    ¡°That cannot be it, can it? What if she is manipulating us into getting angry, into trying to go after her? What if she is puppeteering our every move? We need to think things through first, Sam.¡±


    ¡°Forget thinking. We can''t let our boy go into this threat blind. We¡¯ll have to live our fantasy of robbing the enchantress blind through him.¡±


    ¡°Your boy?¡± Rafe couldn''t help but ask.


    He did like their little comedy routine a little. He did like them in general. He had no intention of becoming a shadow dueler though. Not now or ever.


    ¡°Yes, you''re ours too. It''s too bad Noid already claimed you, but well, you were his first. We only have one gift for you, besides the obvious that is.¡±


    ¡°The obvious? And aren''t you only supposed to give me one gift unless I did something to deserve the second.¡±


    ¡°We have to hide your blessing, of course. Do you not know how much grief that will cause you outside?¡±


    ¡°And you gave plenty to deserve the second gift. You''re ours, to start. You stole our heart. Any thief''s good in our book, and you defeated me. Gave me a new appreciation for violence.¡±


    ¡°And there are two of us anyway. Two remnants, two gifts.¡±


    ¡°Now, for the first gift.¡±


    You have gained the ability Shadow Monarch''s Veil. You can hide your status information. Proficiency increases with skill level. Price reduced with skill level. (Set to Rare) (lvl. Maxed out)


    ¡°Level maxed out? What does that mean? Isn''t the maximum level for a rare skill just seventy-five? And set to rare?¡±


    Nor that maximum levels mattered to him at all.


    ¡°What is to explain? It is a skill too high tier for your current soul. Remember that one level at a high enough tier could be the equivalent of thousands of levels at a low tier.¡±


    ¡°This is a legendary skill?¡± Rafe couldn''t help but ask.


    The two gods exchanged glances.


    ¡°Legendary?¡± one asked.


    ¡°How cute.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± they said in unison as they stared at him.


    ¡°For one thing, the system would never censor a legendary skill even if your soul could not handle it,¡± one of them continued.


    ¡°Then who censored this for me?¡±


    ¡°You have to ask that?¡± they both cocked their brows.


    ¡°Well then what rarity is it? And how?¡±


    ¡°Pointless questions at the moment. You did say we couldn''t spend any time together, right? Well lucky you. We have to teach you at least how to disguise your status and level a little.¡±


    ¡°But I have to ask,¡± the second one said, ¡°why is there such unrest in your soul? It''s like you have an ability that is yet to settle into anything¡­¡±


    ¡°An ability? Oh, you mean my E-rank racial ability?¡± Rafe frowned. ¡°It awakened early and even contributed to the creation of my pseudo-class skill mimic.¡±


    ¡°So that''s what that weird little thing in your soul is?¡± the first shadow mistress asked. ¡°What does this¡­pseudo-class skill do?¡±


    ¡°I can''t find out until I get my main class. Liam was of the view it might help me copy spells or something. His ability from the librarian helped him copy whole affinities but ¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes, your ability can''t be as good as his. So he gave you the librarian? And the innate ability?¡±


    ¡°I did get Eye of the void Sage instead of the All seeing eye of the Sage. And it''s a racial ability now.¡±


    ¡°And the limitations?¡± the second mistress asked.


    For some reason, they were so focused right now it was disturbing. They were both looking at him so intently and under their cowls, he could see their eyes widening with his every word.


    ¡°My precognition is pretty limited, in that it only triggers when it wants to. My sphere of perception is so small it''s not more than a few inches from my body, although that''s just the safest distance. I could probably widen it but that requires a lot of concentration to control. Oh, and I can''t see my soul or anything.¡±


    ¡°Figured,¡± one of them said, but they didn''t elaborate.


    They kept looking at him for a few uncomfortable moments. Then slowly, ever so slowly, they turned to face each other.


    ¡°There was no way she predicted this. It''s just¡­not possible. This is too perfect.¡±


    ¡°Well, if she did predict it, then she knows us too well,¡± the second Sam grumbled.


    Rafe was uncomfortable, and watching them shoot furtive glances his way while they muttered about millenia-old plans and conspiracies had him getting worried. He cleared his throat, trying to change the atmosphere in the room.


    ¡°Hey, what did you mean about the blessing being an inconvenience?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Skyholm is not the most prestigious faction in the multiverse,¡± one said, rolling her shoulder.


    ¡°They''d be on you like a pack of rabid dogs. We''ve lost many of our trial''s products because of all the hate, you know?¡±


    ¡°Haters,¡± the other said.


    ¡°Word.¡±


    ¡°And Noid''s blessing is stronger than the ones we''ve been handing out lately. It will shine like the sun to anyone looking.¡±


    ¡°Or a beacon in the night,¡± the other commented.


    ¡°I see.¡±


    ¡°So then, shall we start?¡± they said in unison, smiling at him brightly under their hoods.

 Chapter 33. Lonely Road

    ¡°Remember what we told you, Rafe, dear.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Get the storage skill from good old Granderel. Then get the oldest and weakest looking one from the phoenix?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, listen to us on that point. You''ll never guess its function and you might even disparage it normally.¡±


    ¡°Okay¡­¡± he said. ¡°Then get the bloody eye of the bloody enchantress. I''d feel bad doing it though, she already lost that eye once.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come off it boy,¡± one of them said.


    ¡°We need this. We need to get her back somehow.¡±


    ¡°Besides, it''s not even her eye. She is a spirit remnant like us. It is a valid reward,¡± the first one said with a smirk, making a good point.


    ¡°It is a phoenix eye you know. It grows back,¡± the second one added.


    ¡°Yeah, I guess I get your points. Are you sure though? I mean if I''d been left to choose my rewards without your input, I''d probably have chosen differently.¡±


    ¡°Don''t worry kid, we aren''t going to incur the wrath of the void.¡±


    Rafe turned to leave, hesitated. He looked back at them for a few moments.


    ¡°Will I get to see you guys again?¡±


    ¡°Just make it to our level,¡± one answered.


    ¡°Or just make a deal with the enchantress. I''m sure she can find a way to circumvent her own rules.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± He turned once more.


    ¡°Don''t forget what we told you about her little tower though. The last floor. White.¡±


    He didn''t turn back around, merely lifting his hand to wave.


    ****


    ¡°Do you think we did the right thing?¡±


    ¡°I''m sure the treasures we advised him to choose are the best. That should be enough,¡± Xamanthia spoke to herself.


    ¡°Yeah, but what if that bitch wanted us to do exactly this? What if we were helping her agenda along without even realizing it?¡±


    They both turned to look in the direction the boy had disappeared, their shadow-hooded faces frowning. Then they shrugged.


    ¡°I would have done it even if that bitch benefits somehow.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, the kid is worth it.¡±


    ¡°That said, what could that witch be up to?¡±


    They both looked in the direction the boy had gone, shrugged again, and went to disturb Noid in his atrium. And Liam was there too, all three - or four - eagerly waiting for the last meeting to start.


    ****


    Rafe spent about two weeks with the shadow monarch and her twin. He learnt only a few basics on how to disguise his status, but that would have to be enough to deal with anyone on Earth and any neighbouring planets he could go to. Or so they said to him. Of course, he had to continue practicing to get better and to do that, he would need a certain skill. They hoped he could find it in the tower somehow.


    The third Skyholm was not a human, only one of two such beings in the pantheon. He was humanoid though, and very tall.


    He loomed over Rafe, an angel with wings made of stars and planets and cold space. His hair was dark, his eyes had no whites, and his folded arms were rounded like watermelons.


    ¡°I like your wings.¡±


    The being smirked. It looked kind of thuggish to be an angel in Rafe''s opinion. Liam was the one who should have been an angel, or angel-like.


    ¡°And your arms. How do you get them so toned?¡±


    ¡°I could teach you. Is that the gift you want?¡±


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    ¡°To learn to work out from someone who could give Arnold Schwarzenegger the run¡­ That is tempting.¡±


    He was not even lying. He was tempted, looking at his very teenage muscles. He''d spent years working in the trial, all for nothing.


    ¡°But I have to decline.¡±


    ¡°A pity. Not to worry though. Stats do alter your physique with time.¡±


    Rafe imagined himself looking like some Greek deity some centuries from now. Maybe it was a possibility. But with the scar and all, that was a little¡­he winced as his dreams came crashing down. Enith and Noid were nowhere near ugly, but they weren''t the pictures of perfection Noid thought of when he imagined god. Liam and Grenderel though. Now they were absolute knockouts.


    ¡°Really? Do you reckon I could become as tall as you? Get wings even?¡±


    The giant, his hands still folded over his truck-like chest, blinked down at Rafe''s question.


    ¡°Not many people would choose to change their forms so completely, but as a god, you can alter your appearance.¡±


    ¡°Why would anyone not want to look like you? You''re the true picture of what a god should look like.¡±


    The god nodded, finally letting his expression change from his resting thug face to a more sagely older brother type.


    ¡°We found a good one this time. And you have a nascent spatial affinity too. I have treasures here that I collected from my time traveling the multiverse. What is it you¡ª¡±


    ¡°A storage skill scroll, please.¡±


    ¡°Hmm? Awfully decisive. She put you up to this, didn''t she?¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Rafe asked, maintaining a calm demeanor.


    ¡°Most of her exploits are because of that skill. She built a universe all her own. Of course, it''s her.¡±


    Rafe kept his poker face on. ¡°I don''t know what you''re talking about. I spent decades adventuring in a pre-system world. It sucked. Hard. A storage skill is just an essential for an adventuring team. Same as healing potions.¡±


    ¡°You don''t have a team,¡± the giant pointed out rather helpfully.


    ¡°I will someday,¡± Rafe said, moving to the defensive.


    ¡°Will you? After what happened with the last one?¡±


    Rafe knew what the man was talking about. He didn''t want to think about Aeon right now but¡­ If that world still existed somewhere in the multiverse, he''d think of giving it a visit maybe. Someday very far into the future.


    ¡°I don''t know. I do want to have friends though. I always liked playing basketball with the boys. It gave me a sense of¡­belonging.¡±


    ¡°I see. Well, best have you on your way soon.¡±


    Rafe received the scroll and tried tucking it into a pocket. It slipped straight through the bare strings on his legs.


    ¡°Shit! I''m still half naked!¡± Rafe reeled.


    He had spent two weeks with a woman, and he''d been half naked, and he''d never known it.


    He was beet red.


    ¡°In your defense,¡± a grinning giant said after clearing his throat. ¡°She does have that influence on people.¡±


    ¡°She''s so charming you just forget you shouldn''t be half-naked in front of a girl?¡± he asked sarcastically.


    ¡°Of course not. She does control attention though.¡±


    ¡°Ahh.¡±


    Rafe bent down and picked up his scroll. He debated on where he should keep it. He decided to tie it to his bicep using his shirt string.


    ¡°You could have picked legendary rarity armour you know. It grows too, with you.¡±


    Rafe almost tripped over his own feet. He was going to see two more females before his tour of the void was over, and his only fully functioning clothes were a pair of boxer briefs. He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant.


    ¡°Armour is too heavy. I''m agility-focused.¡±


    He tried to keep moving, to get out of there before he questioned his life''s decisions. He could hear the scoff in the god''s voice.


    ¡°What part of grows with you do you not understand? You can still¡ª¡±


    Rafe covered his ears and stuck out his tongue as he tried to increase his pace.


    ¡°That''s strange,¡± the god said when Rafe took his hands off his ears.


    ¡°Yeah. Why am I still here? I should have moved on.¡±


    ¡°You should have,¡± the god said as he frowned around at the non-existent sky.


    ¡°And why is that?¡±


    The angel sighed. ¡°I suppose the trial has deemed it that my gift was not sufficient.¡±


    ¡°Huh? I''m not giving it back.¡±


    The man scowled at him. He turned, muttering something about cheating as he scrounged through a chest that had appeared out of nowhere.


    He picked something white out of the chest and tossed it to Rafe. The void rumbled its approval.


    ¡°Is this¡­¡±


    ¡°No. That would have been unacceptable. That skill was one I personally modified, you know, after I got the mantle. With Liam''s soul vault and Sam''s shadow verse and my spatial affinity it just¡­ It is a great skill you know.¡±


    He was addressing the void there by the end.


    ¡°I don''t get how the void is alive, by the way.¡±


    ¡°It''s not. It''s the trial. Void is dead as dead can be.¡±


    ¡°Okay? So, what is this?¡±


    ¡°It''s basic clothing. To cover up a little before you meet the ladies. It has basic repair and self-clean enchantments, and also self fits.¡±


    Rafe looked down at the robe. It looked like something ancient martial artists on earth wore, a cream sash included.


    ¡°It looks amazing. How come I can''t get any information out of it if it''s got a rarity tag?¡±


    The god shrugged. ¡°Appraisal. Another basic for an adventuring team.¡±


    ¡°Uh, got you. I''ll just go find a quiet corner to change¡­over there?¡±


    Rafe turned around to leave, but the god seemed to have one more thing to say.


    ¡°Hey listen, kid, about forming a team. It might be a pipe dream for someone like you. I know you think you don''t need to become a god, or that you''ll do it in your own time, your way. Guess what, we all thought the same thing. Skyholm is the only pantheon I know of, guardians or lower ranked, to have lost every single one of its gods after the system came.


    ¡°And we didn''t die because we were weak. We did not choose immortality. Immortality chose us. Just thought you should hear that, especially before you meet Enith. I have a feeling whatever she wants bad enough she has gone to all these lengths isn''t something you''ll so easily refuse.¡±

 Chapter 34. The End of a Universe

    Sendriel of the Sands sat waiting for him in a space built to look like the expanse of space. Stars twinkled in the distance. Near her, a planet burst to life, growing greener even as Rafe looked at it. Then it dissipated, a very life-like illusion undone.


    ¡°Birth and rebirth are worlds apart, I''m afraid,¡± the red-haired woman in front of him said to no one in particular.


    ¡°Okay?¡± he said with a frown.


    Could she be unaware he was here? She seemed to be deep in a trance, probably meditating. Rafe had tried that once and he did not fancy himself a meditator by any means. He lacked that calmness they had. Maybe he''d get it as he grew older and wiser, although, wasn''t he pretty old by now?


    ¡°Hmmm? Fire, destruction, desolation. Such a perilous path you begin, young one.¡±


    Young one? Well, he supposed to a millions of years old entity he''d be pretty young, wouldn''t he? And what was she saying about his path? Come to think of it, Grenderel had said something ominous too.


    ¡°What are you¡ª¡±


    ¡°But that will not be all. Change. Hope. Peace. Hmmm? You will give a lot to the multiverse, and take from it too. Your fate burns brighter than a star gone supernova. Be ware what awaits you beyond my sanctum. Now, choose your gift.¡±


    That was¡­rude, uninformative, succinct. It was unbelievable is what it was.


    Then the feathers came. They were erect, shimmering, well preserved in enchanted vases. Their colours differentiated them though, but they all had that vague ethereal quality Rafe associated with the divine.


    His aura senses tingled. He wanted them all. He feared them all.


    Then he jolted as a thought occurred to him. He was the first person to ever pass Noid''s trial. Grenderel had been forced to offer more gifts than he''d wanted. The phoenix though, had offered only a feather. And perhaps a glimpse into his fate? Only she had offered cryptic hints and dire warnings. Was she perhaps trying to cheat him out of a second reward?


    ¡°You have to tell me more about my path.¡±


    Slowly, the woman opened her eyes. They were bushy, her lashes, like a smaller version of down feathers. Her pupils were large and fiery and hers looked like a gigantic chicken¡¯s eyes. The rest of her was all too human though.


    ¡°Pick a feather,¡± she said.


    He choked on a protest as he remembered Sam¡¯s entreaties. He had to pick the oldest. He never would have thought to do that though. Not in a million years. He would have picked the one nearest him and happily gone with that. As it was, he had to look around for a long time, going past very interesting feathers in the meantime.


    There was a feather that gave off the distinct feel of metal. It was straighter than those around it, and its edges were silvery and when he went closer he caught a whiff of steel. It must have been some natural treasure he could use to forge a sword.


    He painfully left it behind. And left another that smelled like lavender and that his pores sang for. It must have been a body improvement feather. Improving his body just a little bit appealed to him. He needed to get some action in the companionship business.


    He left it. He was saddened.


    What he found was a mistake on so many levels, he wondered if Sam hadn''t meant it that way. Maybe as revenge for beating her, humiliating her.


    It was red, it was old, it was mortal. It was a wilted flower compared to all the others. Sure, he could feel the magic emanating from it, but why did it look like the old feather of a chicken that had been slaughtered two nights ago? Its shaft was hardening, cracking. Its barbs were clumping in places, drying up in others, leaving bald patches on the shaft.


    Rafe was not sure he wanted to pick it. He was sure he would not have picked it in a thousand years.


    ¡°Is this really the strongest one?¡± he queried the phoenix.


    A membrane - that was probably hidden under her eyelid - flicked over her eye in lieu of a blink. She said nothing.


    Rafe argued with himself. There were hundreds, no thousands, hundreds of thousands of better-looking feathers. Still, Sam wouldn''t have lied to him. Would she?


    He picked the feather. Nothing happened. At least at first.


    ¡°Huh? I kind of expected ¡ª¡±


    A bolt of lightning struck his body. Or at least it felt like it had. He couldn''t control his body for an amount of time he couldn''t determine.


    He found himself lying horizontally in the all-encompassing darkness as if he''d fallen, but there was no ground to fall to, only void.


    His mouth was wet. Like he had been frothing. His muscles were sore, frayed, like he''d run a marathon while doing burpees. He''d had a convulsion, was all he could decide.


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    He did not have the feather anymore. The tattoo on his arms was bright, like a red firecracker


    It had eaten his feather! The librarian had eaten his damn feather.


    ¡°Give it back, you damn bastard!¡±


    It could not. It was growing, rewriting itself. It could cover the length of both his arms now even before moving, and it was still growing.


    He heard a loud sigh, reminding him he was not alone in this place in the middle of nowhere.


    ¡°The lost weapon is a part of you now, boy. I guarantee the feather shall still be able to perform the purpose whoever had you take it had in mind.¡±


    ¡°Oh. And what is that purpose?¡±


    ¡°Not one I will share. I will tell you that you are locked in now though. Enjoy the vehicle you have bought.¡±


    Then she closed her eyes and resumed her meditation, and however Rafe tried he could not wake her.


    He stayed there a while, healing and waiting for the damn parasite to finish its digestion. It stopped glowing, turned to a dark-ashy ink pattern resting along his arms, all over his chest and creeping up his neck. It looked kind of cool.


    He looked to the phoenix one more time but the woman looked at him not. He shrugged and went his way. To the last meeting, the one he''d been dreading.


    The enchantress. He''d seen her once, seen the centuries-old battle she''d effectively ended even as a mortal. He didn''t understand half the things he''d seen then.


    What he did understand was that even though it wasn''t hers, the enchantress had manipulated his trial. She''d manipulated the gifts he''d received. He was now sure Sam''s fear of the enchantress having predicted the thief was right on the mark.


    What he found in the enchantress¡¯s atrium confused him to no end. There was a broken and bloody woman, a girl really, fighting against¡­


    That was odd. Rafe was pretty sure he''d seen the being she was fighting before.


    The Demon God. Younger and without the universe-devastating power he''d gained when he fought Sendriel of the Sands. The little power he had was enough though.


    The enchantress wore soft leather armour fashioned like a witch''s robe complete with thigh-hugging tights, a short battle skirt and pointy hat. She held her whip-like blade. Her prosthetic eye was shining.


    The demon god pulled a beam of what appeared to be arcane lightning from the sky. The enchantress rolled out of its way. It was insufficient and Rafe watched with rapt attention as the area the enchantress had been in seemed to erupt with destructive forces too myriad to comprehend.


    When the dark and dust settled, the enchantress remained amid a shimmering jade solid-crystal mana aegis that fully enclosed her like the shell of an egg.


    She was floating off the ground, staring at the bemused Demon God. Her whip had been replaced by a spellcaster''s staff. She cast a spell.


    The Demon God charged and dodged the spell in one movement. He hit the aegis with his forearms, sending the enchantress flying and the aegis cracking.


    The forearms that had cracked the shell were burned and bloodied though. And the spell the demon had dodged. It hadn''t been meant to kill it. It was a cantrip. A quagmire on the ground.


    The Demon God tried to move but his legs were caught. The demon opened his mouth, and Rafe saw it shift bizarrely to look bigger, like a drake''s mouth.


    A beam of something abrasive and purple and brilliant shot toward the enchantress. Her phoenix eye gleamed. Her hands came up in a strange movement of practiced gestures.


    ¡°Spell breaker!¡± she called, and the beam of violent violet froze.


    Then the fragment of reality around the beam broke like it was a mirror. He expected the demon to despair, but the creature just roared and continued to attack.


    The exchanges were fast and brutal. No one gave any quarter. No one withdrew even for a moment. Fights at the highest level were no easy thing.


    ¡°And don''t forget the aura. It can crush you like a bug if I let you feel it. If I let you feel the power that beam exuded even before it left the monster''s mouth.¡±


    Rafe looked for where the voice was coming from. It was nowhere near him. Instead, directly across from where he watched the fight as a phantom, two phantoms stood and watched as well.


    ¡°Monster, mistress?¡±


    ¡°I know what I just said.¡±


    ¡°But the demon race is¡­ They are people too. If anyone had you say things like¡ª¡±


    ¡°They''d call me a racist, yes. It is a truth, however. The demons came from dungeons. They are the last recorded race to have evolved beyond the control of the cores.¡±


    ¡°The last?¡± the girl next to the enchantress asked.


    ¡°It was the beastkin before them. The dragons being the last among them. It is believed we came from dungeons and their ilk, too. We are made of essence after all. All of us.¡±


    ¡°So we were¡­¡±


    ¡°Monsters, yes.¡±


    The girl stopped talking for a time, watching the fight play out in front of them, dragging out. She lost patience almost the same moment Rafe did.


    ¡°Why did you want to show me this mistress?¡±


    ¡°You are a very patient girl. I did not want to show you this. Rather this is not all I wanted to show you.¡±


    She snapped a finger and the scene flashed forward. The enchantress stood and the demon did not. It lay battered and broken and irrevocably dead. The young enchantress stepped over its body. She''d lost her phoenix eye sometime when Rafe wasn''t looking, and her trailing leg had been crushed, flattened like a pancake. One arm had been torn clean off.


    Still, she moved to a distortion of light that had appeared when the demon fell. She dragged herself there, bleeding and broken as she was. Rafe was sure she wouldn''t have gotten up if she allowed herself to fall.


    She touched the distortion, something ethereal slithered up her hand. Its jade purple colour was just a pinch compared to the darkness.


    ¡°A mantle?¡± Rafe breathed.


    No. Not just a mantle. The mantle. The one she''d got after defeating the Demon God in her legacy vision. The vision of a future that had been erased.


    Even the young enchantress was surprised when a vision, a prophetic vision, played out in front of her.


    When guardian-level entities fought, star maps were redrawn. Not on this occasion though. The galaxy they fought in would fall, then rise again in the next instant as immortal fate and immutable destruction faced off at the highest tier. They overdrew on the fabric of reality, destroying it and healing it in the next instant.


    The phoenix and Demon God would eventually tire the fabric of reality. A hole in reality would suck out some essence, the life of the universe. And through that hole, they''d come. The calamity is all Rafe could think to call it. The guardians would be outnumbered. They would fall, having caused their own downfall.


    Then the universe core would be snuffed out.


    The last of the essence - a minuscule amount - runs to avoid its natural enemy, to avoid the approaching calamity that would snuff it out. And then it finds a new place. One where the fuel is ripe. It starts to burn, a flame Rafe had seen once in a vision when the enchantress took the Demon God''s head. The first flame, the flame of origin. The primordial flame that will birth life anew.

 Chapter 35. The Enchantress Eye

    A blue screen popped up in front of the now-shivering enchantress. She looked at the disappearing motes of what would have been the Demon God''s body. She fell on her ass.


    ¡°This is so much worse than she said,¡± the enchantress sighed.


    She grabbed the pulsating entity that was the mantle of authority. Rafe expected something to happen. Nothing did. She sighed again.


    ¡°I''ll need to find my way to you, then.¡±


    She looked up at a set of stairs that had not been there before, then down at her status screen. Rafe was confused. All the gods of Skyholm had existed before the system, from what he remembered. Then he remembered the vision of the phoenix. Something had distracted her. An anomaly. The enchantress. She''d sent a system-like ability to her past self through a time concept.


    ¡°You had the system, mistress?¡± the girl next to the ghostly enchantress watching the vision like him asked.


    ¡°Yes,¡± the god answered easily.


    ¡°Did you¡­ Mistress? Are you the one who created the system?¡±


    He did not get to hear the answer. The young and broken enchantress got her cut-off arm and attached it to its stump. Then she chugged back a shimmering light blue potion that appeared out of nowhere. Some kind of storage ability no doubt.


    She started to heal, her leg popping as it tried to regain its shape. Bits of muscle extended from her shoulder to the arm she was holding. The myriad of broken bones and tiny wounds covering her body started to heal before Rafe''s eyes.


    In the end, her leg was a bloated mess, her arm only attached to her shoulder by strings of muscle, the bone having failed to fuse.


    ¡°Shit! Now I gotta wait for the cool down, and I doubt one more round will be enough.¡±


    She looked at the stairs that had appeared when she killed the young Demon who would be a god. She sighed as she got to her feet.


    ¡°And the climb goes on,¡± she declared before touching the mantle and storing it away.


    She summoned her staff again, and, using it as a cane, started to shuffle toward the stairs. The ghostly enchantress turned to answer her ward, and then the vision shimmered and broke apart. The nothingness of the void returned.


    Rafe stood in the enchantress¡¯ atrium, staring at the woman herself. The woman was frowning at the now dispersed vision.


    ¡°That is not what I meant to show you,¡± was what she said first.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Rafe hesitated. ¡°But now that I''ve seen it, did you create the system?¡±


    ¡°That is not the right question,¡± the enchantress shot back, unperturbed.


    ¡°Alright. How did you create the system?¡±


    ¡°Close, but still irrelevant. You do not need that knowledge, Rafael Kingsley.¡±


    ¡°Then what knowledge do I need?¡±


    ¡°I don''t know. What knowledge do you think you need? And have you the merits to ask for it?¡±


    ¡°Fine?¡± Rafe said, throwing his hands up. ¡°What is the system? Tell me at least that much.¡±


    The enchantress frowned. ¡°It appears you have enough merits to hear this. Alright then, the system is nothing more than a consciousness for the essence. A way to make the essence less chaotic.¡±


    ¡°That answers nothing,¡± Rafe complained, already tired of the non-answers.


    Liam had said the same thing so the information was useless. Then something occurred to him.


    ¡°What is the essence then?¡±


    The enchantress nodded, though her expression did not change.


    ¡°A pertinent question. The essence¡­is like a fire. A natural phenomenon. It requires fuel. Unlike fire though, essence burns the little fuel it has to create more fuel. It burns so bright in the beginning.¡±


    ¡°The primordial flame?¡± Rafe breathed.


    ¡°Good. And do you know what fuel it creates from that magnificent power?¡±


    Rafe shook his head.


    ¡°The universe cores. The origins, I like to call them. From the core, worlds emerge. Worlds the essence pollutes. In areas of high concentration, dungeons build.¡±


    ¡°And from the dungeons¡­¡± Rafe deduced.


    ¡°Yes. Life emerges.¡±


    ¡°So where is the core of the multiverse?¡±


    The enchantress chuckled. ¡°You do not have enough merits to know that. It does not matter though. You will know it in time. It is the reason I have been manipulating everything after all.¡±


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    Okay. Rafe wasn''t going to touch that bait no matter how much he wanted to. He suddenly remembered a burning question he had to ask the enchantress one way or the other.


    ¡°Aeon. The trial world? What is going to happen to it?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± the enchantress frowned. ¡°It is a trial world. It will be reset and reused for the next trial and so forth just like it always has.¡±


    ¡°Oh. But¡­¡±


    ¡°Say what you have to say,¡± the god ordered.


    ¡°You could save them. You could save Aeon. We both know there is more going on here than that being a trial world. Aeon is special.¡±


    The god shrugged. ¡°Those people. The real people died millennia ago. These are not the real people in any way.¡±


    ¡°But they are people!¡±


    The enchantress blinked but did not let any other kind of reaction past her calm mask.


    Rafe shrugged. ¡°I''m willing to agree to whatever you want. To what you''ve been manipulating me to do. Just please, find a way to save them.¡±


    He stared at her, at her emotionless face. He let his determination shine through. He kept his shaking hands to himself. She stared at him in silence for a long moment.


    She sighed as she looked away at last.


    ¡°You fear me? Loathe me even.¡±


    He did not dispute her words. Maybe Samantha and the phoenix thought they were joking when they spewed vitriol against her, but Rafe had taken most of it to heart. He hadn''t seen enough to change his impression so far.


    Sure, she was strong and it was kind of inspiring the way she fought the Demon God and just got up to keep moving. It was also kind of sad what she''d gone through in that tower. She had looked like a child still. That did not change the fact that she was manipulative and calculating and all-around scary.


    ¡°You seem to be mistaken about something. I did not manipulate anything to force you to do what I want. You are going to do it regardless. It is your fate. I knew the moment you got that skill. I only manipulated things to give you the tools you''d need to survive. In fact, I will not even tell you what it is I want from you. You''ll find out at the right time.¡±


    Rafe felt his heart start to freeze. His chest was suddenly heavy, and his breathing stilted.


    ¡°...so¡­ the deal? The people of Aeon?¡±


    ¡°Is not, are not things I''m particularly concerned with,¡± she said as she turned away from him, staring into the void with an impartial face.


    Rafe couldn''t believe it. He stayed there, staring at her back for a long time. This had been his last hope to do something for Aeon. Now¡­ A bit of moisture fell down his face. He scrambled to clean it.


    ¡°I want¡­¡± his voice broke.


    He took a moment to collect himself.


    ¡°I want an eye. The phoenix eye,¡± he said, his voice called.


    The enchantress faced him. He couldn''t tell what she was thinking from her blank expression. She waved her hand and held something small and round in her hand.


    ¡°Just so you know,¡± she said before handing it over, ¡°Noid will be exhausted for a long time after your trial. If you feel so strongly about it, then get strong enough to save that world. Get strong enough fast enough.¡±


    She threw him the eye and disappeared. He was out of her atrium and he''d not even needed to lift a foot.


    ¡°Well, there is that at least,¡± he said bitterly. ¡°Now, how do I use¡­¡±


    The eye got off his palm and floated in front of his face. He jerked backward in surprise, ducking and hiding his head behind his arms, turtling up. It did nothing, just floating in place and pulsing with strong magic. He started to let his guard down, letting go of his head and starting to rise toward the floating object. It shot towards him then, fast, like a bullet.


    He cried out in dismay, then in pain. The eye barreled into his left eye, leaving it smarting for a second. He thought maybe the thing had been forced back but then the pain started anew. The eye drilled into his still-existent eye. He screamed, cried, tried to tear his eye out.


    Then the pain spiked suddenly and his brain could not handle it. Rafe blacked out.


    ****


    He woke what he considered instantly. Only there was no way he was awake. When he opened his eyes there was water. He was in a fast-flowing river, moving along with the tide.


    He did not feel wet. He barely felt the movement. And the water was a blue so pure, it seemed almost cartoonish. It was surreal. And then they came, the water spirits ¡ªmaybe elementals, but that sounded wrong.


    Rafe was almost sure this was a dream, only he couldn''t wake himself up no matter how much he tried.


    The spirit things were shy at first, peering at him from behind water bubbles they didn''t seem to know were one hundred percent transparent to Rafe. When he looked at them they would pop into hundreds of tiny bubbles and disappear.


    He pretended he couldn''t see them, let them sneak up on his slowly drifting body. With soft hands and curious little ringing noises, the little blue spirits surrounded him and talked their heads off. He opened his eyes suddenly. Only a few noticed. Some popped away. Some did not.


    A spirit, brighter coloured than the others, drifted from what passed for ground in this surreal environment. It crossed its hands over its chest, or what passed for hands on a being made of water. Rafe blinked at it, not understanding its intent. It took offense to that. Attacked his nose.


    ¡°Hey, are you the violent one? The others are so cute and you¡ª¡±


    It squeaked loudly in complaint. The others soon joined it as it tried to argue it was merely trying to protect them. Or so Rafe interpreted via his lip reading skill (which he did not have.)


    ¡°This big scary kid came out of nowhere! We can''t trust him! Let me beat him up a little, yeah.¡±


    ¡°You say that about everyone, Leon.¡±


    ¡°You are just violent!¡±


    ¡°He is a good visitor this time.¡±


    ¡°I am not violent,¡± the brute seemed to be getting violent even in Rafe''s little comedy. ¡°I am strong. There is a difference.¡±


    Rafe continued to try and fill in the dialogue and what their little chimes meant.


    Then something came. Something bigger, stronger, ancient even. A large eyeball at the horizon where the river supposedly fed into an unseen mouth. It snapped right onto him and studied him.


    Then darkness fell and there were more spirits though they did not approach the river. Dark spirits. At least darker than the water spirits. They stayed at the edge of the river, studying Rafe very intently. In contrast to the playful yet capricious nature of the water spirits, these were somber, professional, mature even.


    The cloud of darkness they had come from hung over the potion of river Rafe was traveling in.


    Then he saw it, trying to hide within the shadow of the cloud. A golden throne so high it pierced the clouds.


    His thoughts stuttered to a halt as he saw a bunch of shimmering golden¡­faeries, flit around the throne. He was trying to remember something Liam had told him. Trying and failing miserably.


    He was sure Liam had said something about a throne. The throne noticed he''d noticed it, and it shied back a little. He frowned as its colour deemed and some of the faeries¡¯ faces reddened.


    Then it faced him again. It did not have a face, so he had no idea how he knew it was facing him. His thoughts started to slow, stutter, die. And then with a gasp, Rafe Kingsley woke from his dreams.

 Chapter 36. A New System

    The enchantress joined her fellows after her less-than-auspicious meeting with the boy. She kept her sigh inward, keeping her disappointment off her face.


    ¡°Was that necessary, Enith?¡± Sendriel asked.


    The others were looking everywhere but at her, but she could tell they were listening.


    Enith shrugged. ¡°While his impression of me is not ideal, it could prove apt motivation. There is no need to despair.¡±


    ¡°What if he decides not to help just to spite you?¡± Sam asked.


    Enith shrugged. ¡°I doubt it will come to that. He is still a child at heart, naive, but he has a good heart. A strong heart. He will meet others he will protect the multiverse for.¡±


    ¡°You are taking a gamble. It would have been much better to tell him you were going to save that world anyway.¡±


    ¡°No, it would have only made him suspicious. And the motivation from his hatred of me was calculated to be a more effective driving force toward greatness. It was the most efficient decision at the moment.¡±


    ¡°Enith, my love,¡± Xamanthia said loudly. ¡°You need to learn some people skills. I mean, me and the kid fought a climactic battle not six months ago and I''m already his favourite aunt. You on the other hand¡­¡±


    ¡°I think something is happening,¡± Noid interrupted the girl''s talk.


    They watched as the eye left the boy''s hand to hover before his face. They watched the boy turtle up. They watched him rise when he thought the danger was past. They watched him let his guard down. They watched the eye strike, drill into his left eye even as the boy screamed and thrashed and tried to claw his eye out. Then he stopped, his consciousness abandoning him.


    A strong aura fell over the void. Five sets of eyes tracked over to Enith. It wasn''t long after that two more auras came, stood over and watched over the boy.


    ¡°What is it doing?¡± Noid asked.


    Enith did not plan to answer. This had been a gamble. The true gamble. The boy had awakened a skill she''d been looking for for ages, and he''d survived death at the last possible second when the Skyholm legacy appeared. There was no way her plan would fail.


    ¡°I''m not sure I know as much as Enith,¡± Liam said, ¡°but I suppose this is the reason the system didn''t give him any titles and achievement rewards? It had something¡­no, you had something else in mind.¡±


    ¡°Just a hunch,¡± Enith said and did not elaborate more.


    Then the system finished its work and left, and the six gods sat back to watch what would ensue.


    ****


    Rafe woke up with the worst headache he could remember feeling in a long time. Maybe the day Noid had returned his memories all those years ago? Years. He was already getting jaded with time. He thought of years as he had of months before the trial. Mere moments and nothing more.


    The first thoughts in his mind were of the river and the little spirits he''d seen. Then the dark spirits and the little sparkling golden faeries. It was such a weird dream. Rafe had never been particularly interested in faeries or sprites or anything like that.


    Dreaming about them at such a time was¡­


    ¡°My eye!¡± he jolted as his thoughts caught up to his recent memories.


    He unsheathed his shiny sword. There wasn''t much light in this stretch of Void but there was some. A blinking blue light.


    ¡°What the¡­¡±


    It was a system notification. Or rather a slew of them from the number at the top right corner of the envelope icon. He had to see his face first.


    It was shocking! There was barely any visible change to his eye. He did notice there were hints of a golden ring around his left pupil, but one could only see it if they focused heavily. What was more surprising was that his tattoo had grown. Tendrils of it running toward both his eyes now.


    They were black, ashen. It looked like a normal artistic tattoo if done in a bland colour. They stopped right at the bases of his lower eyelids.


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    Then he opened the system notifications, and that''s when the trouble started.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Your achievements have been unlocked.


    Achievement earned: Found the Legacy trial of Skyholm.


    +1000 Fate Points.


    Achievement earned: Unlocked a skill never before seen in the system.


    +10 Willpower. +20 Wisdom .+1,000 Fate Points.


    Achievement earned: You have bonded with the librarian.


    +10,000 Fate Points


    Achievement earned: You have completed the Legacy trial of Noid of the Sword.


    +10 to all physical stats, +10,000¡­


    Achievement system overwritten!


    ¡°What?!¡± Rafe couldn''t help but question when he saw the last notification.


    There were more achievements he could see below it. Hundreds more, but he couldn''t see them. He couldn''t receive all his hard-earned rewards.


    Title earned: Blessed of Noid of The Sword.


    +10¡­.


    Title system overwritten!


    ¡°What the hell is going on?!¡±


    Grand Achievement earned: You have touched upon the concept of fate. You have seen the River of Wyrd. You have seen the Veiled Land of Elysium. You have seen the Unclaimed Throne.


    +1,000,000,000 Fate Points.


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    Congratulations, You have unlocked the hidden paranormal statistic: Luck.


    +5 luck.


    Congratulations: For unlocking the Luck statistic and gaining more than 1,000,000,000 Fate Points below level.1, you have unlocked the quest system.


    Achievement earned: First individual in the multiverse to unlock a quest system before the C-rank.


    +10 luc¡­


    Achievement system overwritten!


    Warning: Due to having unlocked the quest system before the C-grade, user will lose all perks from the Achievement and Title system.


    Would you like to proceed? Y/N?


    Rafe stared at the scrolling screen and couldn''t help but scowl.


    ¡°What the hell is going on?!¡± he queried again.


    He did remember Liam commenting about the fact he hadn''t received any achievements or titles for his feats in the trial, but he had assumed that had to do with the fact the system was blocked. Now though.


    And the system had been watching him, since he first unlocked a skill based on¡­ an achievement of the damn enchantress!


    That was why she was so sure he''d have no choice but to do what she wanted. And whatever she wanted had something to do with the system and those three entities he''d seen in that vision. She said she hadn''t manipulated him for her gain, but¡­


    How else could he have touched the concept of Fate if not for the phoenix feather and eye? Was Sam in on it too? The other gods? What was going on?


    He decided it would be a good time to take a look at his status.


    Name: Rafael Kingsley


    Race: Human (lvl )


    Class: N/A (lvl)


    Health: 210


    Stamina: 270


    Stats.


    Strength: 27


    Agility:  55


    Coordination: 4


    Vitality:  21


    Intelligence:  12


    Endurance:  27


    Wisdom: 20


    Paranormal: Luck: 19


    ???


    The little improvement he saw was from the months of grueling training with Liam. He hadn''t gotten any of the reward stats his achievements had promised him. Also, he did not find any mention of Fate Points anywhere on his status screen.


    ¡°Do I even have a choice but to choose this¡­quest system?¡± he asked the sky.


    Nothing. He sighed as he looked down at the floating blue screen. He shrugged.


    ¡°Well, I don''t even know what the title and achievement systems did anyway, so it''s not like it''s too big a loss.¡±


    He selected yes, and his status screen changed.


    Quest system initializing¡­


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Quest received.


    Objective: Choose a class.


    Reward: Quest points, credits, ???


    ¡°Great,¡± Rafe said with another long-suffering sigh.


    He started to go through his memories of Noid''s instructions. He froze, frowning. The enchantress came up with the class plans, he remembered Noid saying. Was it worth it to choose a different path just to spite her?


    ****


    ¡°So that was your plan all along?¡± the thief asked, aghast.


    The enchantress shrugged. ¡°It was always going to happen. The system did not want to give him achievements and titles because it was planning this from the beginning. I just helped things move along faster.¡±


    ¡°Planning? The system?¡± Noid asked.


    ¡°Well, planning is a strong word. They don''t need to plan. They just have to follow the flow of the river,¡± Enith said.


    ¡°Fate,¡± the phoenix added.


    ¡°He was always going to go to Wyrd. With a lot of the other things happening, well¡­¡±


    ¡°So you want him to fix the river then?¡± Liam asked.


    The enchantress shrugged. ¡°I would want him to fix all of them, but that may be asking too much. For now, though, the one in most need of help is the Veil.¡±


    ¡°Ah, so that''s why she was there?¡± Gerugehn chimed in.


    ¡°So? Why is he locked out of the achievement and title system?¡±


    ¡°Same reason achievements become useless at the D-grade, I''d imagine. And the title system loses potency as early as the E-grade.¡±


    ¡°If it''s not evolved,¡± L


    iam commented.


    ¡°Yeah, but evolving it before the B-grade is a bit¡­¡±


    ¡°It has been done before,¡± Liam commented. ¡°And that means¡­¡±


    ¡°Precedence, yes. Just like the one the boy has set.¡±

 Chapter 37. Class Selection

    Rafe considered not doing what Noid had told him. He wanted to spite Enith. It was his future he''d be playing with if he did that though, so he decided to follow his master''s instructions for now.


    He opened a class selection window that had appeared with the quest.


    Class Options:


    Warrior (+2 str/ agi/ end) per level. (+2 def/ off) per level (adjustable).


    Archer (+1 per, +1 str/ agi/ end/ cog) per level. (+2 off/ ste) per level.


    Mage (+2 wis/ int) per level. (+2 cont/ dens/ regen) per level (adjustable).


    Rogue (+2 agi/ cog) per level. (+2 off/ ste/ spe) per level.(adjustable)


    Healer (+2 wis/ int/ vit) per level. (+2 cont/ dens/ regen) per level (adjustable).


    Cleric (+2 wis/ int/ vit) per level. (+2 fai/ off/ def/ cont/ dens/ regen) per level (adjustable).


    He had six basic classes to choose from, as everyone should on awakening. Some lucky few would have higher tiered options, but again they were few. He already knew what he was going to choose, although the healer and mage classes kind of attracted him with their specifications and everything. He decided he''d take a look at his other options though.


    The Sword Saint (uncommon) (growth) (+4 str/ agi/ end/ vit/ con/ cog) per level. (+4 off/ def/ spe) per level (adjustable).


    He winced as he felt his whole body react to just the name. Was it a shout-out to his first sword technique? He would never know. Unfortunately he couldn''t take that class per his master''s wishes but damn did he want those five stat points.


    The Void Series (Rare) (growth) (+7 str/ agi/ end/ vit/ cog/ wis/ int/ ???) per level.


    Rafe''s eye brows rose as he looked at the new class. There was no added information about it, but was any necessary. It gave more stat points than a rare class should. The class seemed like it had been made for him. What with his bugeoning void affinity. And it would allow him to take any build he fancied.


    Only¡­ he already knew the build he wanted. He might be getting a void affinity or whatever, but magic was the furthest thing from his mind. The class promised a lot of freedom, but sometimes having too many choices was not a good idea.


    Shadow king (Rare) (growth) (+6 agi/ cog/ per/ dex/ str) per level. (+5 off/ ste/ spe ) per level (adjustable).


    Hmmm¡­ A rogue class if he had to guess. And a pretty normal rare class if he had to guess further. What had he done to deserve such a class, hang out with Sam for a few weeks? Then didn''t that mean¡­


    Blooming Guardian (Rare) (growth) (+7 str/ agi/ cog/ end/ vit/ wis/ int/ ???) per level.


    Some classes, although rare, were clearly better than others. If he hadn''t received Noid''s teachings, this class would have been too tempting to pass up on. Having almost five more stat points per level than your average level one was nothing to scoff at. The lack of class specifications bothered him though.


    There were many routes to power in the new universe the system had created. His patrons wanted him to have as many options as possible. He also didn''t see the harm in collecting as much power as he could for now. He needed to collect hidden stats and these class specifications because once he had them they''d be a part of his path forever. They''d be a part of his personalised status.


    He decided to forego looking through the other class options, lest he get tempted. He just knew there would be something better at the bottom of the screen. He felt it in his bones. If he just looked down, he''d find something he would be unable to resist.


    Class selection complete.


    You are now a level 1 warrior. You have unlocked Defense and offense specifications.


    Class skills available.


    He read through a long list of basic skills a warrior class was qualified to have.


    His Aeon''s Sword Mastery was a basic skill, but there was another general sword mastery basic skill. There was one for spear mastery, dagger mastery and all manner of melee weapons. There was even one for shield mastery. Liam had told him in no uncertain terms that he ought to learn to fight without his sword.


    The first thing he chose, to complement his Skyholm''s fighting proficiency was Unarmed combat.


    You have learned the skill Unarmed combat. You are proficient in fighting with your body. (lvl. 1) (Upgradeable skill) optional.


    And now, for another basic skill to complement his melee fighting style. Perhaps something that directly boosted a physical stat. He did already have heavy blow for his strength so that left. His eyes bulged when he found it. Rafe smiled.


    He chose the skill Dash second.


    You have learned the skill Dash. You move faster when the skill is active. Efficiency increases with increase in skill level. (lvl.1) (Upgradeable skill) optional.


    He smiled, already liking this new skill. If he had his own say, he''d only get skills that would complement his sword play. Too bad he''d been forced into getting unarmed combat. Now for his last free skill.


    He was torn. On the one hand, Dodge would be good for training up his class to lean toward a dodge tank kind of evolution. On the other hand, Acrobat was really¡­


    He already had an Acrobat skill once. He had upgraded and cracked it to produce his current Puppeteer''s Rubber Body. He wanted to see what else he could do with the skill, as it had a lot of possible upgrade options according to Liam. He needed to experiment with his skill cracking ability anyway.


    He looked at Dodge for a long time. In the end he decided if he really needed the skill he could train it up. He had been told his advancement would be painfully slow, so he had nothing but time in his honest opinion. He also already had a sufficient defensive skill in Parry and maybe it would be enough for him to get a tank class in the end. He went with Acrobat.


    His skills chosen, Rafe went to read their descriptions but something almost immediately distracted him.


    Class: Warrior (lvl 1)


    Class specs: Offense : 3


    Defense: 2


    Class skills: Dash¡­


    Hmmm? A class screen? His status now had different screens for everything. A status screen showing his level and most stats, one for his class and its specifications and apparently its skills. He also had one dedicated to all his skills and apparently a quest screen.


    He wanted to go through the skill descriptions for his three latest skills in more detail but just then ¡ª


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Your Pseudo-class skill Mimic has awakened. You have unlocked class specifications mana control, mana density, mana regeneration.


    Mimic. (lvl.1) (+1 wis/ int) per level. (+1 cont/ dens/ regen) per level.


    You can temporarily copy any mana skill used in your presence provided it is lower rarity than this class/skill. Only one skill can be copied at a time. Skills copied once can be called upon in the future. Effect of copied skill is half the level of this class/ skill.


    Congratulations: You have unlocked the paranormal attribute Mana.


    Rafe was quiet for a full minute, reading through all the information he''d just received.


    ¡°Wait, provided it''s lower rarity than the skill? But this looks like a basic skill! I don''t see any tags! Is there a rarity lower than basic?¡±


    Then he started to really think about it, but then he threw his hands up in defeat.


    ¡°So this is what I get from the librarian? Liam and Sam both said it was unlikely my skill would be better than his¡­ But this is useless! Unless it can evolve or something, to a rare class or skill or whatever it is at least.¡±


    He continued to look through the pseudo-class skill. It would give him a way to increase his mental stats at least, something he had had no intention of doing unless he was forced to.


    He could now see the kind of advantage people with multiple classes had over him. Heck, even a class and profession meant more stats than someone like him.


    And then there were the class specifications for a mage class. Hmm. Control, density and regeneration. The fine control to manipulate your spells with pinpoint precision. Density probably to give your mana that extra oomph and regeneration to make sure you never run out of mana at a crucial stage.


    He was just guessing of course, but it seemed like density was the equivalent of a warrior''s offense and defense. Building an earthen barrier as protection using dense mana would produce a better defensive effect than using light mana. Exploring how the specifications worked was another task for the near future.


    Anyway, now that he had mana, he could shift the shape of his blade. He had unlocked his mana way sooner than he had expected, based on Liam and Noid''s warnings. He was just about to unsheath the blade when he froze.


    ¡°I''ll have to try and not use the sword for this next little challenge, won''t I?¡± he thought out loud.


    Quest complete.


    Objective: Choose a class.


    Reward: Quest points, Credits, (now spinning).


    ¡°Now¡­spinning?¡±


    That did not sound promising. Not in the least.


    ¡®Ding¡¯  Reward received.


    Reward: 10 Quest Points, 100 credits, Mystery box.


    Something shimmered into existence next to him the same way rewards dropped after one completed a dungeon. He opened the little box to find¡­


    He was speechless. He couldn''t believe what he was seeing.


    ¡°So this was what you meant by random rewards?! You damn stingy bastard sys¡­¡±


    His voice trailed off, remembering what Liam had told him about the system. It was a child of some kind.


    But how could a child be tens of thousands of years old? What the hell were quest points anyway? It didn''t explain anything even after he started spewing vitriol against his quest screen.


    Rafe grabbed the golden earrings from the box and pocketed them in his huge white robes.


    ¡°You could have at least made them less sparkly. Then maybe I could put them on.¡±


    He couldn''t figure out what the hell quest points were, but supposedly they were a replacement for the fate points he hadn''t known he had been collecting. Then there were the credits. At least it sounded like he was a hundred credits richer, whatever that meant.


    He didn''t have any kind of appraisal skill, so he didn''t even know what the damn earrings did. With a heavy sigh, Rafe started his journey out of the void. He had something else to attend to before he''d be free to start tracking a way back to his home planet. And right on cue, his new best friend informed him of his next destination.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ New Quest Received.


    Objective: Ascend the Enchantress¡¯s Training Tower.


    Reward (For accepting): Map ability.


    (For completion): Quest points, Credits, Random.


    ¡°Hmmm? A map ability. That seems like it could be useful. But again with the random rewards,¡± he groaned quietly.


    He studied the quest screen once more, then shrugged.


    ¡°Well, I was going to ascend the tower anyway. I need to grind me a few levels while I''m still in this time dilation.¡±


    He received the ability he had been promised, and it had its own screen, but that wasn''t what took most of his attention.


    He had gained a single level in both classes and race, and his status screen had changed a little since after he had just received the quest system. He was going to be looking at those numbers a lot from now on.


    Because finally he had a tangible way to measure his progress.


    Name: Rafael Kingsley Wilde


    Race: Human (lvl. 1) F


    Class: Warrior (lvl. 1) mimic (lvl. 1)


    Health: 210/210


    Stamina: 270/270


    Stats.


    Strength:      27


    Agility:          55


    Coordination:     45


    Vitality:            21


    Intelligence:     12


    Endurance:       27


    Wisdom:           20


    Paranormal: Luck:     10


    Mana:    200


    ???


    Free stats: 1, 2(Str/ Agi/ End), 1(Int/ Wis)


    Quest points: 10


    Credits: 100


    Class specs:


    Off: 4. Def: 3. Cont: 2. Dens: 2. Regen: 2. (1 free)


    First off, his class specs now also had a summary at the bottom of his status screen. And then he''d also received the class specs for a mage class, probably from his pseudo-class skill.


    Mana scaled with wisdom, if he was getting his guess right. It might have been paranormal, but it was an attribute just like stamina and health, so he probably could put it up with the others. There were people, especially those who went the pure warrior route who never unlocked mana.


    Rafe would have been one of those people if not for the librarian, the lost weapon he had inherited from Liam.


    He needed to distribute his status points, and he was stalling. He wanted to just dump everything into agility, but he did need his stamina. And if his math was right that scaled with endurance.


    Then there was his strength which if he let lag too far behind might make him irrelevant in combat. It would make him hurt his enemies less than a buzzing mosquito.


    He grit his teeth as he put one of his class points into strength and the other into endurance. His race point went into agility. The pseudo-class point went to wisdom. And then there were the class specifications.


    He decided he''d grow both offense and defense equally for now. He''d have to focus on defense when he got close to level ten for his first prospective class evolution, but he could keep them balanced for now.


    As for the magical specifications he decided he''d focus on density and regeneration for now.


    With all that finished, he touched the piece of paper he''d strapped to his left bicep, the ability scroll for a highly modified Storage.


    The reason Sam had asked him to get the Enchantress''s eye was this very skill. He hadn''t gotten a Soul Sight skill from the innate ability Liam had given him, so he needed to cheat.


    Only, he couldn''t quite feel he had achieved anything in that direction. The phoenix eye was probably how he had touched the truth of Fate and unlocked his quest system. It didn''t seem to have done anything else.


    Could the thief have been wrong in her deductions? Maybe the eye of the Enchantress and the Eye of the Sage were not compatible after all?


    Rafe forced the negativity out of his mind. What did he know? He was just a man. Sam was a mortal who had achieved godhood. She obviously knew better than him. He decided he''d trust her experience at least, especially with their next little scheme.


    ¡°Alright. One more objective, and then it''s back to Earth,¡± he declared to the void.

 Chapter 38. The First Room

    ¡®Ding¡¯ You have entered the Enchantress''s Tower.


    He stood in what he would have expected to be the entryway of a Victorian mansion, old and dilapidated and abandoned looking of course. Complete with coatings of dust and visible cobwebs.


    There were three doors on a wall directly in front of the great stone door he''d entered through. He''d been surprised to find opening the door an easy endeavor. The three doors ahead were the same shape and size, but were hewn from different materials, and had gems of different colors fitted into their knobs.


    A red gem was fitted into a door of black stone right in the middle. A green gem was fitted into a wooden door to the left, and a white gem was fitted into a grey metal door to the right.


    The implications were obvious even to Rafe who had never entered a tower before.


    ¡°Colour coded challenges? White seems to be¡­ not the best choice. Green seems too plant themed. Red though? Warning, blood, danger, violence! Red is perfect.¡±


    He didn''t debate with himself too much. If the colour dictated the kind of challenge he''d do, he really didn''t want to get a puzzle or some thing like that as a challenge. A physical challenge was more up his alley. Besides, he needed to get his body up to speed with what his mind had experienced in two different simulations.


    He touched the hilt of his sheathed practice sword. He really would have loved to get in there and get to swinging his sword around.


    He had to be careful about the damn sword mastery skill though, so he held himself back.


    ¡°First, I''ll work on my unarmed combat skill and Skyholm''s Fighting Proficiency.¡±


    He pushed the stone hewn door forward.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Side Quest received. (Only three side quests can be active simultaneously).


    Objective: Kill more than twenty five gargoyles.


    Reward: Quest points. Credits.


    Rafe went to sigh at the annoying prompt but then something unexpected happened.


    First Tower floor entered.


    Room one objectives:1) Survive (Leave the room with your life.)


    2)Struggle (Defeat ten gargoyles.)


    3)Dominate (Defeat twenty gargoyles.)


    Hidden objectives: Find the false wall and the treasure it protects.


    ¡°Huh¡­¡±


    That had come from his quest screen, and he couldn''t make sense of it in the beginning.


    ¡°Is the¡­Does the quest system offer guidance in dungeons? Is it a special feature?¡± he wondered out loud.


    Then he shrugged. It meant little to him either way. He read through the main objectives. Survive seemed like a weak objective, and in that same vein so did the second objective. So the dominate was the best way to clear the room. The best way meant the best rewards.


    Towers did not provide rewards this early though, unless one did not make it far enough up.


    That made sense. He knew from experience adventuring that sometimes you didn''t have to deal with every single monster in a dungeon. Simply sneaking through and going straight for the boss worked at times.


    He already had a quest telling him to defeat twenty five monsters though, so he felt the main objectives of the room were pretty useless. The side objective though. Now that was different.


    Stone cracked in front of him and a monster nestled atop a pedestal started to stir. All around it more monsters woke. Their eyes searched as they rose. They searched until they found him, standing unbothered by the door to the large arena sized room. Going after them felt like it would be too much hudtle, so Rafe waited.


    The quest system might have thought telling him to defeat twenty-five was a burden he would rue, but Rafe had always planned to leave nothing alive.


    He cracked his knuckles as the first gargoyle charged forward amid an explosion of rocks. He took a stance. It reached him. He met its attempted shoulder tackle with an attempted punch.


    His hands were soft. The flesh around his knuckles was grazed right off and his hand was pushed back as the gargoyles shoulder continued ever forward. He couldn''t be sure, but his hand seemed to have bounced off a flickering fiery forcefield.


    Magic? He questioned internally but it felt wrong somehow. He had been n able to see mana with his new racial ability. That was its only advantage over Liam''s, and yet he hadn''t seen any mana from that forcefield.


    The gargoyle''s shoulder impacted his belly and forced all the air out of his lungs even as it carried him off the ground. A second gargoyle was already approaching.


    ¡°Shit!¡± Rafe said once he had enough breath to speak again.


    The fight was going to be a little more difficult than he had expected. How was this the first room of the first floor of a five floor tower? Twenty or so more rooms like this would be impossible.


    Rafe grinned. He fisted both his hands in preparation. Then he started flailing against the gargoyle, raining punches infused with his heavy blow skill. It was fast becoming a favourite of his, with or without his sword.


    He thought it would be neat if he could get an ability like iron skin or the like to prevent the now free bleeding he was suffering from having a soft skin. He shrugged it off as he continued to rain punches on the gargoyle.


    He grabbed one of its wings and tore it off with a last minute application of the strength augmentation of heavy blow. They plummeted from the sky. He hit one of its shoulders so it was holding him less tightly and when he judged the timing right, he squirmed out of its grip and tried to jump away from the impact center.


    He was mid-air when the first gargoyle died with an explosive crash. Flying shrapnel gave him more than a few bruises and wounds.


    He did not get a chance to land as the second gargoyle tackled him before his feet could touch the ground.


    ¡°Great¡­¡± he gritted out. ¡°Seems¡­like I''ll have to fight in the air for a while.¡±


    Three more gargoyles had already finished their moulting and we''re coming after him and his current opponent. Rafe wondered what Noid would think seeing him fight like a savage. What would Liam think? He was basically brawling without any grace whatsoever. And his attacks seemed to hurt him more than they did his enemies.


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    ¡°Maybe I did develop some bad habits with the whole resurrection thing?¡± he thought to himself.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ You have defeated ¡®gargoyle guardian¡¯, level 25.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ You have defeated ''gargoyle guardian'', level 27.


    ****


    ¡®Ding¡¯ You have defeated ¡®gargoyle guardian'', level 29.


    He was only left with one monster at this point, having killed around thirty two of them already.


    It was bigger than its breathren and more black than slate grey. It also held what looked like a mace in one hand. It hadn''t attacked him immediately, instead studying him with hot red eyes that looked like a heated metal at a Smith''s forge.


    He must have been a sight, what with his looking like a victim of a run away truck. He felt like it too. He wanted to temper his body for real, but no one had told him it would be this painful.


    He could handle pain, but he didn''t think he was going to be completing anymore rooms in the state he was in. He had to rest for a while at least.


    The gargoyle charged, and this time Rafe had his sword out. It was still sheathed but he felt more comfortable holding it than not. Besides, it would have been pretty hard cutting these stone monster''s weird fiery forcefield without using any insights. His fighting style was easy to counter. Their extreme defense had almost countered him. Almost. He had had to resort to using the boost his blessing gave him when he held a sword.


    The sheathed blade could act as a blunt tool. It was light but that was where his heavy blow came into the equation.


    His breath was heavy, his stamina well below a quarter by now, his health probably in the reds with all the blood he''d lost. Still, he crossed weapons with the monster, trying to use his sword techniques even with his blade sheathed.


    He needed his body to get used to these movements and soon. It also needed to become his Puppeteer''s Rubber body.


    He hit the towering stone creature on the knee once he entered its guard. The knee cracked in a burst of stone. His soul cried out in agony. He had abused the heavy blow skill, and it was still a basic skill. It couldn''t be used for over two hours straight of fighting. It was getting overloaded.


    He had abused a lot of other skills too. His unarmed combat skill came to mind. And his new dash. He jumped with casual grace as the monster whirled around with its mace clenched in a rigidly lifted arm. It had intended to just swat him away with the momentum of its turn.


    Too bad he''d faced brutes before. And some of those brutes were human. They were way more intelligent. This stone monster was predictable.


    He infused another heavy blow as he descended, crushing one of its shoulders. It transferred its mace to the other hand with practiced ease and it was swinging before he even landed. He tried to use his parry skill. Maybe he succeeded as the attack didn''t touch him but he was still sent flying. The difference in strength was nothing to scoff at.


    He cursed as he rushed to his feet. It was already there, swinging downward. He blocked and angled himself to be pushed into its guard. Only his skill refused to respond when he tried to hit it from close range.


    ¡°Shit!¡± he said even as he gritted his teeth in a bid to prepare.


    He was not ready. With a whoosh, the air was forced from his lungs. Half his chest caved in from the kick straight to his chest. He was in the air, flailing, not feeling half his body.


    He landed in a pile of stones that might have been a gargoyle once. The monster was already charging toward him. In a moment of inspiration, after he realised he could not get up in time, he lifted what should have once been part of a gargoyle''s torso and threw it.


    The monster swatted it out of the air as it continued its charge. But Rafe had found a new answer. He threw as he squirmed backward, trying to slow the monster down. It bought him a second or two when he hit the monster''s head.


    He got to his feet but the monster was already an inch in front of him and swinging. He lifted his blade, then decided he was not ready at the last second. He pointed his sword to a random spot away, then tapped both his movement technique and skill to escape. He was in one spot one moment, and tens of metres away the next.


    The monster was confused for an instance, its stone hewn head turning around mechanically.


    He took the seconds the monster was searching for him to throw up. It was only blood. The system was ringing in his head. He ignored it for now, studying his body himself. With the injuries he saw, there was no hope he''d be doing the next room for at least a year.


    He unsheathed his sword. He had to take things seriously if he wanted to end this fast. He felt the difference immediately, the extra statistics his blessing offered augmenting his rapidly deteriorating body.


    He moved even as the monster finally spotted him. He didn''t bother changing the sword''s shape much. It felt much better holding a sword. More natural. The monster could not keep up with his speed.


    The Dash skill had turned out to be a huge stamina sink. Now he had less than ten percent stamina and his Heavy Blow skill was out of commission for a while. He only had his techniques and his Puppeteer''s Rubber body to carry the day. The gargoyle, while nearly indestructible was only a level¡­


    ¡®Ding¡¯ You have defeated ¡®Arch gargoyle guardian'', level 35.


    ¡°Level thirty five, huh? No wonder the spike in difficulty was quite something.¡±


    And the little fiery forcefield that he definitely wasn''t imagining was definitely a more important factor in that last fight.


    He collapsed right next to the pile of rubble. Half his chest was not working. The last time he''d been in a situation like this, he¡¯d resigned himself to dying. He had been saved by the trial ending. This time there was nothing to save him. Nothing he could see.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Your skill Aeon''s Sword Mastery has reached level 762.


    ¡°Argh¡­¡± Rafe groaned in consternation.


    Your skill Dash has reached level 2.


    Your skill Dash has reached level 3.


    ¡­.


    Your skill Dash has reached level 7.


    Your skill Unarmed combat has reached level 9.


    At least his newest skills had gained some levels too.


    Your skill Aeon Warrior''s trance (epic) has reached level 122.


    Another groan escaped him.


    Your skill Parry has reached level 209.


    Rafe frowned. Two full levels for parry was no joke.


    Your skill Skyholm''s fighting proficiency (rare) has reached level 20.


    Six levels for one of his slowest rising skills. A successful outing if he''d ever seen one. And then the most valuable party.


    Your skill Heavy blow has reached level 221.


    ¡­.


    Your skill Heavy blow has reached level 232.


    Twelve levels in a single fight. It was kind of sad his Puppeteer''s Rubber body had not leveled at all, but he hadn''t used it much in any case. And it wasn''t a basic skill. It was hard to convince himself of his last point when an epic skill had gained a level though, and Skyholm''s Fighting Proficiency had gained a whooping six levels.


    He had been focusing on it though. On it and unarmed combat for most of the beginning of the fight. Rafe stared at his screen, waiting for the next message he knew he should be receiving. He had felt the essence flow into him during the battle. Every enemy he killed fed him experience and yet.


    He had not gotten enough experience to gain a level. A basic class, fighting enemies more than twenty levels above his own. Rafe blanched. Had he underestimated the effect his soul injury would affect his leveling speed?


    He dismissed the screen with a stupefied expression on his face. He had not gained a level. Somehow that information was more important than the fact that he had only one working lung right now. He was about to give in to his despair when another ¡®ding¡¯ notified him of more news from his friendly neighborhood system.


    It was not the stat screen though. It was the quest system.


    Side quest completed.


    Reward: 10 Quest Points. 1 E-grade credit.


    He now had a grand total of twenty quest points. Too bad he had no idea what even they did. And the E-grade credit? It was curious. He had only received one, so why did it feel like a fortune compared to his hundred or so credits already in the system?


    Room objective completed.


    Reward: F-grade healing potion (1), F-grade Stamina potion (2).


    ¡°Oh? That''s new.¡±

 Chapter 39. The Long Grind That Never Ends

    ¡­


    Health: 12¡­87/210


    Stamina: 8/270


    Rafe watched his health slowly tick up from the red. He had been so close to death, and while he was still in the trial he needed to think about the future.


    ¡°With this warrior''s trance skill controlling me, I need to plan before I enter the fight. Otherwise thinking mid-battle is almost never an option. I need to be more careful, damnit! What''s the use of all this experience I''ve cultivated otherwise?¡±


    There had been an implied promise of at least a few resurrections in the tower from the way Sam talked about it. Only, he didn''t know how they worked. Did they work the same way as those from the trial, or different? What if there were conditions to the resurrections? Like the participant has to have at least cleared one room.


    ¡°Argh! Why am I thinking anyway? Let''s finish this room and move on.¡±


    There was the last objective to look into. The hidden objective. And it seemed like there would be loot. He decided not to use his new stamina potions just yet. He forced them into his belt loop, saving them for a more important moment.


    He grabbed a dagger and started to test each of the walls. None of them was hollow.


    He had just tapped on random spots though. He was supposed to look more carefully, he surmised. He went to stretch his body when a sharp pain in his chest reminded him the small blue potion had not been able to completely reset his injuries. He still needed time to heal his bones and deeper injuries.


    He sighed as he surveyed the room. It was a very large room. He doubted he would have been able or willing to search its length if his quest system hadn''t told him what was going on. He took a knee and prepared to go through the length of the room.


    It was on the third wall that he finally found a hollow. He punched through the plaster to find a small hidden room. It was dark inside. He had to squint a few times while his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the room. Then he saw it, the covered chest in a hidden corner of the room.


    There were shelves around it. Filled with scrolls and books and tapestries he couldn''t see clear enough because of the damnable lighting. But he had eyes only for the chest. Chests were good. They held treasure most of the time. They could also be traps but he had a hard time imagining this particular one was trapped.


    He opened it. Then he sighed in disappointment. The only thing in there was a huge warhammer made of stone.


    ¡°A stone themed floor. Should have figured.¡±


    The hammer looked heavy. He went to lift it, not really expecting it to budge. It did.


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Hidden objective completed.


    Reward: Appraisal skill scroll.


    Rafe frowned as he read the notification. The quest system was being awfully helpful all of a sudden. The random rewards he''d received for his first quest were useless to say the least, but all the rewards he was receiving for the objectives of the tower climb were very useful. Health and stamina potions? An appraisal skill scroll? What had happened to the stingy system he was starting to love to hate?


    The skill scroll shimmered into being next to him and he wasted no time opening and reading it.


    You have learned the skill Appraisal (lvl.1). You can now see the qualities of an item if you focus on it.


    He wasted no time in studying the new hammer he''d received.


    Hammer of plundering (lvl.30)


    +25 offense, +0 defense.


    Enchantment of lightness.


    The name aside, it was an interesting piece of equipment, boosting his offense specification almost five times over. It was enchanted to be light. No wonder he''d been able to carry it so easily. All in all, he felt it was a pretty weak piece of equipment, but it would do for the rest of this stone floor.


    He spent a few hours in the room, rifling through the old scrolls and tomes for anything interesting. He found nothing of value, but his health had ticked up by the time he was done.


    He opened the door to the next room once his stamina had reached over three quarters its full level. A strong wind hit him right in the face, right before a mini-sand storm bathed his body. Some particles even got into his open mouth, open from surprise.


    He was in some kind of desert. Nothing but fine sand as far as the eye could see. He sputtered, trying to expel the sand from his mouth.


    ¡°Argh! What in the void is this room anyway? And should it even be called a room anymore? I don''t see a door.¡±


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    ¡®Ding¡¯ Side quest received.


    Objective: Defeat an elder sand elemental (lvl.45-)


    That was interesting in its own way. It seemed his whole combat style was going to be tested in this room. Fighting beings of magic like this had not been easy the few times he had done it in the trial. He had to find some kind of core to kill them.


    They would have the whole terrain on their side.


    Room objective: Survive until a portal to the next room opens up. Next portal ( 2 hrs 27 mins).


    Defeat the sand monarch(lvl.55)


    Hidden objectives: Defeat unique elementals. Unique elementals defeated.


    There were two room objectives this time, and again he only had to fulfill one condition to proceed. If it was possible to hide, it would have been a one hundred percent valid way to get the required reward from his quest system.


    Not that he intended to hide. He had a brand new weapon. He wasn''t going to improve his unarmed combat a lot in this room, but his Skyholm''s fighting and heavy blow were going to be abused again. And his earth shattering technique worked wonders with such weapons, he knew. He''d seen the dwarves dive with their war axes and hammers and greatswords. And then he had his racial ability, the gift from the first Skyholm which seemed all but useless at its current level.


    He rolled his neck as the first elemental started to form. This time he''d try to go one at a time.


    The elemental was like a tiny localised storm. There was a shape in the centre, probably where its core was located, but the rest of it was just swirling sand. Rafe shielded his eyes as he tried to track where the core was.


    ¡°Perfect,¡± he said when he was sure.


    He pointed his hammer in that direction. He used his movement technique in conjunction with his Dash skill. Then he was there. The elemental acted on instinct, trying to concentrate the storm on where he was.


    When that failed, it tried to retreat into the sand, but his hammer was already descending.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ You have defeated sand elemental level 15.


    ¡°Level 15? That seems like bullying somehow.¡±


    There was nothing he could do about it though. He shrugged and went hunting.


    ¡°So that is one of the unique elementals, is it?¡±


    He was hiding behind a dune he hoped was high enough to hide him from the towering thing of black sand. There was lightning in this sand elemental¡¯s storm. It looked like a hybrid lightning and black sand elemental. Only, there was no black sand in this desert. It was all yellow. He looked down at his quest screen.


    Room objective: Survive until a portal to the next room opens up. Next portal (00 hrs 15 mins)


    He had killed hundreds of elementals, maybe, though he hadn''t been counting. He hadn''t yet found an elder elemental though, or a unique one, let alone the strongest elemental according to the hidden objective.


    ¡°Well, I''ve been itching for a fight where I need to lean heavily on my racial ability. Seeing fluctuations in mana is the one thing it seems to be an improvement on Liam''s.¡±


    He looked around, trying his best to make sure this fight would be a one versus one affair. He did not intend to repeat his experience from the first room. Since most of the elementals he''d been fighting so far were pretty weak, he''d been using his heavy blow rarely. Now it was time to abuse it again. And his Puppeteer''s Rubber Body as well.


    He felt the trance come over him as he charged in. Then he was evading bolts of lightning even with his eyes closed. Once they got a few inches from his body, he could track them. He could avoid them. The sharp sand particles pelting him were a whole other ball game though.


    He imagined a future where his agility had grown to an extent that dodging rain was not an issue. A very unrealistic dream, but hey, magic.


    The elemental''s consciousness noticed him. Its attention was cutting. It concentrated the storm on him. A wall of sand was hit by lightning and turned to glass as it approached him.


    ¡°Oh! Hello?¡± Rafe murmured in confusion. ¡°Is it some kind of half-breed? How do they even¡­How are they born?¡±


    He managed to jump out of the way. Then a sand spear came at him from the creature''s core. Not only that but the fallen glass shattered and the particles joined in on the storm ravaging him.


    ¡°Gods, what a fight!¡± Rafe screamed in amazement.


    He hefted his hammer, pointed it at the core. There was a chance he''d be hit by a bolt, but he judged the risk worth it. The bolt missed him by only a hair''s breadth, but he was there in the next moment.


    A sand barrier came into being next to the creature''s core, but Rafe''s raw strength was enough to power through it.


    There was that yellow barrier that he''d noticed in the first room again, but for some reason it had been weaker in the elemental''s case. This one¡¯s barrier was stronger than most, but then his hammer produced a sputtering of similar flames as it burst the little barrier like a bubble.


    He almost sighed in disappointment at how weak the creature was. There was no chance he was completing more than one of his objectives in this one fight.


    Then the ground below him changed. He found himself sinking. His hit on the core missed. And then the core was moving.


    ¡°Oh, no you don''t!¡± Rafe pointed his hammer, extricating himself from the quick sand with his movement technique and skills combined.


    It was an unorthodox way to do it, but if it worked, Rafe had no complaints.


    He had to keep his eyes closed the whole fight for fear of the cutting sand getting to his eyes, instead abusing his spatial-temporal awareness like he never had before. He couldn''t see more than three inches in a circle around his body, but that was enough to avoid any critical attacks.


    He caught up to the withdrawing core. With his eyes closed, the creature looked like a cat to his ability. He hit it, the creature flew, bounced off the sand for a few inches. He did not give it time to mobilize.


    He hit again, using his heavy blow skill this time. It took almost five heavy blow infused hits for the thing to die. He hadn''t used the ability too much in this room so far so it didn''t act up. The creature died although it had taken more than the normal ones.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ You have defeated, desert lightning queen (lvl. 46).


    Hidden objective achieved. Your hammer has received a temporary lightning attunement.


    Rafe smiled as he looked at his quest screen. He had finished two objectives with that fight. But he had failed one.


    Room objective: Survive until a portal to the next room opens up. Next portal ( 9 hrs 5 mins).

 Chapter 40. Under The Sea

    Nine hours was a long time, it turned out. It wasn''t even five hours later when the portal opened up again.


    ¡®Ding¡¯!


    The system called for his attention in its usual way.


    You have defeated ¡®Sand Monarch¡¯ level 55.


    And he had completed all his objectives with perfect scores. Except the very first of course, but it had only been an alternative anyway.


    The monarch had ambushed him while he fought another of the specials, as he''d decided to start calling the mixed elementals, or rather as the system called them.


    Your Skyholm''s Fighting Proficiency has reached level 27.


    Your skill Heavy blow has reached level 238.


    Your skill Dash has reached level 13.


    Only three skills had leveled up this time, which made sense given he hadn''t used a lot of skills and most of the elementals were below level twenty.


    Your class warrior has reached level 2. 2 stat points gained. 2 spec points gained.


    Your pseudo class skill mimic has reached level 2. 1 stat point gained. 1 spec point gained.


    Your race has reached level 2. 1 free stat point gained.


    ¡°It took me demolishing a whole population to gain one measly level. This pace for a basic class will not be tenable. I mean, these creatures are millions of levels ahead of me. I should be level ten by now.¡±


    He couldn''t make sense of it. Had Liam miscalculated just how much the injury had affected him. He should be half as slow as the average at leveling, shouldn''t he?


    You have completed a Side Quest.


    You have completed room objective.(1)


    You have completed hidden objective.(1)


    Rewards: 1 quest point, 10 credits, health potion (1), stamina potion (1), class upgrade orb.


    One quest point? That was hardly consistent. And there were only ten credits this time. He''d used all his stamina potions in this room, and getting only one was kind of a bummer. He didn''t have to use his health potion immediately this time, which was a plus.


    As for the class upgrade orb? He studied the small marble-like thing. It was a bit bigger than a marble but it was identical to one in every way. It had a transparent and thick glass like outer wall and something at its core. It seemed to be swirling and pulsing with many colors.


    ¡°Essence¡­¡± he breathed out.


    He didn''t know how he knew, but he was pretty sure that was what it was.


    Class upgrade orb (common).


    Enables a user to choose the direction of their class evolution once they reach the required threshold.


    His new skill was already coming in handy. He frowned down at the orb though, not quite sure if that was all it did. It seemed a pretty shit reward for all the success he''d achieved in the room if he was being honest.


    He already knew what direction his class was supposed to take next, and if he didn''t get the option for a dodge tank he''d just have to take off a few weeks to train and force the option to appear.


    Maybe the orb was rare and expensive in the outer multiverse? He didn''t know a lot about the multiverse, but he was pretty sure with his quest system he was not going to be broke.


    ¡°Maybe I''ll even be richer than my parents in the system era?¡± he considered out loud.


    He stared around the continent sized room of the tower one more time before he moved on.


    The third room had rock flinging cyclops. They did not have magic, and all they depended on was their brute strength. It was possible they were strong against magic users. Their eye beams were completely useless and totally discounted by Rafe as they required a target to stay in one place for a long time.


    The reactive shielding, as he''d taken to calling the weird force field that acted as a barrier, was disrupted by his hammer releasing similar energy. He didn''t know what it was though.


    Flitting around was Rafe''s whole style. Suffice it to say he grossly countered the room''s denizens and moved on without using any of his potions. He gained one more of each potion, and a rare one hundred quest points and one hundred credits. He also received five free stat points.


    ¡°I can get stat points as rewards for completing quests?¡± he thought, thinking of just how broken the quest system was turning out to be.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    He kept in mind that it was not normal to have the quest system awakened at low levels like he did. It was normal at higher levels though. Something he would have to investigate once he headed into the multiverse.


    He was still thinking when he fell into the water. He panicked almost instantly. He knew how to swim, but the water had come from nowhere, and he was already floating, everything all around him dark. He didn''t know how deep he was and which way was up and ¡­


    He was panicking. He sealed all his air holes tight with a flex of his consciousness. His lungs were starting to burn but he couldn''t allow the water in. He flailed as he tried to ascend, to move.


    There was no change in scenery. His grip on his air holes slipped with every passing second. Then he saw the light. It was so far. He would never make it in time.


    He sighed in resignation. It was time to test that whole resurrection mechanism this tower employed. He let go. Water rushed in. He prepared for the pressure in his lungs. The pressure he well remembered from a few accidents. There was nothing. He could breathe underwater.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Side Quest received.


    Objective: Survive the sirens¡¯ call.


    Room objective (s):1. Go to the light


    <ol start="2">


    <li> Reach the light in an hour. (59 mins left)</li>


    <li> Reach the light in half an hour. (29 mins left)</li>


    </ol>


    Hidden objective: Slay five elder sirens. (0/5)


    There had been five lightning attuned unique sand elementals in the second room. Only three had given his weapon their attunements on their death, but he''d discovered he could use the temporary attunement only once. He had received a lava attunement from one lava cross breed, and he had used it to great effect in the cyclops room. He only had two lightning attunements left on his hammer, but that would have to count for at least two siren kills.


    The thing about the hidden objective was, he would get his reward even if he didn''t kill five sirens. The objective did not say at least after all. When he''d killed the first unique elementals, the objective had been marked as complete, even if it had said twenty two. Five sirens was only necessary for a perfect score.


    He looked around, trying to spot if any were about to attack him. It was still dark, forbidding. It was their mana he sensed first. With his eyes effectively blinded, he decided to depend on his aura senses and his racial ability.


    Too bad his racial ability even if he pushed it to barely controllable limits couldn''t stretch more than six inches from his body. He¡¯d also never sensed an underwater creature before. What his aura senses returned confused him.


    They returned feelings of home and frolicking in a field of poppies and family and everything Rafe wanted that was not violence. His aura senses urged him to unbuckle his sword belt and never use the instruments of death again. The surrounding aura was one of peace, tranquility, belonging.


    Then his racial ability noticed the incoming sound magic. He tried diving out of the way but there were too many waves coming at him from different places. He felt it when they hit him. He felt the fight start to vacate his body.


    In one last bid of desperation, Rafe used quick draw on his sword and stabbed himself in the thigh. Something slipped through his aura senses then. Something reeking of hunger and blood.


    Rafe turned, trying to track its movements. That was when he realised a problem. He might be able to breathe, but his movements were still pretty much constrained as they would be in normal water.


    ¡°Shit!¡± Rafe cursed as the shape of a disgusting looking leathery sea creature appeared in his ability¡¯s eye.


    ****


    ¡°Alright, I''m gonna call it. Enith, you are the total worst,¡± Sam complained.


    ¡°I agree. What is the point of torturing the boy like this?¡± the first Skyholm asked.


    Enith shrugged. ¡°He kind of pissed me off with his totally unwarranted disgust for me.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but no one likes you, En,¡± the thief spoke, very reasonably in Noid''s estimation.


    ¡°I just think it''d be a shame if he reached the top without unlocking the eye. You went through all the trouble of giving him a plan that he can''t even yet use,¡± the enchantress answered Sam.


    The thief gave her a withering glare. ¡°So this whole quest system business was not the only reason you wanted him to have your eye then, was it?¡±


    The enchantress did not answer, just looking at Sam with the most placid expression.


    ¡°Dammit! And I thought I was being oh so clever too. You had me in the palm of your hand the whole fucking time. Am I really the greatest thief ever?¡±


    ****


    Rafe extricated himself from the corpse of the juvenile sea dragon, as he''d decided to call the creatures that seemed to follow the sirens around. The song hadn''t faded entirely, but he found that a bite or claw from the monsters helped keep him on the straight and narrow.


    He was using his arms to fight for now, finding it quite hard to use any kind of tool in this environment. An alarm went off in his head, and he felt the temperamental part of his racial ability activate. He pushed himself backward as a spear sheared through the space he''d just been in.


    A muscular creature appeared. Humanoid but still green and with fins for lower limbs. Its upper limbs, and especially its hands were reptilian with webbed digits and its mouth was shaped like that of a crocodile.


    He saw it in black and white with his ability as his eyes were still pretty much useless.


    He wished that was different though. He wished he could see just a little more clearly. He wished there was another way he could see except the makeshift options he was using. Sure, his aura skill was over leveled hence his control of its secondary abilities, but it was still just a basic skill.


    Most of his skills were stronger than normal, but they were basic skills one and all. He needed more tools if he was to survive encounters like these in the multiverse.


    The creature attacked, Rafe adjusted his movements to face a more sapient warrior. He had fought a better spear wielder unarmed before in Liam, so it wasn''t an impossible fight. Only he could see back then, and his movements weren''t constrained. He dodged left, the spear nicked him a bit.


    He tried to move in, his movements were telegraphed to the more experienced water mover. He received dozens of wounds in just as many seconds. He could feel the schools of underwater predators at the edges of his senses. They were being attracted by his free flowing blood. And there was not much he could do about it now as he was in the middle of combat.


    He was slowly getting used to the monster''s patterns though, slowly learning to interpret the information his abilities gave him. He only wished he could see more. And that was when it happened.


    The creature before him lit up like a bonfire. And he could see the other creatures floating after his blood too. And he recognised one of the sirens. He could see their very souls.

 Chapter 41. The Monsters We Kill

    ¡°Look at him,¡± Sam said, sounding awestruck. ¡°His eye is gleaming.¡±


    ¡°It is, isn''t it?¡± Noid said in a similarly awestruck voice.


    ¡°Ha!¡± Liam said, looking at the smug enchantress with true respect.


    She did not say anything. She instead watched as her plans came into fruition. Sometimes the enchantress forgot how clever she could be. She forgot that she had grown up in a tiny and secluded village, but had somehow grown to become one of the most influential people even in the current iteration of the multiverse.


    ****


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Your racial ability Eye of the Void Sage(f) is reacting to external stimuli.


    You have gained the ability spell breaker (f). You are able to read spell formations and dispell them. You are able to copy and learn spell formations and circles and arrays¡ª


    Warning: This ability is incompatible to the user.


    Energy required to temporarily seal this ability. If no sufficient energy is provided, the user''s life force¡ª


    Sufficient energy provided.


    Your racial ability Eye of the Void Sage(f) has mutated into Spell seeing Eye of the Void Sage(f). You gain insight into how magical constructs work.


    The whole slew of notifications was a rollercoaster ride. Rafe noted that he was still receiving energy from the legacy trial. It would be dangerous to go through such evolutions once he left.


    The second thing he noted¡­


    ¡°Huh? Could that be the Soul sight ability Sam wanted? It somehow feels wrong. Souls are magical constructs?¡±


    Even as he was thinking out loud, he was in the middle of a fight. Now that he could see a bit more, it was much easier to evade while he read through his notifications.


    ¡°I suppose it''s time to end this farce,¡± he said to himself as he danced backward, leading the spear beast into the hordes of monsters he knew were surrounding them.


    The beast tried to retreat at the last second, but shifting its attention from Rafe for that fraction of a second was all he needed to get in close. He tried to strike, bounced off a yellow force field.


    Rafe frowned. The beast came for him in retaliation. There was a reason Rafe had been trying to get the beast into the crowd of others, and it wasn''t to use the other beasts to attack it.


    The beast was on him and trying to pin him. Rafe was the better combatant, he thought, but even when he got past the beast''s guard, that shimmering fiery barrier that every damn beast seemed to have denied him his rightful hit. The other beasts came in closer. Rafe had no intention of being hemmed in.


    He unslung his hammer from his back.


    ¡°If at least some of the rules of physics apply then¡­¡±


    He released one of his attunement charges. Then he swung it at the annoying beast, using his hammer to fight the fiery barrier even as the lightning struck. Lightning snaked out like electricity, thinning the horde around him considerably, burning the annoying beast outright.


    With that thing dead, he shifted his attention to the few mermaids he''d stunned.


    He knew mermaids were supposed to be beautiful women with their lower limbs replaced with caudal fins, but he couldn''t see these ones. Only hear them. He could see their souls now though, and they were ugly, shriveled husks of things. They were red and misshapen. They did not match the clean, calm and peaceful aura they were projecting with all their might.


    Die, he cried as he swam past. The horde of monsters recovered fast. Too fast. He only managed to kill three mermaids and then he was swimming at top speed to reach the light. They were faster than him under water.


    He fought as he ran, collecting more and more wounds, losing more blood as he went. Then a siren came at him from nowhere with a ragged uncharacteristic screech. It shocked his ears. He might have even burst an eardrum.


    She fell upon him with sharp claws and teeth he had not heard of in his early mythology lessons back on earth. He brawled with the creature, all the while willing the light closer.


    She was a dangerous opponent. The kind who was ready to die as long as they took their opponent with them. She was like a berserker. Rafe normally had no difficulty dealing with a brute.


    This time was different though. She had ambushed him, injured him on top of all his other injuries, and taken all the initiative and momentum of the fight. Not to mention they were in a not so neutral environment. Yeah, Rafe was not having the best fight ever.


    Then they reached the light, and it took him to the next floor.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Side Quest complete.


    Room objective: Go to the light completed.


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    Hidden objective: Slay five elder Sirens. (3 / 5) completed.


    Processing rewards.


    Only, the struggling water monster had come with him. Now that he could see her better, she looked young. Like a teenager. Like he had when he first entered the trial. Like he still did now, somehow, even though he felt much older internally.


    Out of water now, she was visibly struggling with both breathing and trying to claw more holes into him. She had a shapely face, very pale although now visibly reddening. There were hints of scales on her cheeks and her eyes were more reptilian than human. She had sharp needle like teeth and her hair was green interspersed with a few whitelocks.


    All in all, ugly was not quite the description Rafe would have gone with. He would probably have chosen something like¡­


    ¡°Different¡­they definitely look different.¡±


    And then she reached forward, moving over his immobilised body and sinking her fangs into his neck.


    When he woke she was already dead. It was the first indicator he had of resurrections in the tower not being quite the same as those in the trial. The second was his exhaustion and series of very serious phantom pain. Instead of attacking solely his head the pain ravaged every part of his body.


    Rafe looked at the dead girl next to him. She had been angry. She had been so angry when she came after him. Had he killed someone important to her? Maybe her mother? Rafe remembered something the enchantress had said about dungeons and life. If life in the multiverse came from these dungeons, then were there creatures stuck mid-evolution already and just waiting for the right time to come out into the multiverse proper?


    How did the creatures come out in the first place?


    There were traces of dried up tears rolling down the girls cheeks, and her now lifeless eyes stared at him with undeniable blame. He closed her eyes for her.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Rewards assigned.


    Rewards: 10 Quest points, 100 credits, wave breaker spear( lvl. 55), health potion (1), stamina potion (2).


    Your class warrior has reached level 3. 2 stat points obtained. 2 spec points obtained.


    Your pseudo class skill mimic has reached level 3. 1 stat point obtained. 1 spec point obtained.


    Wave breaker spear.


    +50 off, +5 def. +100 cont( water magic)


    Enchantment of water element affinity.


    He studied the mineral rock hewn shaft, the tip made of some blue metal he had yet to encounter. His metallurgy skill returned nothing actionable about it.


    ¡°It''s a big multiverse, isn''t it?¡±


    With only the metals he''d gleaned from a small planet - that had been admittedly expanded to include races that didn''t exist there originally - he had a lot less knowledge than he should. It was still a basic skill, after all. And it was the kind of skill that only grew as he learned more about metals and how to work them. Their melting points and the like.


    He wondered if not having a profession related to the skill would hamper its development too much.


    He was trying to distract himself from the corpse next to him, and in that spirit decided to distribute the stat and spec points from his level ups. It seemed that wasn''t in the cards though.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Final room entered.


    Side quest obtained.


    Objective: Defeat as many rock golems as you can before beating the floor boss.


    1.(0 / 25)


    2.(0 / 35)


    3.(0 / 55)


    Rewards: Depends on level of completion.


    Room objective: Defeat the floor boss.


    Hidden objective: Push the boss to use its fledgling concept ability.


    ¡°Shit! Now that is a distraction. A concept ability. So¡­insights? Past level fifty five obviously. Close to the E-grade, probably.¡±


    Rafe decided there was no way he was going into this fight without every single advantage he could call upon. He decided to distribute his new stats right away. And then grind out the rock golems as par his side quest to hopefully gain another level before he had to fight the floor boss.


    ¡°Huh? Am I scared? Maybe I shouldn''t go with the red gem for my next floor?¡±


    Name: Rafael Kingsley Wilde


    Race: Human (lvl. 3) F


    Class: Warrior (lvl. 3), mimic (lvl.3)


    Health: 210/210


    Stamina: 280/280


    Stats.


    Strength: 28


    Agility: 56


    Coordination: 45


    Vitality: 21


    Intelligence: 12


    Endurance: 27


    Wisdom: 21


    Paranormal: Luck: 19


    Mana: 210


    ????


    Free stat points: 4(str, agi, end, vit) 2(int, wis). 7


    Quest points: 131


    Credits: 1 E-grade, 310. (1,310).


    Class specs:


    Off: 4. Def: 3. (4 free). Cont: 2. Dens: 3. Regen: 2. ( 2 free).


    He had seven free stat points. His eyebrows shot up, right until when he remembered he''d gained five free points as a reward before from the golem room.


    He continued to focus on his mana density, pumping it up to five. His offense and defense both shot up by two points.


    Then his stat points. Of course all his free mental stats went into wisdom, bumping his mana to 230. His race points went to agility and coordination. Then he put one of his class points into agility, one into strength, and two into endurance

 Chapter 42. Stuck in The Mud

    Stamina: 290


    Strength: 29


    Agility:  60


    Coordination: 48


    Endurance: 30


    Wisdom: 23


    Mana: 230


    Off: 6. Def: 5. Dens: 5.


    Rafe tried out his new map ability as he traversed the island like room. It was an island standing in the middle of an endless white expanse. He was growing jaded to the fantastical, in his own opinion as someone who''d once lived in a nonmagical world.


    The map screen was divided in two. One part showed the schematics of the whole tower but only named a third of the bottom floor. The parts he had explored so far. It also marked the room just ahead of the one he was in. There were three floor configurations to choose from. He was in the fifth room of one if these floors, hence why only a third of the first floor was marked.


    ¡°A safe room, huh?¡± he asked as he looked at the room ahead of the one he was in.


    The other half showed almost three quarters of the island he had been exploring in his bid to try and gain a level before he faced the big boss. He had been unsuccessful, but he knew he was close. He was going to level up again after the boss fight. Especially considering how much stronger than him the monster was.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Your skill quick draw has reached level 192.


    Your skill Parry has reached level 211.


    His least used skills in combat had grown just a little. Then there was the one he was sure was going to give him the most trouble.


    Your skill Acrobat has reached level 5.


    With how Acrobat was similar to Puppeteer''s Rubber body, Rafe wasn''t surprised it was growing slower than his other new skills even when he focused on it. Getting it had been a kind of experiment anyway, so it wasn''t a big disappointment.


    Your skill Unarmed combat has reached level 13.


    He had been using less of it in the last few rooms, but it had somehow managed to grow a little.


    Your skill battle intent (aura) has reached level 297.


    Yeah, he had no idea how that worked. It was very passive, after all. Even more than Acrobat and Puppeteer''s Rubber Body.


    Your skill Puppeteer''s Rubber Body (uncommon) has reached level 51.


    On top of being an uncommon skill, it shared its origin with his Acrobat skill, so he wasn''t shocked it was growing slowly.


    Your skill Adamance of the blade (???????) has reached level 2.


    ¡°Huh?¡± Was all Rafe could think to say.


    Then the most valuable suspects.


    Your skill Skyholm''s fighting Proficiency has reached level 29.


    Your skill Heavy blow has reached level 245.


    He quickly riffled through his skill screen to see which skills were lagging. He frowned. His map ability did not have a level or anything, just like his racial ability. His appraisal skill was still at level 1. Then there was Sword''sman¡¯s footwork, Steady footing, Survivalist and Physical fitness. Not to mention Black smith and Metallurgy.


    He wondered if they would get some kind of penalty to leveling speed since he did not have a dedicated class or profession, but ultimately just shrugged and left that up to fate. He looked at his map again, looking at that bloated out centre ring.


    ¡°Why is it not like google maps?¡±


    It could have been like that, in his humble opinion. The system was like a satellite watching over the whole multiverse, right? The ability should have been a guide for his upcoming foray into the multiverse. Instead he got a reminder of places he''d already visited and more often than not would never return to.


    ¡°It''s not like it can map the void?¡± he said questioningly.


    Because if it could, then he''d know exactly where in the void to find the enchantress when the time came for their clash over Aeon''s fate.


    He shrugged. That kind of thing was so far in the future, he couldn''t even imagine it. He was already having a hard time leveling as an F-ranked human. How much more difficult would it become once he advanced? It might take months to gain a single level. Years even.


    ¡°But I have the time dilation advantage,¡± he thought slowly, truly trying to think through Sam''s reasons for encouraging him to make use of this tower. His Adamance skill.


    Few were the dungeons were time dilation was a thing. So was it that towers had time dilation? Enith had been climbing a tower in the vision he saw of her fighting the Demon God. And she had reached the S-grade at a relatively young age of twenty-five. Practically unheard of.


    Could he be like her? Could he blow through the grades in only a few years of normal time? Somehow he knew it would not be that easy.


    When the essence gave someone an opportunity based on precedence, it was often weaker than the original. Liam had told him as much.


    Besides, he had the whole soul injury issue to deal with. His leveling was so slow it was depressing. Once his skills were upgraded and their leveling speed was halved¡­he would know true desperation.


    ¡°Still, it doesn''t matter. There are a hundred ways to progress in the multiverse. I''ll just focus on my truth if all else fails.¡±


    And for that matter, Rafe decided it was high time he stopped stalling and finished the damn floor.


    ****


    ¡°What will you have him do on the next floor?¡± Noid asked Enith.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ¡°Depends on what he chooses,¡± she replied with a shrug.


    ¡°No it doesn''t!¡± Liam and Sam said at the same time.


    ¡°Fine,¡± Enith said with a shrug. ¡°I want him to work on his aura a little bit, if he chooses that kind of room. I''ll bait him until the last floor if I have to.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Sam said. ¡°Is it because his aura skill seems so close to a breakthrough of some sort?¡±


    Liam and Enith stared at each other with frowns. Liam had received permission from Rafe to access his skill information even after he left the trial, though the boy didn''t know he''d given it. Obviously sharing someone''s private information was not cool, but the Enchantress could be convincing at times.


    ¡°Not exactly. See, if he was unaware of the skill level, he''d just ignore it and the skill would just continue to level upwards like it did in the trial. Now that he is aware his condition is abnormal, he''ll probably subconsciously create thresholds for all his skills to evolve,¡± Enith explained.


    ¡°That¡­ could be dangerous,¡± Liam said with a thoughtful nod. ¡°It''s lucky you had a room that would force him into this early. There is a lot we don''t understand about how his skills work. He needs to learn these things too. In a safe controlled environment.¡±


    ****


    Rafe panted as he waited for the boss he''d just downed to rise again. Somehow, he knew the fight was going to get a lot tougher. Fighting someone with a concept ability without even an insight of your own was¡­ Still, the ability should be at a low level.


    It was a mud elemental. Rafe watched the puddle of sludge flow upwards and into the shape of a golem. This was the floor boss.


    Rafe thought a straight up earth elemental should have been stronger, only¡­


    He thrust forward with his spear, blew a hole in the creature''s gut. The creature stumbled back a little, righted itself again even as the hole filled back in.


    He studied the mana and frowned. He was taking the time to train his racial ability to distinguish different mana types. There was something wrong though. He could also see the internal energy of magical constructs now, so he should have been able to see the core.


    ¡°Huh? Which one is its core? It should be the central one, but that''s the smallest one. And what''s with the mana?¡±


    The creature finished reforming. There were dark pits in the position eyes should have been. A hole formed in the place where a mouth should have been, and the creature screamed.


    Rafe thought it was fine until the sound froze his body suddenly, almost breaking his ear drums from how. The creature barreled towards his frozen form.


    Its gait was unique. Its legs did not move up and down and forward. They flowed on the earth, like the way a shadow moved. It was unimaginably fast and reached Rafe before he could get his body under control.


    Instead of flying, he found himself stuck in the mud monster''s embrace. Because this was no mere elemental. It had grown. Mutated. Become something else.


    ¡°That was an insight?¡± Rafe spoke even as his control returned. ¡°An insight into sound an earth creature should not have. Huh?¡±


    But then he was starting to see it. The creature was trying to absorb him, or something of the sort. Could it absorb creatures and steal their powers. If he remembered the little herbology he knew, that sound ability was something a certain plant whose name he couldn''t remember had.


    So then, was that what was special about the mud monster floor boss? Did it still have hidden abilities under its hat?


    They wouldn''t be enough. Sure, the whole absorption thing was terrifying, and it seemed it wasn''t even an insight. More an ability it perhaps got after evolution. The insight Rafe could feel had to do with quick mud or something very like it.


    Once you were caught in it, only a stronger insight could get you out. And this beast had a concept ability, so chances were it had very high level insights.


    Another way to fight insights, Rafe had once found, was to overpower them. Mud mana was a mixture of water and earth from what Rafe could see. There was a density to it though. It was denser than the mana in the ocean he''d fought in.


    It seemed stronger than the mana that animated the gargoyles in the first room. He had underestimated the mana without factual evidence in the beginning.


    There was water mana though, and earth too. A perfect recipe with a perfect counter if science had anything to say.


    ¡°Get ready to die,¡± he said, stretching his free arm to the handle of the hammer strapped to his back.


    He had one more charge of elemental lightning. There was really no better time to use it, as it was his only logical move. He could also die and resurrect if all his other very much force based means were proven futile.


    A blinding blue light flared to life, causing the mud to shiver and start boiling, causing the elemental to start losing its shape. Rafe was not immune to the effect as well, his body convulsing as the lightning danced between them.


    The elemental fell back into a puddle once the blitz was over. Rafe got to his feet faster. He had been expecting the blast after all. He had his spear out, thrusting toward all the tiny orbs of swirling flames in the puddle. All of the beast''s cores fizzled out.


    ¡°Yeah, there is no way I''m managing that thing with a concept ability. We''ll get the top prize next time. When I''m at level ten or higher.¡±


    He sat back and leaned against one of the cave walls.


    ¡°I wish the floor I chose had something I could hunt for food. Rocks and¡­very human-like creatures though¡­¡±


    Then he realised he wasn''t all that hungry anyway and started to wonder what that was about. He was starting to get lost in this spiral of thoughts when the cave rumbled.


    ¡°Huh?¡± he looked around in confusion.


    Then he remembered he had not gotten the normal ¡®Ding¡¯ he got when he killed a monster, or whenever he got a message and wasn''t paying attention to his status.


    How had the monster survived all seven of its tiny cores getting destroyed? It made no sense. Rafe searched around frantically. Trying to sense any bit of Essence he needed to destroy.


    Then he saw it, in the position the monster had come from when he''d first entered the cave. The puddle he''d made not half a minute ago was now motionless. There had been an original one though, and it was swirling, unfurling, producing the true form of the monster.


    Rafe started to run before it finished growing into a golem that dwarfed its old form by a magnitude of ten. It had separated its main core into six, and those six had been sent with an avatar. This current form had only one core. One central core so large, it must have been three times the size of Rafe''s chest.


    He was too late. The concept ability was unleashed before he could get too far towards it.


    It wasn''t that Rafe was scared of the damn monster. On the contrary, he knew he could beat it the moment he saw how large and centralized its core was. He had realised what its concept ability was though, and it was going to be a pain to clean his white robes if they got muddy.


    Alas, the multiverse liked to laugh at neat freaks sometimes. Not that Rafe was particular about his neatness. Still, since he got these robes, they''d been torn, bloodied, sanded, and wet in the mermaid room. Now they were going to be muddied in this most bizzare mud domain. They had a self clean and self repair enchantment that he hoped would come in handy once in the room labeled a ¡®safe room¡¯, but what if the dirt and destruction became too much?


    ¡°You absolute menace!¡± he growled.


    The ground had turned wet and slippery, as had the air too. The air was murky, wet feeling, smelling pungent.


    Rafe pointed his spear forward with a growl. His movement technique required he use a sword but he had a skill now. And he had his Heavy blow too.


    He collided with the core in a shower of sparks. He thought it was over once he got the ¡®Ding¡¯ even as he bounced back.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Your skill, Skyholm''s Fighting Proficiency has reached level 30.


    Then he watched in horror as the creature''s core started to separate into tiny motes of swirling flames as it tried to limit its vulnerability. Somehow, the core was always meant to be split like this. This then, was the elemental''s true ace.


    Anyone who couldn''t see its internal circuitry, well¡­ they''d have to fight a long time.


    The large body of the elemental started to grow other tiny golem shaped beings like some kind of bacteria. The young bodies stretched their arms toward Rafe. Then one spouted twigs from its hands. One blew a green and deadly looking gas toward Rafe. One just started to bubble into ever heating mud as it moved towards him.


    He moved to take a step but quickly retracted his leg. The point he''d put his leg into had tried to suck him in.


    ¡°I guess I''ll have to abuse my racial ability in order to find the traps so clearly placed everywhere.¡± He had to sharpen his ability to see all the mana around him.


    He grinned at the muddy juggernaut.


    ¡°You will die though, mark my words.¡±


    Level sixty or above, it didn''t matter. He''d fought a level one hundred human genius, and won. Sure, he''d been lucky, and she wasn''t using any concept abilities, but she was still a genius. An overgrown slightly alive statue couldn''t possibly be his undoing.


    He didn''t even need a weapon for this one. His clothes were already filthy anyway. It was time to grind his unarmed combat skill. He just had to defeat an army of weak mud golems. He''d fought similar odds many times before.

 Chapter 43. A Black Room

    He ignored the level up notifications when he reached the safe room. It was marked safe room according to his map ability, and he guessed it was because he did not have to fight or take any challenges in this particular room. All in all, it should have taken him about two days of subjective time to complete the first floor. He needed a bit of rest before he chose his next floor.


    He didn''t know what he was going to choose but his current choice was ¡®not red¡¯. Certainly nothing earth themed at the very least.


    He frowned as he stared at the doors. There were four this time. Did they increase by one every floor he climbed? He wasn''t quite sure. The new colour was black. He frowned. The door was made of some sort of matte black metal, as was the wall immediately around it. The black gem on the knob shone though, inviting him to investigate its mysteries.


    He decided he''d think about it when he woke. His stamina and endurance weren''t high enough that he could go whole days without sleeping and face no consequences.


    He wasn''t hungry when he woke. That had him frowning a little. He had thought about this earlier, during the boss fight, but had had no time to make conclusions. Even as a mental projection in Aeon, he had been eating. He had not known he was a mental projection though.


    He looked up in thought, and that was when his eyes found the matte black door with the shining black gem. He had decided he''d examine it more after his rest.


    He put his non-hunger on the back burner for now.


    Studying the door told him nothing. The metal, when he hit it, sounded like very ordinary iron. Plain old iron. Not even a hint of steel or any other alloys. Black painted iron.


    He tried to look at all the other familiar colours. This time the red door was wooden, although it was more of the sculpted wooden doors of indoor rooms of normal houses from back on earth. In fact, all the other doors were wooden this time.


    One was a nature themed door made of creeping vines twinning together and shaping themselves into a barely regular rectangle. The other was a large ornate door made from thicker wood. It was half of the huge wooden gate-like doors that led to most houses of worship.


    The black door was the only off theme thing about the safe room . He was curious about it. He couldn''t take his eyes off that onyx eye. Its gleam was emphasized by the dull metal surrounding it.


    That was when Rafe started to suspect the tower was being manipulated.


    ¡°I''m going to regret this, aren''t I?¡± He asked the ceiling below which he stood.


    He pushed the black door open and passed through the threshold.


    There was a light far in the distance, similar to the one in the mermaid room. He tried shedding his eyes to see better. That was when he noticed the ring of fiery glyphs he was standing in.


    Their light grew by the second, and in moments he began to feel a slight disturbance in his very soul. Rafe tried to take a step, to escape the magical formation. His leg met an invisible barrier. It was as unyielding as a wall.


    ¡°A bit unfair to put a trap in the entrance, isn''t¡­it?¡± he said, gritting his teeth as the discomfort grew to pain in the last moments.


    The pain disappeared as suddenly as it had come, and the glyphs exploded into tiny sparks that quickly burned themselves out into tiny motes of ash.


    He was trying to examine his body when the light far ahead disappeared as well. The room around him was bathed in an all pervading darkness. He couldn''t see a single thing. It was even worse than the underwater room.


    His eyes were open and he couldn''t see anything.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Side quest received.


    Objective: Learn the cost of power.


    Floor objective received.


    Hone your aura.


    He could see the blue screen somehow. He thought of using it as some kind of torch but¡­ Somehow it wasn''t touching the darkness at all. He remembered something Liam had said about it not being physical, and therefore a mental construct that no one could get the details of unless Rafe let them somehow. It could not produce light for him. He didn''t have such a skill anyway.


    He read through the objectives of the room. Hmmm? Floor objectives? Not room objectives, he thought with a frown. And there was no reward inserted this time. Rafe cursed inwardly as he went to try and push his race ability further out than usual.


    That was when he noticed it wasn''t giving him any information.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ The longer you stay on the floor, the more skills and abilities will become unusable. Even your stamina and mana pools will be severely restricted the longer you stay. Good luck.


    Once more he wondered what the actual role of the quest system was. Was it a kind of guide to surviving dungeons? Was it more?


    He opened his map ability. The two screens appeared, one showing the tower and the other just a black canvas. There was a red spot on it though.


    ¡°That must be me,¡± Rafe said, excited.


    He zoomed out, trying to see the edge of the floor. He couldn''t find it.


    ¡°Maybe I''m too far away. I guess I''ll have to walk for a while before it can show the edges.¡±


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    With nothing more to do, he started to move blindly.


    That was when the first of them came to him. He heard it squeak before he felt its claws. He cried out in pain, belatedly remembering he was climbing a tower. There were enemies on the floor. And he was blind as a bat. He didn''t even have the mana sensitivity he had come to disregard recently.


    As he snapped out of his fugue and prepared to defend himself, Rafe heard more squeaks coming from deeper in the darkness.


    ¡°Shit! I think I''m supposed to use my aura somehow? To sense them?¡± The floor objective had said something about mastering his aura.


    He could only use his aura to sense things like bloodlust, mana and strength. Mana types, sometimes relative strength of an individual compared to him, that sort of thing. Telling him to use his aura to sense beasts he couldn''t even begin to identify was asking for too much.


    Still, he pushed his aura out wide. Flung it wide more like. This was one of the few things Noid had worked with him on. He''d taught him to retract his aura especially in public. He''d taught him to send a few tendrils of aura every once in a while instead of releasing the whole dam.


    Rafe had always had a potent battle intent. He hadn''t known it was because he had leveled the skill fifteen times the usual cap.


    Sending out all his aura was not the good thing he thought it was. There had been about ten, maybe twenty, beasts chattering before. With his aura blanketing almost ten metres around him, hundreds, thousands of beasts started to chatter.


    Rafe retracted his aura like he''d been stung.


    ¡°Ah¡­I think that was a mistake?¡± he said as he moved his head around nervously, trying to stare into the dark.


    When the noise of thousands of beasts charging his way started. Rafe had his sword out before he could think better of it. He felt the bonus stats his blessing gave him, felt his heart beating faster. He was not supposed to use his sword, but he also wanted not to die as much as possible.


    ¡°Huh?¡± Rafe asked not even ten minutes later.


    He felt wet and sticky, the air smelled metallic and it felt misty. There was no more chattering. It was quiet. Rafe had killed all the thousands of beasts yet he had gained only a fifth the essence he got from killing one floor boss.


    The monsters were weak. Pathetic. They might have been level five or less, from what he could see. Why would a higher floor have weaker beasts? Rafe could feel the frown on his face.


    He looked at his map ability again. He did not see any difference no matter how much he looked. A red dot on a black page. Nothing, not a damn thing different. Then he saw something on the ability. A purple dot was moving toward him.


    He sent a tendril of aura into the darkness, trying to use this new dot to find directions. He found something as he combed the area around him. But then the chattering started again. This time less than ten had sensed his aura.


    He killed them all, and unfortunately the purple dot seemed to have been one of them. So, at a certain range his map could display the presence of living beings. The question he now had was at what range, and how did it do it?


    Now that it had come to it, Rafe was forced to resort to the only clue he had. This was a training scenario. A scenario to teach him to make better use of his aura. His skills gave him a unique advantage, he knew. Being uncapped as they were. His aura was probably at the level of a peak rare aura already, despite being basic.


    Could he improve it further? What would the aura skill be able to do once it evolved? Was he getting the maximum benefit from it even now? Liam had told him the effects of his skills were not to be underestimated.


    The map could sense things from a great distance. The beasts on this floor could sense when he released even the tiniest bit of his aura. What was he missing? What was he supposed to learn?


    ¡°From the beasts¡­ they''re weak. I could crash them without my class. Even with half the stats I had just after the trial. So¡­¡±


    Then he remembered that his stamina and mana pools were going to be restricted at some point.


    ¡°Ah. I''ll need to still be able to fight even without stamina, and I can''t well fight a level forty boss under such constraints. Or can I?¡±


    He touched his chin, wondering if the challenge was a burst just because he wasn''t going to struggle at all.


    It wasn''t long after that thought that his map screen became blank.


    ¡°Shit! I was hoping they couldn''t hack my status,¡± he cursed.


    He could still access everything else, but the former map screen only showed a blue screen. Empty.


    He needed to start taking the trial seriously. He had realised something while he hunted the weak beasts on the floor. Their auras were impossible to sense unless his aura senses touched their very body. That might have been because they were weak, but Rafe doubted that.


    These monsters just might have been his intended teachers. They could sense aura even with their own auras retracted like that.


    Besides, if he couldn''t escape, couldn''t see anything really, wasn''t it the perfect time to experiment with his new ability. Sam had been right about the eye giving him an ability to see souls. She had told him he should get some time in the tower to use the ability so he was used to it by the time he reached the top. She had said something about his mimic ability too, but Rafe wasn''t sure he was qualified to learn any of that.


    He looked inside himself. And he forgot to breathe for an instant.


    It was like the most beautiful painting, or pair of paintings painted on opposite sides of the same canvass. He''d rather call it a curtain though. One showing his skills and the other showing his stats, he assumed.


    He could see what Sam had described. The green fire that was his life force. The bright white conflagration that twisted around and fed thousands of small pillars. That was the essence circulating into his stats and attributes. In his distant view it looked like a painting of pillars of light stretching towards some unseen heaven.


    When he got closer though, he realised that calling it a curtain didn''t do it justice. Each side of it was a world unto itself. Like the void, in fact. So like the void, like Sam had said. He could step into the curtain and see where all the pillars of light were anchored and were they touched the sky. An endless expanse of nothing.


    But this side of the curtain was not why he was here today. Today he wanted to see the orange sun and its surrounding stars. He moved closer to the class structure first, to the weird structure that was his Pseudo-class. Then he studied the blue tinged abilities. He had never gotten around to asking about how the two were different.


    Still, he studied the swirling outlines of faded essence. Essence built the skill structures, the class structures, and thereafter disappeared. He could see the structures weren''t so simple though.


    ¡°Are those glyphs? Runes? ¡­enchantments?¡± he said with a frown.


    That was a scary thought, if he thought of everything everyone here liked to imply. With a shake of his head he ignored that for a moment.


    It was time to work on his aura manipulation skill. Now, he only needed a way to identify which one it was. He thought about it for a bit, then just decided to use the skill. One of the blue stars, a collection of glyphs, shone for a second, and all his attention turned to it.


    At some point, he''d have to visit each and everyone of his other skills because as Liam had once said none of them knew the skills¡¯ limits.


    He took a deep breath and got ready for the approaching monsters.

 Chapter 44. He Will Break

    Rafe decided there were many approaches to this when he began his experiments. First of all, aura was a representation of the spirit. It was a way to tell people your story without opening your mouth.


    And some people¡¯s stories were scary. They were full of violence. Full of echoes of their techniques, of their mental strain and emotions. They were packed with echoes of their skills. Echoes of their statistics.


    Therefore Rafe could tell how strong a person was by reading their aura. He''d already been doing that somehow, but he hadn''t applied it to its natural conclusion.


    What he was practicing now was very different from that though. He zeroed in on an attacking monster, his ears strained to pick it out amid the many approaching beasts. He had let his aura off its leash.


    He needed to in order to test his new theory out. He bunched a piece of his aura up. He visualised it like making a snowball and throwing. It hit the beast and the beast froze for a few moments. It was more a mental attack, but an attack nonetheless. That was the first time one had landed. He had worked so hard to incorporate all his senses into it.


    He didn''t stop to celebrate, already throwing out more and more attacks before the rats were on him. His spirit, even with his aura skill as high level as it was, was still very weak, being from an Essence Desert and all. He couldn''t throw more than thirty snow balls of aura every single session.


    Once he felt the soul deep exhaustion he credited these sessions with, he pulled his aura back around him with even more speed than he could the previous session. It was only a few microseconds faster - or maybe not, but Rafe would rather it was - but any progress was progress in his book. He didn''t know how long he had already been stuck in the room, but it didn''t seem like he''d be leaving soon.


    He hadn''t gone too far into his celebratory mood when a loud, distant sound went off in his head. He had never heard such a thing before. He found it immediately suspicious.


    ¡°I wonder what the system wants this time?¡± he tried to say, but he couldn''t hear himself.


    Panic seized him.


    ¡°No, no, no, No! It took my voice!¡±


    It hadn''t taken his voice.


    He had finally gotten good at using his hearing to locate enemies blind. Finally adapted to his forced blindness a little. And now he could not hear. He could not hear himself think out loud.


    And it wasn''t the system''s fault. It was the damn trial¡¯s fault.


    ¡°I''m going to run mad this time!¡± He did not hear a single thing.


    It was like the darkness ate the sound straight from his vibrating vocal cords. He lay down there in the darkness and screamed himself to sleep, blasting his aura out to scream his anguish. He felt the pain when the beasts came, but it was the only thing he could feel anymore.


    The warning had been clear. At some point he''d be unable to move, to feel his stamina and mana attribute pools.


    ****


    It took him a long time to get over his loss of his sense of sound. When he lost his sense of smell, it was hardly a discomfort.


    He lost his sense of touch at some point. He was starting to take solace in the pain the beasts brought when they clawed and bit him to death. It had been months, or maybe even years. He had lost years wandering around in the abyss, supposedly working on one skill.


    He had made vast improvements though. He could send out an untraceable pulse of aura to track any hidden beasts around him. He could keep his aura very contained, he could even pass for a civilian at times.


    He could filter what aspects of it others sensed when he let it free. Sometimes only letting his stats show.


    He had taken the time to look into another complex skill he had. Sam''s gift. The veil. They had guided him through the basics of how to use it, but realistically Sam couldn''t get him to become competent in a few days.


    Still, now that he could see the skill''s structure, Rafe had been able to figure something out. Instead of hiding his level completely, he could get the veil to show an incorrect level if someone tried to use an Appraisal skill on him.


    Appraisal didn''t work on humans though, so there must have been other skills. According to what Rafe could tell, he''d know if any of these kinds of skills was trying to penetrate his veil. And he''d be able to tweak the information he showed them if he had one such skill himself.


    He was doing well for how crazy he felt himself getting every single day.


    And of course he''d tried to grind his youngest skills. He''d brought up Unarmed combat and Skyholm''s Fighting Proficiency a lot. He''d also used Dash just to run around when he was too bored. It hadn''t leveled too much, but oh well.


    Acrobat was even more frustrating. He had focused on it a lot, only to get a few levels out of it. Having two very similar skills was proving a problem, and Rafe was already getting annoyed with the choice he''d made.


    He was getting annoyed with lots of choices these days.


    His choice to enter the red door early. His choice to enter this obvious trap door. Still, he had strengthened his soul a lot. He didn''t even need any treasures or whatever like Liam had had to use back in the day. All he needed was to pull every ounce of power from it, to wring it dry and try again. He just had to abuse it on a daily basis.


    Now he could throw double the snow balled aura. He had gotten good enough with using his aura senses by now that he could make out the shapes of the vaguely rat-like furry beasts. He could track them now. Almost effortlessly.


    But something needed to change.


    ¡°Well, I''ve learnt how to throw my aura around like a kid playing on Christmas,¡± he said although he couldn''t hear himself. ¡°Now to add some finesse to it. I am a swordsman, after all.¡±


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    ****


    When he noticed the monsters hidden just ahead of him, Rafe grinned. They still thought their ambushes would work. How cute? He had long since transcended mortal bounds. He could send out very thin threads of aura that were very easy to ignore. He mostly sent them along the ground too. The creatures that were looking for someone taller than them just didn''t look to the ground on which they crouched.


    They only looked upwards. Rafe found that hilarious, for some reason. He was going to enjoy tearing these beasts limb from limb.


    After he threw a few mental knives at them of course.


    He started to laugh and shout as he ran towards them. He felt the beast''s tense as his compressed aura rushed out like a flood, freezing them for a few instants. That was just the beginning though.


    Compressed, shaped and held in both hands, Rafe threw two well imagined aura daggers every second. He was panting by the time he reached the line of about a hundred or so beasts.


    Killing them was fun, but the flood came whenever he unleashed his aura like this.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Your skill battle intent has reached level 299.


    He frowned at the notification even as he threw pulses of aura in different directions to throw off his pursuers. Even though he had been improving his control and application of the skill the whole time he was on the floor, he also actively tried to prevent it from leveling.


    He didn''t know that was something he could do until he''d tried it. Being able to see and interact with one''s soul this early on was a cheat, just like Sam had told him.


    It might not even matter that much that he was from an Essence Desert. Now he had ways to actively cultivate his soul and increase its strength. Still, even though he tried to reduce the amount of Essence going to this one skill, it was no easy feat at all.


    It had helped him that for some reason the room had very little essence. And in addition to actively trying to hold back the trickle of essence to the skill, he had other skills and his classes to compete with it to limit how much it could level.


    Still, he''d almost reached a threshold he was afraid of for some reason. He''d have to upgrade the skill, wouldn''t he? It might pick up a new ability based on how he had used it. He still needed more time.


    Luckily, with the success of his knife throwing technique, he had hundreds more ideas. The first being a sword aura.


    It was considered a concept ability by most, but Rafe was different. His skills were cracked. They had already broken the system''s limitations. What was preventing him from forming pseudo concept techniques with his aura? Heck, why couldn''t he use his aura to fly?


    ****


    He found out why he couldn''t fly pretty soon after that. It must have been mere weeks when he lost control of his body. For some reason, the amount of Essence to the floor was now a bare trickle. It added weight to his theory that the gods were watching him.


    He didn''t want to be angry at some of them, but couldn''t they see this training was going a little too far.


    ****


    ¡°Hey En, isn''t this going a little too far?¡± Sam asked the enchantress.


    ¡°I agree,¡± Noid said, frowning slightly at the woman.


    She sighed. ¡°This is nothing.¡±


    ¡°It is obviously not nothing,¡± Liam commented.


    ¡°Weren''t you the one who said he should learn a few things before he ventures out?¡± Enith asked. ¡°Well, this is a lesson he should learn, I think. Besides, we can''t get him out of the room except through breaking the tower and ending his ascension early. Is that something you want?¡±


    ¡°But this could break him,¡± Sam complained.


    Enith snorted, ¡° I wish.¡±


    Noid''s eyes sharpened on her. ¡°What''s that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°He is going to break one way or another, of that there is no doubt,¡± Enith said. ¡°He reminds me a little of myself. He hides his pain, buries it deep. When that dam breaks, well¡­ I would like it to happen here in the trial, where he has us. Deeper in the multiverse though¡­¡±


    She said nothing more, and the others watched on.


    ****


    Without being able to feel anything in any form of sense, Rafe was lost. He withdrew into his spirit, only seeing the two sides of the curtain and refusing to do anything for a long time.


    After what he assumed was a long time had passed and no one came for him, he figured they were not coming. He needed to somehow move. He saw the pillars of light that were his mana and stamina, both now covered with a cloud of swirling dust.


    He needed to move somehow. He couldn''t feel, hear or see. He still had his aura though. Tightly bound around his body that was lost in an endless abyss somewhere.


    He started to send out feelers for beasts but they were just there. Hundreds. Millions of them. They had surrounded him. Made a camp around their never ending feast.


    He saw a monster take a piece of his body casually. His body grew back. He didn''t feel a thing, but he remembered the one difference between the tower and the trial. All that pain would be there after this. He''d pay for it.


    He wondered how many times he''d died already. Still, now was the best time to practice, it seemed. The essence was so low it''d take him long to gain that last level. He would suffer but he would get the best of this damn floor if it killed him. Well, it had killed him thousands of times already. More times than he had died in his trial before.


    With a deep mental sigh, Rafe settled down to train. To learn from these beasts. To use his aura to do everything, to reach its full potential.


    Liam had once warned him his situation was not simple, but even he had not known what they were dealing with. When Rafe''s aura skill reached level three hundred, the messages started to come in.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Your skill battle intent has reached level 300.


    You have reached an upgrade threshold.


    Then, instead of bringing an option for him¡­


    You have chosen to upgrade your skill.


    Processing information ¡­ processing insights¡­ processing skill level¡­processing¡­


    Warning! The skill level is higher than known parameters. Excess energy will be required for the skill upgrade. If no excess energy is provided, the user''s life force will be used. Note that damage to the life force is semi-permanent compared to damage to the health pool.


    Evolution process started¡­


    ¡°Wait! I didn''t choose to evolve the damn skill! Give me options, damn it!¡±


    Then he felt it. He felt a bit of heat growing every second. Only it was internal. He closed his eyes and focused inward. He saw the skill structure shift first. It looked almost like an Asian character or a glyph. Now some of the components were being destroyed, new ones added in even as he watched.


    The essence was not enough. He felt it when the green pillar that was his life force was touched upon. With rising panic, he went to the other side of the curtain to see the sparks of his life being stolen before his very eyes.


    ¡°...I didn''t choose this,¡± he said again, this time going for a despairing kind of voice.


    He still couldn''t hear himself.


    At some point he started screaming. Every green spark that was siphoned off sent unfathomable pain lancing through his very being.


    Then the pain stopped and Rafe could only lie in the dark and breathe heavily. The skill upgrade wasn''t even a quarter way through. There was a new source of Essence now. Rafe frowned. The gods had been watching. Why hadn''t they done anything earlier?


    Why had they agreed to whatever the enchantress had inflicted upon him? Why had Noid? Why had Liam?


    He stopped short, looking at his soul again. If he hadn''t known the risk of upgrading his skills, if he had done it from somewhere else, then he''d have lost more than a few months worth of life force.


    Maybe the gods had been watching out for him in their own way. Now he knew he needed to be more careful about leveling his skills. He had an advantage, he thought, but things were never that easy.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Congratulations, your skill battle intent has upgraded to The sword''s intent(rare) (lvl.75)

 Chapter 45. Meeting The Team

    The description of the skill didn''t change much, as far as Rafe could see. He only had the new feature that allowed him to hurl pieces of his aura, now in a more controlled fashion. It was already a maxed out rare skill, at least by most people''s standards, so he should have been able to control it.


    The beasts hadn''t been deterred when he''d suddenly started yelling and writhing. They had backed off a bit, but once the process was settled they came back in to feast. Too bloody bad for them Rafe was done playing.


    His new rare aura came flooding out of his body. It pushed some of the beasts back like it was a physical thing.


    The last thing Rafe had tried to learn was to solidify his aura like some of the masters he''d fought before. His ultimate goal was a little more ambitious though. He wanted to use it to support his body, to try and use his aura to move. It would have been cool if it worked on his first attempt.


    Instead, in his aura senses he felt himself flailing like a caterpillar. The beasts were snapping out of their fear induced pause. They were starting to move. Cautiously at first, but they were getting bolder. Rafe cursed inwardly as he started to prepare his aura projectiles. The first beast he hit was sent skidding so far back it disappeared from his aura senses for a while.


    ¡°Huh?¡± Rafe thought out loud.


    Then he shrugged and shaped his next projectile more carefully. It tore through a beast''s limb, not entirely cutting it off but causing a wound Rafe could sense bleeding.


    ¡°Shit!¡± Rafe thought even as he continued his wriggling attempt to stand.


    He was surrounded, but he had a way to fight now. Even with all his determination though, his soul was weak. It lasted a lot longer than it would have before the evolution though.


    And then he had to preserve the last little gas for his experiments later. There was a reason the gods had left the beasts weak. Even in his weakened state, even flailing on the ground as he was, he could take them on.


    It was a long and harrowing battle on the ground. Him biting and clawing and kicking and punching. They piled up on him more than once, but he was functionally immortal.


    It was an hours-long slog. His soul would get back in shape after a few intervals, and he''d always be ready to massacre the beasts when that happened.


    He used his aura to strengthen his hands first. And then he learned to use it on his legs, then the rest of his body.


    Before he knew it, he was kneeling and he had a sword in hand even if it was blunt. They couldn''t pile up on him now. He didn''t bother retracting his aura. He needed all the fine control he could spare to lift himself up slowly and kill, and kill and kill.


    When he got to his feet, the room froze.


    His sense of touch returned first. He could feel a cool breeze in the darkness. He tried to move his feet. He froze. They were not touching anything. And now that he thought about it, the wind was moving in an upward direction.


    ¡°Shit! Am I falling?¡±


    And that''s when he realised he could hear again. Not that he could jump for joy. He had been falling for quite some time. Then his sight returned and he started to scream as he fell toward a very bright light.


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Side Quest completed.


    Floor objectives completed.


    Assigning rewards.


    Rewards: 10 Quest Points, 1000 credits, F-grade elixir(legendary), 2 luck points, 2 int points, 1 wis point.


    Rafe frowned at the somewhat more generous than usual rewards, disregarding the Quest Points. He didn''t even know what they did. He appraised the elixir.


    Elixir(legendary). A miracle cure for most mortal ailments, even restoring damaged life force and mental damage.


    It was convenient for now. But what would happen when Rafe needed to upgrade a skill all the way to legendary and beyond. Rafe decided he''d rather use the elixir later than just then. He''d only lost a few days if that, and he had more years of life than he would have had without the system.


    And then there were the stat points he''d received. He looked at his status screen, his brows shooting up.


    Intelligence 19-23


    Wisdom 22-25


    Paranormal: Luck 19-21


    Mana 220-250


    Even before the system''s meager contribution, it seemed like his stats had jumped a little since he''d seen them last. At least by two points each.


    Rafe touched his chin in thought. ¡°So that''s how I was growing my stats in the trial even though I couldn''t level? Training is a way to increase stats. Understanding skills is a way too. Huh? Go figure.¡±


    Now, if only Rafe didn''t have to worry about that whole stat cap thing Noid had told him about, he''d be golden. He had a lot of ways to improve his stats, what with how quests were starting to reward him stat points every once in a while. He also knew there were special treasures he could get his hands on now he had a reliable source of income. That is, if these so-called credits were indeed the currency of the multiverse. He wasn''t sure of that yet.


    He also had to consider the other thing about his new elixir friend. It could cure mental illnesses. Rafe knew it was not a jab at him. He had been stuck in a dark and quiet and lonely place for gods knew how many subjective years. He considered taking the elixir, just to make sure his head was screwed on right.


    A scintillating smell hit him then. His head snapped up at once, finally studying the waiting room he''d ended up in. It was an idyllic fairy forest. That caused Rafe''s mind to blank for a second.


    He wasn''t even surprised to see the shiny little people bobbing up and down on flowers.


    It was breathtaking. The way the light bounced off carefully placed dew drops, and the way the blue water in a clean pond a ways away reflected the light. And then there was the stone slab plopped up like a massive dining table. There was only one chair next to it. And on top of it lay a feast for hundreds.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Rafe''s tummy grumbled. He hadn''t been able to feel it on the previous floor, but he was starving. How many years had he gone only depending on essence to survive?


    He didn''t know how long he''d been on the second floor, but he needed some real food in him soon. The beauty around him was forgotten. When he sat down to eat, his dirty hands shocked some sense back into his head. He looked at the pool of shimmering blue water, the looming trees curtaining the clearing, and the little twinkling creatures who pretended they hadn''t noticed him. It was a great time and place to have a bath, after he''d finished stuffing himself with food of course.


    ****


    ¡°You''re bribing him now?¡± Sam asked, rubbing her brow in agitation.


    ¡°Of course not! I just need him in the right mind state as he heads closer to the fourth floor. You know what he''ll have to do there,¡± the enchantress said.


    ¡°The fourth floor will prove not to be too challenging for my disciple, of that I can assure you. We should be more worried about the fifth¡ª¡±


    ¡°Your pupil has performed admirably, Noid. We are all very impressed,¡± Enith told him. ¡°You cannot make light of me, however. You cannot make light of my accomplishments.¡±


    ¡°She doesn''t have your accomplishments,¡± Noid said.


    ¡°She will someday,¡± Enith fired back.


    ¡°Or she''ll try to do the opposite of what you did. Destroy the multiverse instead of save it,¡± Sam commented. ¡°Such a misguided child. Honestly though, I''d bet on Rafe any day.¡±


    ¡°Do not forget the others have levels on him,¡± Sendriel spoke up for the first time in a long time.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Liam chimed in, looking at Enith with a frown. ¡°What, pray tell, will he be doing for the next floor?¡±


    ¡°We''ll see whatever he chooses. He deserves to rest a little after such a performance, don''t you think?¡± the enchantress said.


    They kept watch as the boy rested two whole days. They wouldn''t have blamed him if he rested a whole week, a whole month even.


    ¡°Now,¡± the enchantress said, rubbing her hands together, ¡°I wonder what he''ll¡­huh?¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± Noid asked, worried.


    ¡°He chose green.¡±


    ¡°What''s wrong with that?¡± Sam asked.


    ¡°Well, let''s just say we get a kind of preview.¡±


    The others all blinked at her, confused. Then Sam frowned, looking back into the void. The others followed suit. It was Liam who ahhed first.


    ¡°Why does he have such rotten luck for having already unlocked his luck stat and even improved it a little?¡± Noid said with a groan.


    ****


    Rafe opened the green gemmed stone door to a wide entry area. There were two doors. Rafe frowned. The third floor configuration he''d chosen looked like a safe room from what he could tell. Although it had only two doors without gems in them.


    ¡°I wonder what I ought¡­¡±


    ¡®Ding¡¯ Side Quest received.


    Objective: Ally with an enemy team.


    Reward: Quest points, Credits.


    Floor objective: A team oriented competition.


    Hidden objective: Form a strong bond with at least one of your teammates.


    Seeing a floor objective had him tensing. Was this another special floor like the one he''d been in before.


    ¡°Hmmm, I wonder where my team Is?¡± Rafe said, looking around with a frown. ¡°Oh right, I''m doing this tower alone, damn quest system.¡±


    A snort sounded from one of the dark corners of the room. Rafe jolted and looked around, trying to locate the sound''s owner. He wasn''t quite able to, until he had a bit of murmuring.


    ¡°...you led him right to us!¡± someone was whisper-yelling.


    ¡°He is going to be on our team anyway,¡± a calm voice spoke.


    It was a calm and collected baritone. A strong looking man - or maybe a tall and gigantic boy - stepped forward. He had his large arms folded across his entirely too large chest.


    ¡°Hey,¡± he greeted Rafe with a nod. ¡°I am Aska Ralle.¡±


    ¡°I only laughed cause he thinks he''s the one doing the tower,¡± a girl was saying, her voice dripping with mirth. ¡°Hey,¡± she said when she reached them, ¡°You can call me Devila, the enchantress.¡±


    Rafe frowned as he went to shake her proffered hand before he froze. He looked at the girl''s face. It was her. He''d seen her before. The girl who had been studying the vision at almost the same time as him, studying and speaking with the enchantress. And she had just called herself the enchantress.


    She was a short woman, tiny, just like the enchantress herself. She had brown hair and a plain looking face. One of her eyes had been replaced with one that looked birdlike, and she wore baggy witch''s robes which swirled a little in the semi-mobile air.


    She had what looked like a leather rope or chain with spiky bits on it fastened onto her belt loop.


    ¡°You are the enchantress?¡± Rafe asked.


    ¡°Her best student,¡± the girl said proudly, gesturing at herself as she closed her eyes.


    ¡°I''m the heiress of her legacy. The greatest legacy in the whole damn trial and the multiverse to boot.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and she won''t shut up about it,¡± the second girl, this one a blond with red eyes and a hint of scales on her otherwise human skin. ¡°I''m Quinsia. Yes, before you ask, one of my parents was scaled. So, you''re one of our team members.¡±


    ¡°Rafael Kingsley,¡± Rafe said in introduction.


    ¡°Why do you have all your things strapped to you like that?¡± Devila, the enchantress¡¯ heiress apparently, asked. ¡°Didn''t the thief give you a storage skill? That''s all she''s good for.¡±


    Rafe did not like that one bit. He did not show his displeasure though. That was sure to cause a lot of tension in the group.


    ¡°She did, in fact, give me a storage skill. Or at least the idea of how to gain one,¡± Rafe mumbled the last part quietly, hoping Sam had been right in all her assertions.


    ¡°Then use it. You''re going to make us all look bad. Whose trial did you even go to? The First¡¯s?¡± she asked with a frown.


    Rafe didn''t see any reason to hide his master''s identity. These all seemed like trial takers, so they probably knew a lot about the gods anyway. Keeping it secret from them somehow didn''t make sense.


    ¡°I went with Noid''s trial.¡±


    The young heiress to a god scrunched her nose up in barely concealed disgust.


    ¡°No wonder your blessing seems somewhat denser, more concentrated than mine. It must be because the trial is unpopular. He must have had no one to bless until you came along.


    ¡°You''re not even a real swordsman. A hammer? A spear, a saber? Why would you even¡­great! My team sucks!¡±


    Rafe blinked at the venom in the girl''s tone.


    ¡°Don''t listen to her, Rafael. She is not so easy to get along with,¡± Aska said with a frown aimed in the girl''s direction.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Quinsia agreed with her teammate.


    ¡°Okay¡­¡± Rafe tried to do just as they said. ¡°So which legacies did you all get?¡± he asked the other two.


    Aska, his arms still folded over his barrel chest grinned. ¡°I went with the third. Master Grenderel all the way.¡±


    Rafe blinked. The big man was a mage. It was a bit of a shock.


    ¡°I am a healer,¡± Quinsia said. ¡°I went with mistress Xamanthia.¡±


    That was even more surprising. How did she figure a light magic specialist going to a shadow queen was a great idea? Besides, she seemed to have some beast blood, so heading to Sendriel just seemed like common sense to Rafe. He was about to comment when a sharp loud voice boomed through their locker room.


    ¡°The first step: destroy all that stands in your way. Only ten teams can leave this stage. If you lose even one member, your team is done.You have a three day time limit. After one week all teams will be eliminated.¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± Devila groaned, looking at Rafe with ill-concealed venom. ¡°If you cost us this, I will end you. Let''s go.¡±


    She didn''t look back as she headed for a door at the back of the room.


    ¡°Who made her our boss?¡± Quinsia asked. ¡°And why does she keep saying she is the real one? She even laughed at Rafael¡¯s assertion of being a real person. It''s obviously me who''s real.¡±

 Chapter 46. The Warriors of The System Era

    They ended up on a barren piece of land. The clouds were few and scattered, and the violet expanse of space was visible. It reminded Rafe a lot of the demon continent on Aeon.


    ¡°A devastated world,¡± Aska commented.


    ¡°There are plants that can grow even on planets devastated by their stars,¡± Quinsia said. ¡°It is possible to make food and the like here.¡±


    Maybe it was, but for the longest distance there was only the dark soil. They were on a plateau interspersed with a few hills and hillocks. The vegetation was so sparse, and what Rafe could see looked dead and desolate.


    ¡°That is not our priority,¡± Devila interjected. ¡°We need to head for that cliff over there. This is an open battle field. Vision is key if we want to¡ª¡±


    ¡°There are three groups congregating on our location even as we speak. I''d give us two minutes tops,¡± Rafe interrupted her. ¡°And there are already about ten groups closer to the cliff than we. They are already fighting it out.¡±


    ¡°How do you¡­¡± Devila started but then she shrugged and unclasped her whip from her belt. ¡°Let''s make a triangle formation since there are three heading this way.¡±


    She looked between Rafe and Quinsia with a frown. Rafe felt something try to analyze his soul. The veil skill activated automatically. He could manipulate it a little. It would be easier to manipulate once he got a skill that allowed him to analyse people in turn, so that he knew what information they''d find least suspicious and or interesting.


    ¡°Why are you hiding your level?!¡± Devila snarled. ¡°We are supposed to be a team.¡±


    Rafe paid her no mind, instead trying to find which of the teams was stronger via his aura senses. They were really close to each other in ability. Even close to his team.


    ¡°Fine then. You stay in the middle. We''ll protect you,¡± Devila commanded with authority. ¡°Aska and Quin, you each take one side, alright?¡±


    Silence for a beat. Then Quinsia raised her hand a bit.


    ¡°I don''t mind being in the middle. I am a healer after all.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Devila growled. ¡°If one of us gets eliminated, then I fail this floor. Just do what I tell you to!¡±


    Rafe was going to complain but thought better of it. It was a chance to see the abilities of the system era. He had fought people hundreds of levels higher than him in the pre-system era. But even the monsters in the tower were harder to deal with than higher leveled monsters pre-system. He shrugged and went to stand in the center of their formation as Devila had told him.


    With her whip dragging along the ground, Devila went to wait for the now visible enemies. Aska and Quin shared a look before both went to take up their own positions. Rafe unclasped his hammer from his back and prepared to intervene.


    He did not focus on any specific fight. He flared his racial ability to its fullest, watching his teammates and their souls. He needed to practice his newest ability anyway, and what better time than now. Still, at his lie level, it was much more difficult to see other people''s souls than his own.


    When Aska started to cast a spell, Rafe saw a beacon light up in his soul. And the mana and essence in the atmosphere answered. Rafe frowned as he studied the phenomenon. He could see almost three affinities to the spell. It was a chain lightning spell as it turned out.


    Too bad his opponents were not so easily taken care of, a shield wielder stepping forward and activating a skill that pulled the whole attack into his shield. Without even posing, a warrior used the tank''s back as a launching pad and jumped in a move very similar to an earth shattering technique.


    Aska protected himself with an earthen wall that was immediately sheared in half. The warrior made to attack right away even as an archer in the back pulled back an empty string. Nine arrows of pure mana formed out of nothing on the bow. He released, Rafe twitched to go to his teammate''s aid.


    Aska had been trained by master Granderel though, and even as the warrior seemed about to cut him, the slash seemed to go in the wrong direction.


    Aska manipulated space to have the sword move further from him the more the warrior pushed. Rafe frowned, his ability reacting to the space mana more than any other mana he had seen before. The arrows looked like they were going to hit their mark, but then they scattered at the last second.


    Rafe didn''t know what was going on, except that there was some space magic bullshit involved. Yeah, Aska was going to be alright. As for Quin though¡­


    Rafe frowned as he looked at her tight dark suit of armour. It was some kind of shadow armour, only the design seemed out of place. The visor reminded him of power rangers, and so too the ridges and subtley different shades of black on some parts. She was dancing and weaving among her opponents with two daggers.


    She was doing even better than Aska, if he was being honest.


    An explosion sounded to Rafe''s left. He turned to see Devila dancing with her long whip keeping a party of four at a distance and a flock of shimmering golden paper birds floating around her. Talismans, is what they were. Devila was no doubt a strong mage.


    Rafe could see her mana pool swirling as she drew more from it than someone below level fifty should have been able to. She also had very precise control of it.


    Instead of drawing essence from the environment like Aska, she drew the excess energy for her spells from talismans she had already drawn. She was also trying to weave a giant essence collecting circle or formation as she danced among her enemies. Rafe had the distinct impression she was showboating. Playing with her prey before she finished it.


    Her whip flew around like a snake, barely under her control. It was animated by pure mana. No wonder she claimed she was the enchantress'' heiress. She fought very similarly to the other woman. She was also trying to do a lot against opponents who she perhaps could have overwhelmed in a second with a few talismans. She was complicating the fight.


    Rafe had enough experience by now to know the girl was a child trying hard to impress. In a sense, they all were.


    None of his teammates needed his intervention though. He let his attention drift to his aura senses even as he continued trying to study their souls and how the magic they used worked. His head whipped back in shock.


    ¡°Devila! Might want to wrap that up,¡± Rafe warned in a panic.


    ¡°Huh! What are you talking about?¡± the woman asked, still using her elaborate footwork to keep her enemies at a distance.


    Rafe didn''t know why he hadn''t thought about it. Probably because he''d never had to fight on a team with mages before. Flashy battles like the one they were having was bound to attract attention.


    There were two more teams approaching Quin''s position. There was one approaching Devila¡¯s and it seemed stronger than even their team, but the healer was the greater priority in Rafe''s book. Rafe flew toward Quin''s position but then he noticed the fighting from Aska''s side had stopped.


    ¡°You bastard!¡± a fuming tank screamed.


    He unsheathed a sword even as he started to run toward a panting mage on all fours. Rafe thought Aska was fine, but then he noticed the man trying to ignite his mana pool with his soul sight. It sputtered and died. Rafe changed direction and headed toward the mage.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°We''ve got incoming!¡± he shouted to the others. ¡°Two converging on Quin and one on you Devila! Aska is out of mana. We may need to retreat.¡±


    His hammer met a rising shield and he activated his heavy blow skill. A shimmering wall of a fiery barrier appeared to block Rafe''s blow.


    Oh, come on! he shouted internally, but he had somehow expected this. He planned to ask his teammates about it once the battle was done.


    His hammer collided with the barrier. He was unable to overpower it this time and instead he was launched backwards and collided with his grounded teammate, sending them sprawling in a tangle of limbs. Still, he had caused the tank''s charge to stop and his momentum to die.


    The tank stumbled a bit, but then he was running again and he had a shortsword this time aimed towards Rafe.


    Rafe was already on his feet, letting go of the Warhammer to get his spear instead. He thrust once, bounced off again, thrust again. All the while dancing around his opponent. He was trying to study the reactive force field. Well, it was just reactive. And he was fast. His first idea was to overwhelm it with hundreds of hits a second.


    The large warrior reeled back but the force field held. Rafe frowned. Then he withdrew to try his next idea. The shield wielder charged. Rafe stood with the butt of his spear against the ground. He was frowning at the man. His plan was to make the guy lower his guard even for a second.


    The man reached Rafe and lunged with a vertical slash. Rafe pretended he was frozen until the last second when the man smirked in satisfaction. Then Rafe dodged and thrust as fast as his super-coiled, super-tense muscles could. The reactive force field activated a moment too late. The man had already been gutted like a fish.


    Then he went to help Aska. Rafe supported the heavy mage with his shoulder as he tried to lead him to a place far from the action. He found Quin trying to head back toward the centre of their formation. Devila had ignored his advice. Instead, she was now actively trying to fight off two groups of coordinating warriors. Rafe shook his head as he went to help Quin.


    ¡°Dragon''s breath!¡± a mage yelled as Rafe rushed towards him.


    Rafe activated his Parry skill but still got ready to dodge just in case. To the mage''s credit, the fire was hotter than normal. It was not hot enough. Rafe''s skill created a tiny hole in the flame thrower-like attack. Rafe forced himself through, trying to make himself as small as possible by manipulating his muscles to the utmost.


    The mage was surprised when he saw Rafe''s spear come for his throat. No mage in the F- rank would be able to cast a true Dragon''s breath, Rafe knew. There was only a little resistance akin to the reactive force field this time. That had Rafe frowning. He had to find out what the force field was as soon as he could.


    There were still a couple of enemies to deal with now. And now with their teams eliminated, the fighters had very little to lose. Rafe and Quin quickly found a rhythm though. Rafe attacked and took the enemy''s attention. Then Quin would come out of nowhere and land a decisive blow. Not always a killing blow, but always a crippling one at the very least.


    She had probably figured out Rafe couldn''t be relied on to kill any of the melee oriented enemies.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Quin said as she tried to keep her breathing even. ¡°Aska?¡±


    ¡°He''s fine,¡± Rafe answered, trying to calm himself before he went to help a now struggling Devila. ¡°You should join him. If more teams approach, find a way to hide. You do have a few skills with shadows, don''t you?¡±


    Quin narrowed her eyes at him. Then she nodded and sauntered off to join Aska.


    Rafe dived straight into the fray, jumping into combat with a black masked assassin whose gender he would have been hard pressed to guess. There was a hooded figure who''d also managed to weave her way through Devila''s mana infused snake-like whip. Rafe kept an eye on the warrior.


    He also kept an eye on Devila, and he saw the moment the woman finished the magical array she had been drawing on the ground. She withdrew her whip and jumped, using a wind cantrip to float backward gracefully. She had been holding back five fighters all on her own. They all charged forward to attack.


    ¡°Raedis, no!¡± the hooded shortsword wielder screamed, and one of the charging warriors froze.


    He was seven feet tall and his skin was purple and he had swollen tattoo like marks on his skin. Only they seemed natural. He was a beast of a being, and he had back facing horns, like those of a mountain goat.


    Three of the other four warriors were caught in the formation. Once they entered it, they could not get out. They bounced off the air like it was some kind of invisible glass. They only realised their predicament when the runes they hadn''t seen before lit up below them.


    Then the short sword wielder used a movement skill similar to Rafe''s, but probably of a higher rarity. She was charging for Devila. Rafe knew he was only fighting the assassin to buy time. He couldn''t kill her unless he had a lot more time. He changed his target immediately and headed in Devila''s direction.


    The warrior mage realised what was coming and started to rummage through a shoulder slung satchel for a talisman. She started panicking the closer the shortsword wielder got. She might have been strong, stronger than Rafe currently no doubt, but he had so much more experience.


    ¡°Shit!¡± the girl cried as the hooded warrior, who was a woman based on her voice earlier, came closer.


    Rafe shook his head even as he pushed his skills to their fullest. The shortswords didn''t touch the girl. Instead they intercepted a spear thrust that would have taken the warrior through her chest. The reactive force field was already starting to form anyway, so Rafe wasn''t sure he would have finished her off. The warrior took a step back and prepared to engage him but then she froze, looking at him under her hood. Rafe did not let his guard down.


    The array finished its charge. Then a beam of white mana shot far into the sky, carrying a red mist with it. The fourth warrior screamed in anguish.


    They were all part of the same team, Rafe realised, the warriors Devila had trapped. That meant one of the two teams she had been engaging was still alive and well.


    Rafe gaped at the beam.


    ¡°Look out!¡± Devila warned.


    She was looking behind him. Rafe was in a bind, cursing the limited range of his spatial awareness ability. He didn''t know who the enemy was or how they were going to attack. He couldn''t turn around as that would take from his reaction time. He couldn''t just roll in any direction without knowing what the attack was.


    Then, in that fortuitous moment, his precognition acted and he saw the large purple fist headed towards the back of his head a second before it would land. He only moved his head a bit. And then he pushed the butt of his spear upward, fast enough that the demon''s reactive force field wouldn''t react even as his groin was smashed.


    The demon grunted at first, but then took a step back and screamed as it moved its hands toward its groin.


    A red beam of death appeared out of nowhere, aimed toward a now gobsmacked Devila.


    ¡°Hey!¡± he complained as he knocked the beam out of the air, ¡°focus, won''t you?.¡±


    The mage scrunched her brow. She did not deign to answer his question.


    ¡°I think this ambush is turning tricky,¡± a cocky voice called out.


    Rafe followed the voice, finding its owner holding what looked like a gun pointed in his direction. It started to shine even as Rafe watched and another beam of red energy shot towards him. It did look like a very technologically advanced gun. Only it didn''t shoot bullets.


    Rafe cut the beam in half using his spear. The blonde man flicked his long hair and looked down his nose at Rafe.


    ¡°I suppose there is no profit to be had. I don''t see any reason for us to persist in this. Come along Raedis.¡±


    A snarl answered the man''s instruction, but the horned giant was soon running back to his team. Rafe decided not to pursue. The assassin Rafe had been fighting activated a sudden teleport skill and appeared next to the gun slinger.


    Rafe wanted to say it was impossible, but then he remembered he was the only one with a basic class, probably. It was entirely possible someone here, or even many someones, had epic classes. Some even had more than one, like Quinsia.


    ¡°You bastards!¡± the guy from the party Devila had devastated cried. ¡°How can you just abandon¡ª¡±


    Rafe put his spear through the distracted man''s chest without hesitation. The first team was completely destroyed. The second team was the one Rafe had been wary of though.


    He watched the last of them withdraw. The hooded woman he''d pushed back. Her hooded head was turned towards him. He saw the gun slinger look her way nervously. He saw her nod subtly. Then the man cleared his throat and ordered the retreat. Devila unfurled her whip.


    ¡°Stop, Devila!¡± he shouted as the girl made to follow the now retreating foes.


    ¡°You don''t command me!¡± she growled as she turned. ¡°You never command me! No one does.¡±


    ¡°Sure, sure,¡± Rafe said, lifting his hands in a calming gesture. ¡°But you''re almost out of mana. Quin and Aska are down for now. We can''t be separated, otherwise we all lose.¡±


    The woman frowned at him. She frowned at the escaping team.


    ¡°I can track them, now that we''ve fought them once. They were stronger than most, I think,¡± Rafe said.


    Devila still looked uncertain, switching her gaze from him to where Quin and Aska were to their retreating foes. Her eyes were frantic for a few moments. Then she took a deep breath and seemed to be getting a hold of herself. She closed her eyes. When she opened them they were back to their confident gleam. She opened her mouth to say something but then hesitated.


    ¡°I''m almost out of mana? How could you tell?¡±

 Chapter 47. The Third Floor?

    Rafe reeled in shock. He''d given away too much information. He was quick to school his features into neutrality though.


    ¡°I watched the fights,¡± he said with a shrug. ¡°You were using too much mana for a person around our level, I figured you were almost out.¡±


    He turned towards the others, trying to feign nonchalance. He kept her in the range of his racial ability though. Just to make sure there was nothing to worry about there. She kept shooting skeptical glances toward his back.


    ¡°What do you mean at our level?¡± she asked. ¡°I''m just a level thirty two. Sure, I have an epic class, but I''m probably the lowest level here.¡±


    Rafe blinked in surprise. Level thirty two was impressive in so many ways. According to Noid, most trial takers were at least level ten when they first entered the trial. Over two years of focused training with peak gods, and most people would at least be level forty before they started tackling the tower.


    And the lower floors of the tower had opportunities for growth too. Of course Rafe had had a special second floor, but he believed he was the exception in that regard.


    Her having only thirty two levels and an epic class meant a lot. She had such strong foundations that her leveling speed was slower than most initially. If she strengthened her foundations further she would gain levels slower still, but she would have limitless potential to improve. With a foundation as strong as hers, Rafe estimated she would have no problems making it to the A grade.


    Further building and her race would have no problem breaking into the S. He knew he too had strong foundations on top of his crippling inability to level fast enough. If he followed the list of classes prescribed to him faithfully, he''d reach the B grade no problem. All he needed at that point would be to make sure his truth grew well, and he''d be staring the S grade and beyond in the face.


    Devila had mana potions. Rafe didn''t need them, but he was sure Aska and Quin could have used them. Devila didn''t seem keen on sharing though.


    ¡°Need any healing?¡± Quin asked both of them once she''d regained some colour.


    ¡°No,¡± they both said.


    Rafe hadn''t sustained any injuries. Devila had a few scratches here and there, but nothing serious. She couldn''t meet any of their eyes though. Rafe frowned at that.


    ¡°So what''s the plan?¡± Aska asked after a few beats of silence.


    ¡°We are going to follow that group with the demon of course,¡± Rafe said. ¡°After a few hours of rest.¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± three voices said in unison.


    Rafe found that funny. They didn''t even know his true plan for the strong team.


    It was Devila who continued first though, saying, ¡°you said we''d go after them immediately?¡±


    Rafe shrugged. ¡°Yeah, but two of ours aren''t in the best shape to fight. We need Aska to regain his mana, and Quin too.¡±


    ¡°But why are we following a group like that?¡± Quin asked. ¡°They seemed strong.¡±


    Devila scoffed. ¡°That''s why we need to crash them!¡±


    ¡°No. That''s not what I''m thinking,¡± Rafe said.


    The other team was strong. And they knew it too. Rafe was thinking of his objectives for the room. And if he could teach his new teammates a few combat tricks, he was all for it. Sure, they were stronger than him, but he was the better warrior, more experienced. Maybe this was what Noid questioned about the system era.


    ¡°What are you thinking?¡± Devila asked.


    ¡°I''m thinking you should tell me about the reactive force fields,¡± Rafe said, as a way to distract them, and a way to get the information he seriously needed.


    ¡°Oh, yeah,¡± Quinsia started. ¡°No, seriously, what level are you? Your aura skill seems advanced enough, but you don''t even have a veil.¡±


    ¡°A veil,¡± Rafe asked.


    ¡°The ¡®reactive force field¡¯ as you called it,¡± Devila said. ¡°How high is your defense specification? As a warrior you should have one. And how do you not know something that basic?¡±


    Rafe didn''t answer her. He was busy trying to read through the lines of what she''d just said. He closed his eyes and pretended he was too tired to deal with Devila. Inward, he was reeling from the realisation. If the more one advanced their class the more specifications they got, then a rare class holder could probably not even injure a legendary class holder.


    Mages, ordinary ones at least, did not have a defense spec. He had learnt the name of the phenomenon causing him trouble, but he didn''t know what to do about it.


    ****


    Devila was twitching where she lay down next to him. In a clearing thirty metres ahead, the demon''s team fought two others.


    The blonde gunslinger stood back as the others attacked. He was the team''s long distance damage dealer. They had a masked assassin in their ranks, the one who''d used a teleport skill at the last second . The demon was a brawler type warrior.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    He had punching daggers strapped all over his body. He also had very sturdy skin with indentations that looked like tattoos but were more like scale armour, although they were bigger than at least Quin''s scales.


    The fourth member of the group was the sword warrior Rafe well remembered, but that was not all she was. For one thing, she seemed to double as the team''s healer and buff specialist.


    ¡°A strong team,¡± Aska said, awed again as he''d been in the previous fights.


    Quin could only nod her acquiescence, her eyes wide as she studied the sword wielding support mage.


    The demon shone with a golden hue that clearly increased his damage output. There were signs of speed enhancement on the assassin, but Rafe couldn''t be sure. As for the gunslinger, some of his beams shone with a brilliant rainbow tinge. The mage''s own blades shone golden, enhanced in some way Rafe couldn''t discern.


    Devila had a nasty look on her face. Rafe wasn''t sure what she was thinking, and wasn''t sure he wanted to find out.


    They were fast and efficient. And even after fighting two teams at once, they barely seemed worse for wear.


    ¡°I see you rats skulking back there. If you hoped to ambush us after a fight then I will have to disappoint you,¡± the blonde gunslinger spoke.


    The others were surprised. Rafe was only relieved the guy had finally decided to acknowledge them. He had been prodding them with subtle aura fluctuations since his team had witnessed the first few fights. He had been starting to think the team weren''t that well trained as they made themselves out to be.


    He stood even while the rest of his team were still frozen stiff.


    ¡°Greetings, fellow warriors,¡± he said in as friendly a voice as he could. ¡°Might I inquire as to how you were able to sense our presence?¡±


    The other team blinked when they recognised him.


    ¡°You''re that spear guy who gave us trouble?¡± the blonde asked. ¡°I hope you don''t think our decision to retreat had anything to do with fear?¡±


    ¡°Oh? Enlighten me, if you would?¡±


    ¡°We''d already eliminated a few teams at the time. We were exhausted, so we thought it would be better to move on instead of wasting our time with you. If you want to fight now though, things will end differently. We''ve had a day to hone our team work, and you guys haven''t fought anyone the last few hours.¡±


    Rafe''s team came to stand around him as the man spoke, sensing the threat in his self important tone. Rafe put up his hands in a placating gesture though, a fake smile pasted on his face.


    ¡°Hey now, let''s be civil. We don''t intend to fight.¡±


    ¡°Then what are your intentions?¡± the gigantic demon said with a snort.


    ¡°Yesss,¡± Devila said emphatically, ¡°what are our intentions?¡±


    Rafe shrugged. ¡°You guys are strong. There is no doubt you''re strong. I figured if we stayed close to you, we''d be able to escape this trial without too much effort on our part.¡±


    The other team shared glances as Rafe''s words played in their heads. Then the blonde gunslinger started sputtering.


    ¡°You wished to¡­ ride our coattails. To have us clear a path for you?!¡±


    His artificially beautiful face was red. His chest was heaving, and his eyes were slitted. His hand was unconsciously twitching toward his gun.


    Rafe shrugged. ¡°That was my intention in the beginning.¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± the support mage, hooded as she was, spoke to the gunslinger. ¡°Let''s hear him out first, okay.¡±


    The man turned a sour look her way. Rafe smiled. He had known there was more to the woman than met the eye. The gunslinger was confident, and he was in a good position to watch and direct a battle but to lead? Yeah Rafe had his doubts.


    ¡°I think our teams would benefit from an alliance,¡± Rafe said. ¡°We know only ten teams can make it past this first stage. You have skills we lack, and we have skills you may lack. I think the rules of this room permit for some cooperation, don''t you?¡±


    Rafe had sensed it earlier. The battle for the most strategic position had ended. And the teams there had not been eliminated. The teams at the top of the cliff were forming an alliance. The excuse he himself needed.


    ¡°What do you have that we need?¡± the blonde man asked, outraged.


    Rafe shrugged. ¡°A dedicated healer. A dedicated big damage dealer.¡± He nodded toward both Quin and Aska. ¡°And of course, the Enchantress'' favoured disciple too.¡±


    Rafe let the other team mule over his words. He sensed, more than saw Devila turn to him with a look promising death.


    ¡°And what do you bring to the table?¡± the hooded support mage asked.


    ¡°My team''s cooperation,¡± Rafe said with a smirk. ¡°I might not have any special talents, but they do need me to survive the room so we can move on together.¡±


    The two teams studied each other for a long time. Then the blonde turned to the hooded mage.


    ¡°I don''t trust them!¡± he said.


    ¡°Neither do I,¡± the woman said, her voice placid.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Devila said, her eyes focused on Rafe. ¡°I don''t recall us discussing anything like this.¡±


    Rafe frowned. Sure they hadn''t discussed it, but this was a good path. Couldn''t she see how their teams working together would be unstoppable?


    ¡°What choice do we have? It''s either this, or we fight them here and now. I can assure you there is no way we are getting out of this unscathed even if we win. Besides, other teams are forming alliances too. This is just the third floor. Don''t you want to get higher up the tower? I know death isn''t permanent, but failing a room objective like this is¡­¡±


    Devila reeled back a little. ¡°The third¡­floor?¡±


    It seemed like a question. She looked around at everyone, who looked at her in confusion.


    ¡°In any case,¡± the hooded support mage announced. ¡°I have a way to ensure trust is not an issue.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Rafe asked, genuinely intrigued. Although maybe he just wanted to make sure the discussion wasn''t derailed.


    ¡°A contract spell. We sign a contract to fight together in genuine faith until the room is finished. Even if one of your team falls and it''s not our fault, you''ll be obligated to help us finish.¡±


    ¡°Absolutely not!¡± the enchantress and the blonde knockout said at once.


    ¡°That sounds like a lovely idea,¡± Rafe said as he stepped forward.


    Aska and Quin looked unconvinced. He had to remember everyone here thought they were the ones ascending the tower. They might have followed his lead a bit because of his better aura senses, but they had to look out for themselves first and foremost. It seemed like the hooded woman had dealt with the same issue multiple times.


    She pushed her hood back, revealing a pale face. Her hair started out white but brightened towards blue in the middle and violet towards its ends. There were hints of scales at the edges of her cubic face.


    ¡°My name is Andragoth. It''s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, partners.¡±


    ¡°I''m Rafael, but you can call me Rafe. That there is¡­¡±


    He pretended he hadn''t noticed his team hesitate. He pretended he was shocked they had stayed back.


    ¡°Come on guys, we don''t have time for this. The faster we can learn from these obviously more experienced combatants, the faster we can leave this room and move on.¡±


    They were still hesitant when they moved forward. Andragoth started her contract spell immediately, having noticed what Rafe had done. He''d played into his team''s owe of Andragoth and her team''s strength. And he had also played with the other team''s pride. Rafe found he rather liked being manipulative, when it suited him.


    He noticed Devila wasn''t paying attention to the spell though. He frowned when he noticed her start to mumble something, and he went to pay attention.


    ¡°The third floor? This is just the first floor.¡±

 Chapter 48. A Broken Contract

    Rafe studied the magic circle that appeared, happy to get more practice for his mana sight. With his increased perception to the internal operations of magical constructs, he saw a lot more than he perhaps should have.


    Contract magic¡¯s biggest component was pure mana. It was a different pure from the enchantress'' jade coloured arcane magic. This one was white. But there were other energy signatures he saw there too. He suspected one was soul magic, although he''d never seen that before. He watched as Andragoth finished her incantation.


    Then he frowned.


    ¡°You just have to say what the contract is for. In this case, it''s to not betray each other, first and foremost. And then to support each other like our lives depend on it.¡±


    Everyone else hesitated. Rafe said the words first. He watched with rapt attention as a strand of intertwined mana types started to float towards him. They reached his body and¡­dissipated. Rafe''s frown deepened.


    He watched the same thing happen as everyone else said the words. He looked up slowly. The contract mage''s eyes widened when she saw the suspicious look Rafe sent her way. Then she smiled and winked at him.


    Rafe just hoped he hadn''t doomed his team. He couldn''t tell anyone the contract hadn''t taken hold. At least not until he could figure out what the woman with the magical hair wanted.


    They would fight immediately if he wasn''t careful. At least Devila would attack without a second thought. He also remembered Devila''s assertion that this was just her first floor.


    How were these people connected to the legacy trial? Rafe couldn''t figure it out. Were they also running the tower like him? Had they finished their trials together? That was the most plausible explanation, but this was Devila''s first floor.


    Rafe considered everything he knew about Devila. She was confident, even a little smug. She wanted to be the strongest, even believed she was. She was perhaps the lowest level here, aside from him of course. And this was her first floor. What did all that tell him? She had, or was having a special first floor, just like he''d had a special second floor. What did it mean?


    With a shrug Rafe let it all roll off his back. Andragoth had taken to giving orders already.


    Rafe was going to keep a careful eye on the woman. There must have been a motive to the woman''s deceit. He had to find out what she knew. He was also only one of two people who knew that betrayal wasn''t the end all for their little alliance.


    ****


    ¡°You have such a strong team,¡± Adrian, the blond gunslinger said as he came to stand next to Rafe.


    Rafe only nodded.


    In front of them, Devila and Quin went on to dismantle a full team of four in just under thirty seconds.


    The warrior mage and healer assassin had decided to use Rafe''s combination formation. Devila as long range and Quin helping if anyone came in close.


    Though Devila did not start by throwing her whip up anymore. She''d wait, using spells and her signature exploding talismans to bombard the enemies from a distance. Once they were in the whip''s range, she''d strike like a snake.


    She''d become even more deadly over the day they''d travelled with this new group. So deadly in fact that Rafe thought everyone feared her. Whenever she participated in a fight, at least one person would die in five seconds, no matter how strong their opponents.


    She''d also apparently gotten one more level for all her trouble.


    Rafe sighed in response to Adrian¡¯s subtle dig. He had fought a few times as well, and he struggled to end a fight if he didn''t catch his enemy off guard. The stat difference was becoming a problem, but more so was the difference in specs. His offense was just too low to produce any noticeable damage in a small period. He wished he could use his sword.


    ¡°What can I say, I got lucky.¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± said Adrian. ¡°You are very lucky. Lucky our glorious leader decided having you around is worth it to keep the other three.¡±


    In the background, Aska spoke his head off as he tried to start a conversation with the masked assassin. His team were not sure if the assassin was a boy or girl, and neither were the assassin''s team. They did nod along and gesture to Aska''s words, but Rafe had yet to hear their voice.


    ¡°Great talk, Adrian. You know, you''re a fun guy to be around,¡± Rafe said with a too-big smile. ¡°You want me to ask Andragoth out on a date for you?¡±


    ¡°You better watch your mouth, pleb, or I''ll¡­¡±


    ¡°You''ll what? There is a contract, you know. I would be surprised if there wasn''t some kind of penalty for unprovoked violence.¡±


    Rafe walked away from the annoying blonde man. He needed to talk shop anyway.


    ¡°Hey Raedis,¡± he greeted his fellow melee warrior. ¡°Want to have a spar later?¡±


    The demon looked around and down at him. Then he grunted. Later, he meant, Rafe knew. The big guy reminded him of his old friend and party member from his days in Aeon. A pang of impatience hit him when he thought of Aeon.


    The world would be wiped clean. The people would lose themselves once Noid recovered enough to start handing out trials again. He needed to climb the tower faster if he was going to have enough time to beat the enchantress'' deadline.


    He also needed a solution to his slow leveling speed. He was starting to see the use of stats. More than stats though he was seeing the importance of specifications. If he wanted to be relevant at the moment, he''d need very strong, very specialised equipment just to keep up with these guys.


    He could fight them any time of the day, and he probably wouldn''t lose. But he wouldn''t win either. He watched the fight between Devila, Quin and the other team wind down. With his path as a pure warrior, would he ever have the sheer attack power Devila did? The freedom Quin did with her able to heal herself?


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    Well, he had his path, and they had theirs.


    ****


    Rafe did not sleep for the two days they stayed with the other team. He watched them like a hawk, trying to suss out the contract mage''s intentions in making a false contract.


    ¡°Rafael, why don''t we take this on together?¡± the same woman said as they watched two groups meet to discuss terms.


    They had run across a multitude of groups in the past few hours forming, or having already formed alliances. They couldn''t let such groups form though, as only ten teams would qualify past this stage. A bigger alliance than theirs, or even an equal one was just a disaster waiting to happen.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Devila said skeptically. ¡°You guys take the left, and me and Quin will take the right.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Andragoth said. ¡°Me and Mr Kingsley will take them all.¡±


    There was a small pause as everyone let the words sink in.


    ¡°Is that wise?¡± Devila asked first. ¡°Our team do need Rafael to¡ª¡±


    ¡°You are our leader, Andragoth,¡± Adrian interrupted her. ¡°Let me fight with the laggard.¡±


    Rafe wanted to sigh in exasperation. Teaming up had been good for his team overall. Unfortunately there was always the small negative. Devila had regressed to her confident self over the past few days, her mistakes on the first day forgotten. Rafe had also gone back to being the pariah on the team since he couldn''t seem to finish off enemies when he engaged them.


    ¡°Don''t worry about those two, Rafael. I have the utmost confidence in your abilities.¡±


    Rafe gave her a flat look.


    ¡°Yeah¡­sure.¡±


    Finishing Noid¡¯s trial, speaking to the gods of Skyholm. In those moments, Rafe had felt he had the world at the tip of his sword. This whole floor of the trial was proving a sink for his confidence though.


    His invulnerability had already been threatened on the previous floor when he''d lain in the dark for days. Now even his strength which he''d thought sufficient was turning into a joke.


    ¡°Do not lose your head, Mr Kingsley,¡± Andragoth instructed as they headed toward their targets. ¡°You are not as weak as you think. I can tell. Even Raedis and the others can tell. I''m sure Adrian and Devi know too. That''s why they are trying to get your mood down.¡±


    ¡°You really are cut out to be a leader, aren''t you?¡± Rafe said, not bothering to hide his envy. ¡°I know I''m not weak.¡±


    ¡°No, you don''t know.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Rafe couldn''t help but ask.


    ¡°Later. We seem to have been noticed. Get ready. I''ll buff you. Maybe get you a bit more confidence.¡±


    Rafe wasn''t sure why Andragoth had chosen to approach the way she had. They could have sneaked up on the obviously distracted group but when he''d started to slow down and crouch the woman had only kept walking and talking. Not even lowering her voice in the hearing range of their enemies.


    Rafe got into a stance, his spear pointed forward. Andragoth had her hood up, her short swords up as well.


    ¡°Only two of you, aye? Where''s the rest of ¡®em? You one of those who was eliminated who''s trying to cause the rest of us problems?¡± the biggest man from the two teams spoke.


    ¡°You could say that,¡± Andragoth said with a shrug, her voice cold and professional as it always was when she came to deliver death.


    Rafe launched himself ahead of her. He almost batted it aside out of instinct when he saw her mana move toward him through his racial ability. He fought his own instincts. Then when the spell hit him and he felt his blood start to boil, Rafe cursed himself for forgetting he didn''t trust the woman as far as he could throw her.


    ¡°What did you do?!¡± he growled in her direction.


    ¡°Just focus on your enemies,¡± she said in reply, and Rafe saw her lower her swords through his racial ability.


    He growled as he turned all his attention to those in front of him. He hated unreliable teammates more than he hated anything he could think of at the moment.


    His blood boiled and he saw red. He did not have time to systematically try to get through his opponent''s guards with skill and grace as he had been trying to do the whole floor so far. He just bulled through them when he got the chance.


    Sure, a strong defensive spec meant automatic defense most of the time. But such flimsy things could be crushed. Rafe thrived on fighting stronger opponents. He had a skill to augment his strength. Why did his offense spec even matter?


    He growled as he feinted a thrust. His opponent tried to step around and into the short range where a spear wielder should be disadvantaged. Rafe already had his dagger in his left hand. It was easy to send it through the man''s left eye before his reactive force field, or veil, could activate.


    Rafe was already charging the next. The trance took him. He had noticed an increased resistance to the skill over the last few floors. He only surmised it was because he wasn''t using a sword, and therefore his Aeon''s Sword Mastery skill.


    Now something had triggered him. He was going to kill Andragoth after this. And the rest of the damn leeches too. So what if he failed the floor? He didn''t even care about doing the tower. He wanted to go back home.


    Only, where was home? Aeon, or Earth? Rafe shook his head. That did not matter. Only his enemies¡¯ deaths did. And that bitch Andragoth was an enemy now too.


    ¡°You will die!¡± he said, and even he did not recognize his voice.


    There were only five enemies left by now. All Rafe saw was red. They started to back pedal, looking scared or something. Rafe chased after them. Still somehow graceful and deadly even under all the anger he felt.


    ¡°DIE!¡±


    And they all did.


    Rafe stood there, not even panting. He frowned at the bodies he had mutilated with a spear. It hadn''t been enough to tire him out.


    Well, there were more still, weren''t there? He turned to Andragoth, let his teeth show.


    ¡°Your turn, demon!¡±


    Andragoth was smiling and starting to clap but she froze and frowned at him. She looked back to where their comrades were not looking at the two of them.


    She sighed. ¡°He didn''t hear you. Good.¡±


    She looked Rafe up and down.


    ¡°Even more curious. So you are not from the multiverse proper, if this is how you truly feel about demons?¡±


    ¡°I''m going to kill you,¡± Rafe said as he took one menacing step in her direction.


    ¡°Oh? Are you now?¡± the girl smiled widely. ¡°You are weaker than I thought too. Not in terms of combat prowess, mind you. Your stats¡­I wonder what level you are.¡±


    Rafe froze. Alarm bells went off at the back of his mind. His level was a secret. If she found out about it she would¡­


    Rafe couldn''t remember what would happen if she knew his level. What he did know however, was that it wouldn''t matter if she died.


    He flew at her. She blew some kind of powder toward him. Rafe tried to dodge around the attack but it was an impossible feat. He coughed as the powder made its way up his nose.


    He waited one moment, two. Nothing seemed to be happening. He lifted his head and stared at his enemy then. Her attack had failed. Now it was time to teach her pain.


    He took a step toward her and the next instant all he saw was the violet tinged sky with barely a layer between the atmosphere and space itself.

 Chapter 49. True Or False

    Rafe could only groan when he woke up to a legendary body ache. He tried to force himself up. That''s when his belly started to rumble and his chest begun to burn.


    ¡°I''d get away from him now, Quinsia,¡± Andragoth¡¯s voice came from some place very far away.


    He heard Quinsia agree and start to shuffle away but he paid her little to no mind. He bent over the bed he was on and relieved his bowels of the¡­blood. There was nothing in his mouth - in his belly - except blood.


    ¡°What the he¡­¡± he started to say but felt another pang hit him.


    All he heard was the belch of more and more liquid matter leaving his throat. His body shook even as more blood than was healthy poured out of him.


    He didn''t die. It was close though. And he knew if any of his teammates wanted to hurt him, there was no way he could defend himself right now.


    ¡°You can sleep now, Mr Kingsley,¡± Andragoth said.


    Her voice was gentle, like Maria Wilde''s when the girls got sick. It had been rare for any of the adults to get sick on Aeon, unless it was some kind of mana sickness. Children though, with their low stats were still at risk of contracting a few non magical bugs.


    Rafe found it somehow comforting to hear Andragoth''s voice. Which was strange because he remembered wanting to kill her. He remembered saying something about demons that he hoped Raedis hadn''t heard else they would never spar again. He also couldn''t remember why he''d been so angry.


    Then there was the fact that even exhausted and drained as he was, he wasn''t about to sleep next to this pile of stinking blood. Not only was it disgusting, but the stench was sharp and pungent. It wouldn''t let him rest.


    But then Andragoth muttered a spell, and the stench disappeared, and even the sweat causing him minute discomfort did as well. Then he felt the next spell hit him. He was a lot more sensitive to Andragoth''s spells since the fight. He was about to spring into a defensive position before his lucidity suddenly vanished.


    They were arguing the next time he woke. Andragoth stood a few armspans from his improvised cot, barring two people''s way.


    ¡°I just think the way you''ve been here all the time is borderline obsessive, leader,¡± Adrian said. ¡°You changed since we brought these four into our alliance. Do you want us to lose?¡±


    ¡°Don''t go blaming all of us,¡± Devila said. ¡°I just want to have a talk with Rafael, Andragoth. He is from my team, you know.¡±


    ¡°Report what you must, Adrian, and leave,¡± Andragoth said with a sigh. ¡°And you too, girl. We don''t have a lot of time left.¡±


    ¡°I am his team leader!¡± Devila''s voice rose.


    Andragoth ignored her, instead watching Adrian. Rafe couldn''t see him fully, but he could see the man had his arms folded over his chest in a combative stance.


    ¡°There is movement,¡± he said, though Rafe could hear his reluctance. ¡°The alliance of the cliff seems to contain about ten teams already. A lot of teams will be going there from what I can tell. There is likely going to be a final battle.¡±


    ¡°Is that so?¡± Andragoth said, sounding like she was lost in thought.


    ¡°Let me speak to Rafael!¡± Devila cut in again. ¡°This room is about to end anyway. We need to discuss our approach for the next room. He defeated two teams on his own, so he might not be completely useless. I need him to tell me his level. For accounting reasons.¡±


    Andragoth was quiet for a long time, seemingly contemplating Devila''s words.


    ¡°You will have to talk about this after the next battle, I''m afraid. We don''t have time for whatever drama you might steer up. Why do you even want this so bad?¡± Andragoth asked.


    Rafe was also very interested in hearing her reasons.


    ¡°I mean, sure the fight was impressive. But this kind of reaction to an epic buff spell says something about his stats, doesn''t it?¡± Devila fired back. ¡°He is probably the weak link in my team. If I''m going to finish this floor flawlessly then I''ll need¡ª¡±


    ¡°He is your weakest link,¡± Andragoth interjected. ¡°That is true, but consider the teams¡¯ compositions. The teams are actually well balanced and well weighted. I have this theory that the gods organised the teams so that people of equal but complementary abilities were teamed together. Don''t you also think the same? Isn''t that why you proudly declare you''re of a smaller level than all of us and yet somehow equal in terms of fighting prowess? Could it be you''re a bit insecure in your dominance now?


    ¡°Huh? That can''t be. Are you, the so-called heiress to the enchantress, worried someone with a possibly smaller level and even weaker class may have similar combat prowess to your own?¡± Andragoth finished. She sounded like a bully.


    Devila was quiet. Rafe could only see her fisted arms from where he lay on a makeshift cot. She was trembling.


    ¡°What in the void are you saying?¡± she seethed. ¡°That is ridiculous! That cannot be¡ª¡±


    ¡°Devila,¡± Quin, who''d been in a corner deep in the tiny room, said as she stepped past Rafe''s resting place and went to stand next to Andragoth. ¡°Rafael is not in the best state to receive visitors right now. Maybe we should talk with him before the next room starts.¡±


    Quin was taller than Devila, bigger than her. She blinked down at Devila as the smaller girl probably tried to glare her into submission.


    ¡°I am the strongest, even with the smallest level, even with the least skills. I worked harder than all of you. I bled. I am the leader!¡±


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    Quin did not back down though. ¡°And I am the healer. Besides, we never named a leader officially, as far as I recall. The room will be done within a day. Cannot you wait that long?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but¡ª¡± Devila started.


    ¡°Besides,¡± Andragoth chimed back in. ¡°Wasn''t it Rafael who convinced your team to join up with us? I took him to be your team leader, to be honest. He seems very competent. Isn''t that right Mr Kingsley?¡±


    They all three turned to him. Quin didn''t look very shocked, but Devila did. Andragoth smiled calmly at him. Rafe only had eyes for the ugly expression on Devila''s face.


    She was quiet for almost a minute, but Rafe could see her body shaking with rage. Her hands were fisted at her side and her back was ramrod straight. She turned away from him slowly. Her face was red. Her eyes promised him a lot of pain in the future.


    ¡°Well played, Rafael, competent Kingsley,¡± she said and then she left.


    Adrian had stepped aside once the drama had ramped up but now he frowned between Rafe and Andragoth. His implication was clear to Rafe. He walked after Devila.


    Andragoth shook her head as she watched him depart.


    ¡°She has a strong scent, the little enchantress. But him? I don''t think he''ll make it,¡± she said.


    Rafe looked at her in confusion. Adrian was plenty strong. He was plenty capable, as far as Rafe knew. He was one of the reasons he''d decided to join this team even though he didn''t like his personality.


    ¡°You disagree? Well, you shouldn''t. I know a lot more than you do, little one.¡±


    Rafe shook his head in denial. Whatever kinky mother-ish roleplay she was going for, he wasn''t interested. He turned to Quin instead.


    ¡°What was that about?¡±


    Quin shrugged. ¡°I guess your last fight has her curious. I''m not going to lie, I''m curious too. I''d bet Aska is as well. Only Adrian is curious from the other team though. Raedis seemed bored by the whole thing and no one knows what Lowa thinks.¡±


    Rafe stared at her blankly. She had said a lot, and he didn''t really understand why she was making a big deal out of his fight. He hadn''t even used his sword. That wasn''t his strongest and they were surprised.


    ¡°Um, who is Lowa?¡± he asked.


    ¡°The assassin,¡± she answered.


    ¡°Oh. So any particular reason you guys wouldn''t let Devila talk with me? I doubt she would have killed me.¡±


    ¡°I will explain to him, Quinsia,¡± Andragoth stepped in. ¡°Listen little Rafael, we are aware you''re the one this particular trial, featuring thousands of us trial takers, was meant for.¡±


    Rafe knew what she was talking about. He had suspected it. But then he thought deeper about it. These people, he''d always known, just like the people of Aeon, were merely props for his trial. Like NPCs. Only, the people of Aeon didn''t know they weren''t real.


    So then, how did Andragoth know? What was this particular trial anyway? That had been disturbing him so much since he had arrived at that entrance chamber that looked like a safe room at the beginning of this floor.


    ¡°You might not realise it, but the rest of us aren''t real people. We are phantoms. No, not even phantoms. We are not like the soul remnants of the gods of Skyholm. We are images, snapshots of what our owners were when they climbed this tower, I suspect.¡±


    ¡°Snapshots?¡± Rafe asked.


    Andragoth frowned and shared a look with Quinsia. ¡°Yes. There are these things in the multiverse that enable you to record a moment in time. We call them snaps, or snapshots. I did notice your culture is a bit backwards there at the end. What with how barbaric you sounded calling out another enlightened race. You are from an unintegrated planet?¡±


    Rafe did not answer her question. He was trying as hard as he could to interpret every one of her words, every one of her phrases. Here was someone who could tell him about the multiverse. But was that even what he needed to know the most right now. He hadn''t answered when Andragoth carried on as if he had.


    ¡°And your stats are very low, as evidenced by my skill affecting you so much. That or you only focus on your physical stats, which is possible since you don''t use any magic. But that''s also wrong. You smell of mana.¡±


    Rafe blinked at her. How did she not know it was offensive to say someone smelled of anything? Wasn''t she just accusing him of being barbaric?


    ¡°You have very low specs. Yet you can still fight at our level. Are you hording your free stats? That would make sense, albeit it would be idiotic. Are you at a genuinely low level? Also, how come you cannot handle an epic skill?¡±


    How the hell did she know that?


    ¡°My blood enhancement skill shouldn''t have given you that much trouble to control. And the backlash? Little Devila might think she is special for getting this as her first floor, but you¡­ you are something, aren''t you?¡±


    Rafe didn''t know what to say to that.


    ¡°Uh¡­yeah?¡± he answered lamely.


    ¡°Fine, horde your secrets,¡± she scoffed.


    She had literally given him no time to respond.


    ¡°Let us have a talk about your future,¡± she said.


    ¡°Wait just a second there. How do you know about the trial?¡±


    The scaled woman snorted. ¡°Our patrons are great at many things. They are gods after all. Perhaps the greatest pantheon the multiverse ever saw. They cannot, however, recreate the true soul of a person. They cannot recreate my true blood line for example. I knew I was a shadow the moment we spawned in. I also knew my team and everyone we fought against was false. I knew the moment we crossed blades you were a real person.¡±


    ¡°...I see,¡± Rafe said, though he really didn''t. ¡°And this bloodline?¡±


    ¡°A secret. Unless you are willing to marry into my family.¡±


    Rafe actually considered it for a moment. ¡°Based on your attitude, I would guess it isn''t you I''d be marrying. It isn''t a bad proposal, but a blind marriage is a bit¡­¡±


    ¡°Thank you for considering it anyway. I believe our position in the trial so far has been made clear?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. We need to attack that ten team cluster. I guess I can kind of see their plan. Force a battle royale of some sort. Stop all the turtling.¡±


    Andragoth nodded. ¡°That is indeed what I think as well.¡±


    Then she continued. ¡°Now, about the future. I can see they prepared you well, unlike a few of our brothers. You have some kind of ability protecting you from identify. That is good. It also means you already got your blessing?¡±


    The last was framed like a question.


    ¡°Hmm,¡± Andragoth mused after Rafe nodded. ¡°You have to hide this blessing once you make it into the multiverse. I suppose it''s lucky you''re from a new planet. Hopefully your planet has hundreds of years within the barrier.¡±


    Rafe couldn''t keep a hint of panic from showing on his face. He did not want to spend hundreds of years on a planet with low level beasts. How was he supposed to advance and come to challenge the enchantress? He did not hate his first home, but he did not want to abandon his second home either.


    ¡°I see you very much wish that is not the case. Well, it is rare anyway. A hundred years is way too long a time. Fifty years is the in the upper limit.¡±


    Rafe started to sigh in relief.


    ¡°Unless your world is an Essence Desert. Then you are stuck there for a few hundred years.¡±