“Dimensional splicer activated. Resistance not detected,” the world core of X2 said. “Travel to dimensional yer, designation: third hell, now avaible.”

  “Remember, you’ll have a slight bit of travel before you reach Druhmiyan,” Zhou Shan said. “The Unity and the Hegemony are the only two factions in the gaxy who the devils have granted this access to, and even then, only into a select region of the third yer of the hells.”

  “What’s there to be concerned about? We’ll just give anything threatening us a beating,” Orodan said.

  “Well… I suppose travellers at your level of power need not worry. Still, the outskirts of the third hell where you’re venturing are full of wild demons and dangerous habitats. No other pce within our gaxy is quite so votile and full of danger during travel,” Zhou Shan expined.

  Indeed, the High Sovereign gave a fair warning. Orodan had done some reading about the hells prior. Even before this long loop of his, the hells were known in the myths and legends of Astaia. Many centuries ago, a rge undertaking had taken pce, and the seventh yer of hell was scoured and purged by the Concve. It did this by using a device to open thousands upon thousands of dimensional portals into that yer, with each of these yers leading to an independent world.

  One of the worlds which had gotten caught up and inadvertently assisted the Concve as a result, was his home world of Astaia.

  And the accounts of what the Astaians had encountered were warning enough, and this was merely in the seventh yer of hell. To venture into the third yer where some travel was involved before reaching the neutral city of Druhmiyan? It wasn’t a safe trip by any means.

  For the average traveller at least.

  Orodan, Zaessythra and W78 were far from average.

  “How does this dimensional splicer work?” Orodan asked.

  “Splicer operation begins once specific frequency is inputted. Device targets dimensional yer based upon inputted data,” the command nexus, world core of X2 said.

  “An intricate device. The hells trusted you with the coordinates, but how does the device work internally?” Orodan asked.

  “Information: runic cipher.”

  “Just like the dwarven runes then… interesting,” Orodan muttered. More and more he was considering the idea of studying these runes. Of course, it would be a long journey, and he had yet to fully understand the basic Enchanting skill, which he felt was a pre-requisite in the matter.

  “You can gawk at runes upon your return,” Zaessythra said. “For now, the hells await.”

  Without any further ado, the three of them stepped forward and into the shimmering yet stable passage created by the dimensional splicer. The hells were an entirely separate dimension, and consequently, one needed to utilize dimensional travel to get to and from them. Spatial travel methods only worked within the same dimension one was in; attempts to use spatiomancy from one dimension to another ended in failure, although Orodan had yet to truly try and force the issue.

  Unlike his trip to Narictus where they’d also used dimensional travel, this one wasn’t quite so bad in terms of the wobbling and stepping into multiple different dimensions before finally arriving. Rather, they stepped forward, and in a singur motion they arrived at their destination.

  The first thing Orodan saw were fmes. Lots and lots of fme.

  The rge chamber they’d stepped out of the dimensional passage and into had braziers of hellfire lining the walls and chandeliers dangling from the ceiling. From his battle against Devil King Saathmaraz, he knew that these maroon fmes were hellfire, and they were normally supposed to be absorptive of light, incapable of giving off any luminosity of their own as the shadows cast by them were unnaturally dark.

  “Didn’t know hellfire could illuminate a room,” Orodan said.

  “Only at our command, human. Intruders arriving here will have a less than pleasant time. Have you perhaps taken a wrong turn?”

  The voice was deep and guttural, inhuman. Rather simir to the other Devil Kings he had met before. And it belonged to a hulking Arch-Devil with multiple horns protruding from their head. He wasn’t sure if their species had genders, but this one looked to have a more feminine figure than the two other Devil Kings he’d encountered to date. Not that it meant this Arch-Devil was any less physically imposing as a result. If anything, it looked bigger and mightier than any other Arch-Devil or demon he’d met before.

  “No. We’re definitely in the right pce,” Orodan said. “We’re headed for the neutral city of Druhmiyan, to meet with the council of the hells.”

  “Ah, the diplomatic party I was told to expect. Only three of you? A half-dragon, the taskmaster and the time looper himself,” the Arch-Devil remarked. “I am Laviraaz, Keeper of the Bargain Gate. Wild beasts, independent tribes of demons and the occasional sweeping raid by illegal cults; I hope you came prepared, for the journey to Druhmiyan may prove a bit… perilous.”

  “I’m hoping it is, a bit of battle would liven up our travels!”

  “We’re here on a task Orodan…”

  “Analysis: odds of mission success swiftly deteriorating.”

  Orodan could only grumble at his companions’ compints. What was the issue with enjoying a good fight? Sure, they were on a mission, but that didn’t mean enjoying the sights and fights along the way was prohibited. How often did he get the chance to traverse such a hostile environment and find strong foes to fight?

  The Arch-Devil Gatekeeper ughed.

  “I see what they said about you isn’t inaccurate now, is it? Perhaps those quibbling idiots in Druhmiyan could use a good blooding.”

  #

  After a wonderful journey through exotic climates which involved much interaction with the local flora and fauna, their party finally arrived. Past forests of soul-devouring trees, beyond deserts of flesh-shredding sand and farther than the canyons of demonic rock where gigantic vortexes of hellfire swirled. After all that, y the city of Druhmiyan.

  There was distance to cover yet. And normally a city wouldn’t be visible from so far away. Except for the minor detail that Druhmiyan was high in the sky, floating in the air, held aloft by a gigantic crystal propelling hellfire downwards, scorching the ground beneath it.

  “At st, we’re here,” Orodan said.

  “Don’t you dare speak as though you haven’t been the sole reason we’re a day ter than pnned,” Zaessythra said. “You’re lucky I accounted for your stupid proclivities and we began a day earlier.”

  “We’re not even that te!” Orodan protested.

  “Information: predicted travel time - twelve hours. Actual travel time - thirty-six hours,” W78 called out. That traitor…

  “Alright, so I may have fought a few more creatures and people than intended,” Orodan admitted. “Is there anything wrong with enjoying the sights and getting to know the locals?”

  “You wandered off and sughtered three entire tribes of hell wolves,” Zaessythra said.

  “What was I supposed to do? They attacked me and refused to retreat,” Orodan defended.

  “You then killed almost a dozen demonic sandworms...”

  “Which again, was a case of self-defense,” Orodan said. “Not my fault they ck a sense of self-preservation.”

  “…and proceeded to take an hour harvesting meat, scales and blood from the corpses.”

  “Which netted me the Butchering and Skinning skills! Plus, they look like they’d make for a tasty meal…” Orodan trailed off.

  “Those things look disgusting, nobody’s going to eat those,” she rebuked.

  Orodan dismissed her ignorant comments. What would she know about exotic cuisines and fine dining?

  “That’s your subjective view and not representative of the truth.”

  “Your horrid pate aside, let’s not forget the crowning achievement of our trek,” Zaessythra added, in a grandiose and sarcastic manner. “How you decided to track the cultists who tried attacking us back to their base, and then proceeded to butcher them all once you found out they were all complicit in ritual torture and sacrifice.”

  “I don’t see the issue with that. They ritually sughter people, and then someone like me comes by and executes them,” Orodan said. “Don’t tell me you disagree with that?”

  “Who cares if some stupid cultists died at your hands? They deserved it, but that’s not the point,” she said. “We’re a full day te and even if I accounted for it, the pnned meeting with the council starts in four hours. And what really irks me… is that you could’ve just used a damned Spatial Fold to cut the journey short. I was fine with you exploring, I humored it because why not? But you could at least try to respect the time frame we’re on.”

  “Isn’t spatiomancy supposed to be incredibly difficult if not outright impossible due to the shifting spatial currents?” Orodan asked.

  “Yes, for anyone else. Lest you forget, you’re the walking, talking impossibility that is Orodan Wainwright,” Zaessythra flippantly countered. “Any more dumb excuses?”

  Orodan shook his head.

  “You’re right. I won’t make excuses… I’m the reason we’re te and I can only apologize,” Orodan said. “Was the trek harsh on you?”

  “Most things here are beyond just unsightly, they’re an eyesore. Long have I heard about the hells, but to actually see it with my own eyes is an experience I won’t forget,” Zaessythra said. “But, I’m no whining nag. It’s not the journey which annoys me…”

  “What is it then?”

  “The fact that the mighty Orodan Wainwright rushed ahead and stole almost every kill,” she said while gring at him. “Did you not think my sword was thirsty for some blood as well?”

  “Well damn… I suppose I did get rather carried away, didn’t I?”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “This has been a nice little outing which I can admit to enjoying,” she said. “But we’re not here to py around. Soon, something horrible will come for you. Can you really afford to be gallivanting around like this? You forget sometimes, Orodan, that the rest of us are burdened by very natural things like concern for the future.”

  Orodan hadn’t even considered that Zaessythra might be under a lot of duress at the thought of the oncoming foe.

  He had been stupid.

  “You’re right… I shouldn’t have made light of your time and commitment in coming with me,” he said. “I can only take responsibility for my idiocy and try to make things right.”

  “Idiot, just get a move on… and don’t die at the end of all this…” she muttered quietly.

  Orodan didn’t reply, instead he simply looked forward and continued walking the short remaining distance.

  Druhmiyan was a city of Arch-Devils. Floating in the sky, due to the enormous propulsion of maroon hellfire coming out the bottom of the giant red crystal the city was mounted atop of. Orodan thought the city would fly up and away into the void if not for the two massive chains keeping it connected to the ground.

  The hells weren’t a part of the material pne. Still under the influence of the System, but not reachable through conventional travel. Beyond the skies above, y the ‘void’ which had a seemingly endless number of floating ndmasses and captured worlds that the Devil Kings had conquered and absorbed into the hells. The floating gigantic ndmasses held ecologies and occasional bits of hellish civilization of their own. Simirly, Druhmiyan itself was chained to one of these floating ndmasses.

  “They say that this is the real seat of power within the hells,” Zaessythra said. “The first yer and the Citadel of Sin are more of a military stronghold, while this is where all the politicking occurs. Schemes are carried out, souls sold… and deals made with the devils.”

  “In other words, a den of backstabbing worms who’ll enjoy speaking in circles?” Orodan asked. “I’m disliking the thought already.”

  “Expand your horizons a little. Life isn’t just about beating your enemies over the head and standing above their broken corpses, Orodan,” she rebuked. “There is more depth to politics, negotiating and striking deals than you would think.”

  “Perhaps. Yet at the end of the day, all deals and bargains are made under the threat of violence and power. Whether explicit or implied,” Orodan countered. “These devils can only make deals because they have strength which must be respected. And those seeking the security in such deals only do so because they ck direct strength.”

  “It isn’t that simple. Alliances based on mutual aid and the shoring up of one anothers’ weaknesses exist,” Zaessythra said. “A faction known for their craftsmanship and powerful economy isn’t weak for allying with a militarily powerful one.”

  “And yet, if both of these factions had enough power, such an alliance wouldn’t strictly be necessary,” Orodan said. “ My words might seem crude, and in a sense they are, yet there’s some truth in what I say. Economics, military might, diplomacy, there are multiple avenues of strength, yet in the end it’s what everything boils down to.”

  “Your philosophy is heavily colored by your uniquely mad drive for battle, alongside your rough upbringing,” Zaessythra said. “Still, there’s a kernel of truth in what you say. Even then, Druhmiyan isn’t all politicking and subterfuge though. The ws of this city allow for trials by combat and honor duels. Something a good portion of the popution are reported to engage in. I’m certain you’ll enjoy that aspect of it.”

  “Good, I can’t wait!”

  “Do try to rein yourself in a bit though. We’re here to meet with the Council of the Devil Kings and introduce ourselves as well as try and explore your almost amicable retionship with Devil King Saathmaraz,” Zaessythra said. “We’ll need to not only appear strong, but also mitigate the fact that we’re coming to the hells to ask them to remain neutral in the first pce. Wantonly going around causing a ruckus will only make them think we’re desperate and making a dispy of rattling our sabers.”

  “But wouldn’t that be the ideal scenario?” Orodan asked. “What better way to project strength than by doing exactly that? It would show that we’re not concerned about the consequences.”

  “Not in actuality.”

  “Indeed, in actuality. Do you think I surround myself with allies because I need them Zaessythra?” Orodan asked, suddenly serious. “This entire debacle is far beyond my comfort zone. I’m used to fighting on my lonesome. Right from the beginning, my battles against House Argon in Ogdenborough were on my own. I fought alone, and I died alone. These long loops are something I detest. The people, the friendships I’ve forged… do you think I enjoy the thought of having to lose it all, over and over? Worst of all, watching as many of them die on my behalf? I much prefer to be alone. Getting used to the company and then losing it all is a harsh burden to bear.”

  “And that justifies you fighting alone? When the Reject arrives, if the Prophet decides to exact vengeance, will you stand alone against it all?” she asked.

  “You know me by now… what do you think my answer is?”

  “…yes. Of course, you’ll go ahead and march to your death alone…” she muttered. “You’re an idiot, and I won’t allow it.”

  “You have no say on how I confront my own battles,” Orodan argued.

  “Like you decided to make enemies of the Hegemony on my behalf? Orodan Wainwright, the hypocrite,” Zaessythra mocked. “Do as I say, not as I do. Is that how you carry yourself?”

  “A false equivalence! I would never restrict you, I’ve said as much,” Orodan said pointedly. “But how I choose to embrace my potential end is my choice and mine alone. Weapon in hand, foe in front… and the smile of satisfaction at a glorious battle on my lips. That’s all I want. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, and then the time loops came for me.”

  “You really are mad, Orodan Wainwright… how the master of these time loops has managed to anoint a suicidal buffoon is a mystery,” she said. “And I’m not arguing to have you stay your course, Orodan, although System knows I’d prefer it.”

  “Then what are you trying to say?”

  “I’m saying… that I intend to join you.”

  “You-”

  “Information: destination - Druhmiyan, within range. Multiple signatures approaching,” W78 said, and Orodan turned to him with a gre for the interruption, hot was his temper. “Analysis: subject emotional state heightened. Hypothesis: unit at risk of imminent aerial travel.”

  No.

  W78 had been nothing but a good friend to him. To ever lose his cool on his metallic friend would be a despicable act.

  It took some effort, but Orodan forced his temper down. It burned hotter because he knew that Zaessythra was right. He wasn’t a hypocrite, and it went against his principles to deny anyone their agency in choosing when and where to fight. He was self-aware enough to see this and recognize his own fwed reasoning.

  Yet, his past experiences in having others die on his behalf remained fresh in his mind. Adeltaj, Vespidia and Zaessythra herself. He was tired of people dying for him. The matter was still unresolved… but it would have to wait, as the Arch-Devil commanded squad that was flying down from the floating city to welcome them took precedence.

  The area directly under Druhmiyan was a gssed crater which would doubtlessly be mined for precious volcanic rock and fought over by various local factions when the city moved on to another location. It was practically lifeless, for not even the hardier demons and Arch-Devils could survive the powerful hellfire propelling the city upwards and leeping it airborne.

  It was devoid of life save one kind… hellfire elementals.

  Orodan had seen a spirit mage once upon a time on Astaia; Elidibus Astarti, during the Inter-Academy Tournament on Astaia. And he’d encountered a few of them during the various battles he’d been in since. They weren’t the mightiest of mages, and the ones worth any salt in battle relied first on their own power and then used the summoned spirits as a supplement.

  But where did the summoned spirits and elementals come from? From dimensions and astral pnes, one of the rgest ones being the hells. Elementals of various fvors were common in the fifth and sixth yers of the hells, but even among them, hellfire elementals were exceedingly rare.

  Regur fire elementals would almost always be absorbed into the hellfire and lose themselves entirely. A select few however… adapted and overcame the hellish fmes, becoming hellfire elementals. Groups of them flitted about the stream of maroon fmes keeping Druhmiyan aloft. And they were a matter of some interest to the demonic city’s inhabitants as young demons were, under the supervision of elder handlers, attempting to cajole the elemental beings into leaving the stream and potentially becoming a familiar for them. Still, the occasional hellfire elemental would get rowdy and need a beating, which was why a heavy guard presence commanded by an Arch-Devil was required.

  It was this Arch-Devil who’d diverted a good portion of the hellish guard and was now approaching Orodan. It looked rather angry.

  “I’m no expert on Arch-Devil facial expressions, but given how angered the commander looks, it’s safe to say we aren’t getting a procession of flowers and trumpets,” Orodan joked.

  “Given how close we are to the meeting we’re supposed to have, do you bme them?”

  Not really. He couldn’t.

  “A human, a half-dragon and one of our metallic friends from the Unity,” the Arch-Devil commander said. “Your presence was expected a day ago. Is there a reason for such… dey?”

  “We make no excuses for our tardiness, unexpected events occurred during the course of our travels,” Zaessythra said.

  “It’s my fault actually,” Orodan said as he walked forward. “I ended up getting into a few more fights than pnned. wolves, worms and a cult. I was engaged in a bit more killing than strictly necessary.”

  He could’ve used spatiomancy too, or at least attempted it. But the battles took up his notice and nobody bothered to remind him. He decided not to throw any comments towards Zaessythra and why she hadn’t spoken up earlier if they were indeed running so te. Orodan couldn’t confirm it, but he had a hunch that she enjoyed watching the butchery more than she let on.

  The Arch-Devil looked to his right and gestured for another demon to speak.

  “Lord Valmoraaz… the human speaks true,” spoke one of the nearby demons, a fat bull demon, the likes of which he’d fought within the Ascendent Sword Cluster. “Our scouts reported a number of hell wolves fleeing the area and attempting to migrate further west. Our script-bearers also picked up dimensional phase spiders entering and migrating into the stretch of desert on the route from the Bargain Gate.”

  “Which shouldn’t be possible when those things are naught but tasty treats for the sandworms. Which means the worms y dead,” the Arch-Devil Valmoraaz said. “And my ears within the cults tell me of the utter silence of the one nearest us to the south. Hmm… I see. They didn’t just send any human did they? The whispers from the material pne reach our ears, and the mortals often cmor about a man who goes about seeking battle like a crazed berserker. And that he is a time looper.”

  “That would be me. Orodan Wainwright,” he introduced. “I’m in a-”

  “A time loop, yes, yes,” Zaessythra interrupted. “With how often you say it, everyone and their grandmother knows. Anyhow, we come on business and have a meeting with your council.”

  “We were forewarned of your arrival, half-dragon. You may enter,” Lord Valmoraaz spoke. “Go ahead, into the city. And take care not to attract any undue attention. Many denizens of Druhmiyan are often looking to prey upon newcomers with nefarious bargains… try not to sell your soul to a devil, hahahah!”

  “With this stubborn fool, I have no concerns of any such deal ever going through,” Zaessythra said. “Or any deal occurring for that matter…”

  She muttered the st part quietly but Orodan overheard her. Melodramatic in his opinion.

  Still, they walked forward as the group of demons guarding the outskirts and fme pilr of Druhmiyan made way for them. The two gigantic chains which tethered the city to the ground and its current location were also the points through which people would enter. The chains were embedded deep into the ground, and a crew of gigantic hulking ogres stood ready to either insert the chains or pull them out when the city was ready to depart. Next to them, a teleporter was set up, and foot traffic could be seen coming and going under the vicious and scrutinizing gaze of demon guards.

  “Before you go, time looper. Just be aware that many in this city harbor feelings of unease towards you,” Lord Valmoraaz said. “And for some, it’s a feeling of outright hostility. Especially for those affiliated or friendly with Devil King Gutriyaz’s faction. Word of your… purification abilities, has spread.”

  “I have no intention of purifying anyone of their core being. The Concve and I share a mutual foe in the Hegemony, that’s the extent of our retionship,” Orodan said. “Why tell me all this?”

  “I tell you this because my faction leader, Devil King Saathmaraz, is quite interested in pursuing amicable retions with you,” Lord Valmoraaz answered. “Although, it’s good to know you harbor no particur prejudices against us. In line with what we’ve heard of your argument against the Captain-General of those vile zealots.”

  Orodan hummed in assent, and wondered how good the spy network of these devils was for them to have knowledge of a meeting deep within the Unity’s world core.

  “There are competing factions within Druhmiyan then?” Orodan asked.

  “Indeed. Any Devil King of note maintains holdings, businesses and influence within this city,” the Arch-Devil said. “The Citadel of Sin is where the power of our military lies and the Overking maintains his personal forces. But this city is where all devils gather. Be warned, time looper, my liege is powerful, but not the mightiest of the Devil Kings. Devil King Gutriyaz’s faction is of note, but nothing concerning in the grand game. His mentor, the Script-King Athando-Elraaz is a particurly powerful pyer and the driving force behind Gutriyaz himself. And if rumors are to be believed… the Overking has his eyes set upon your approach as well.”

  “Fantastic… all these powerful people, lining up for a good fig-”

  “What he means to say,” Zaessythra interrupted. “Is that we will be treading diplomatically. Thank you Lord Valmoraaz.”

  Orodan rolled his eyes at her diplomacy, but supposed he should allow her to take the lead most of the time.

  “A soul-sworn loyal to my liege will be waiting up on the city to guide you,” Lord Valmoraaz said. “Take caution not to venture too far. The agents of rival Devil Kings are always seeking an opportunity to get one over us. Devil King Saathmaraz’s deal with you has not gone unnoticed. Some of the factions dislike you, but they’re among the minority of your potential enemies. Those wanting to take my liege down a notch are the more numerous group by far.”

  Orodan could only smile.

  That sounded positively fun.

  #

  Stepping through the teleporter wasn’t anything special. Orodan had walked through many before, and the spatiomancy and craftsmanship was nothing noteworthy.

  It was after stepping through that the wonders began.

  “Information: multiple scan attempts detected. All unknown scan attempts blocked,” W78 said.

  Of course they would try to scan them.

  The area he, Zaessythra and W78 had stepped onto was a ptform on the lowest part of the city. Ahead of them, gigantic walls and a massive gate. Atop these walls were creneltions and battlements staffed with hundreds of defenders. Besieging Druhmiyan by stepping through their teleporters, was a fool’s endeavor. The teleporter they’d come through wasn’t the guard checkpoint, ahead of them was the real one. And it looked prepared to y an absolute barrage of lethal fire upon any unauthorized arrivals.

  The foot traffic going to and from the gates toward the chain teleporters leading to the ground was sparse. Most civilians and non-combatants within Druhmiyan weren’t capable of nor expected to brave the harsh environment and monsters on the ground of the ndmasses of the third yer of hell. Among those going to and from though, were demons, Arch-Devils… and humans, elves, dwarves, vampires and even a half-dragon.

  The walls were made of a bck stone which looked very reinforced. And built in a manner suspiciously simir to dwarven craft.

  “They say that the dwarves are the finest builders in the universe,” Orodan remarked. “That wall would beg to differ.”

  “That’s because the dwarves did build these walls. The devils are nothing if not obscenely wealthy, and fshing some riches in front of the dwarves’ noses was enough to have the bearded sops making deals with devils,” Zaessythra said. Perhaps she was a bit biased against the mountain-dwelling race, given how they aided her enemies in destroying her world. “Demonkind isn’t bad at building, but their true specialties y in other things.”

  Like the possession and soul-binding Devil King Saathmaraz was capable of. Or the hellfire he’d encountered when facing Devil King Gutriyaz. And another thing he was seeing now… script-bearers.

  “An interesting form of body enchantment,” Orodan remarked.

  “More an exercise in self-mutition in my opinion, but a madman like you may see it differently,” she replied.

  The approaching gate captain wasn’t a demon, but a rather gaunt human.

  The stereotype of the hells being full of demons and the wicked was a commonly held belief upon Astaia, yet the truth was that devil society simply wouldn’t function without civility and healthy social bonds. The Arch-Devils as a race would have fallen long ago if they were too prejudiced to accept humans and other races into their fold. The lure of riches and the unique skills of the hells meant that many beings from other races were all too happy to join hands.

  Whether they joined on a contractual basis in exchange for something, or simply immigrated permanently, the hells had a sizeable non-demonic popution. Even worlds which were conquered and absorbed into the hells had their poputions peacefully and amicably assimited in the overwhelming majority of cases.

  The woman didn’t appear tortured, or unhappy, and a scan with Vision of Purity revealed no shackles or insidious influences upon her soul. What stood out rather starkly though, was the thousands of small scars, wounds and cuts upon her skin. Some of them were old and scarred, some scabbed over, and some actively bleeding. They all looked self-inflicted.

  The important fact being that each and every wound was in the shape of a rune or sigil.

  “The script looks familiar, yet different when compared against dwarven runes,” Orodan said. “And the energy flowing to and from the bleeding wounds is higher than those of the scarred ones. Intriguing… I wonder if blood magic is also at work.”

  He also mentally cross-compared it with Astaian enchantment script, which seemed inferior in comparison. And then, with the glyphs and sigils of the System, and very vaguely he felt there might be a simirity, but the System’s nguage seemed a far more evolved form of whatever these script-bearers were attempting. There were levels to this, and it seemed that not all magical script nguages were equal.

  Reflections on the script aside, the woman who bore it upon her skin, the script-bearer, didn’t appear bothered by the bleeding. It wasn’t a fatal rate of bleeding by any means and Orodan felt even the lower levels of Pain Resistance would allow for the disregard of discomfort. And even the Initiate-level in some form of self-healing would allow for sustainability.

  The approaching gate-captain overheard his questions, and decided to answer them herself.

  “It is. The sacred script of our forebears, though an honor to bear upon my skin, still requires a source of energy to empower it,” the gate-captain said. “Some do this through mana, others through soul energy. And others still through a more personal source of power…”

  “Blood magic, which draws from your own vitality,” Orodan finished. “Or that of others.”

  “I sense a great deal of vitality within you as well, time looper. Perhaps you might consider dabbling in the arts yourself?” she asked.

  “Too nefarious for my liking. I have no interest in butchering innocents to use their blood,” Orodan said.

  “It need not be so sinister. Many blood magicians among us are staunch warriors with a deep sense of honor,” she crified. “The only blood they use, their own. And often to devastating effect in empowering their own blows.”

  Something to consider, for another loop at least. While Orodan didn’t see himself throwing streams of blood against an opponent, the idea of drawing power from his own to strengthen himself didn’t seem like the worst concept. An exceedingly dangerous notion, which was why the overwhelming majority of blood mages used the blood of others; their own only being an option as a st resort. But when one had the endless energy and ability to recover vitality like Orodan did, it was another avenue of power.

  “I’ll think on it. For now, we have business within Druhmiyan,” Orodan said. “Lord Valmoraaz on the ground has allowed us entry.”

  “And Lord Valmoraaz did not say your metallic companion from the Unity would be hindering our scanning attempts,” the gate-captain challenged. “All entrants to Druhmiyan must undergo a scan. This city is neutral and open to select factions from our universe, but not without safeguards.”

  “Information: scanning targets identified as mind and soul. Analysis: likelihood of deception - high.”

  The gate-captain held a grimace on her face, but seemed unwilling to back down.

  “I know not of what you speak. Refusing to submit to scans will result in your eviction from the city,” she said.

  In the distance, Orodan could see a slender and tree-like being fast approaching their position from behind the gate-captain. Perhaps this was the guide Lord Valmoraaz had mentioned?

  In any case, he was tired of games.

  “Information: risk of confidential data breach - high. Risk of further tampering - high. Scan permission - denied,” W78 ominously said . “Solution: cessation of diplomatic contact.”

  Zaessythra seemed angered as well.

  “Surely you do not mean to force us to bare ourselves to a scan? There’s simply no way w-”

  “I challenge you to a duel for the right to scan me.”

  Silence met his procmation, and he sensed a small trickle of dirty mana leave a ring on the gate-captain’s finger as her face held a look of concern.

  The only noise he heard… was the loud and drawn out sigh of resignation from Zaessythra.

  “What manner of farce is this? You cannot simply challenge us to a duel for the right to do our duties,” the gaunt script-bearer said.

  “I can. I’ve been reading up on the ws of Druhmiyan. According to the Procmations of the First, when honor is challenged or grievances are aired, either party may demand an honor duel or a trial by combat,” Orodan stated.

  “This is not a matter of honor or a grievance! We are simply doing our duty! Look, if it means so much to you, we can simply waive the matter and allow you entry,” the gate-captain said, backing down. “I see rumors of your brash nature were not exaggerated. I am unwilling to engage you lest we risk a city-wide Blooding. My superiors wil-”

  “No. I demand a duel here and now,” Orodan decred, caring not one whit about how the approaching demons and humans stiffened immediately. “Not a matter of honor, or a grievance? You speak incorrectly on both counts. Your hidden motives in attempting to scan us are pin to see, thus I decre your honor worthless. And for wasting my time with such pointless drivel, you’ve inflicted a grievance. Now draw your weapon and fight me, or receive a beating where you stand.”

  The script-bearer was startled speechless by Orodan’s procmation. The other demons were silent too.

  “This is… I must summon my superior. This is a matter of Devil King Egrimaaz’s honor, and his loyal captains will want to fight you in his stead,” the gate-captain said. “As for myself, I’m woefully unprepared to face you, time looper. I was simply following the orders of my liege.”

  “So what? Your words and actions are duplicitous, without a beating you’ll not learn to amend your ways,” Orodan said.

  “Y-you would kill me?”

  The woman was but a Grandmaster. He would feel no threat with even a thousand of her arrayed against him.

  In response, Orodan simply raised his right hand into the air, looking down upon the smaller woman with an intimidating gaze. His eyes crackled with power, and the hand came down like the bde of an executioner…

  …to deliver an open-palm sp to the back of her head. The script-bearer yelped in surprise more than pain, and looked embarrassed to have been cuffed on the back of the head so publicly like a naughty child being disciplined.

  “Let the sting of that blow remain fresh in your memory as you call your betters. And let the one who gave you such an order know that I consider them a spineless cretin who dares not approach to do the deed themselves,” Orodan decred. “Now then, I have pressing business within Druhmiyan. Does anyone else wish to force the matter of a scan?”

  The demons and other devil-allied beings upon the walls and among the approaching party were silent. Save one; the tree-like being with bark-like skin who had been fast approaching earlier.

  “Time looper… my liege has been expecting you, please, let us make haste for the council chambers immediately!” the pnt-like being spoke. It was bipedal, but its skin was covered in bark, like a tree. “The agents of the other Devil Kings will hear about this incident very soon, and we must make haste to avoid-”

  “Avoid? Why would I want to avoid anything? Them hearing about it is exactly what I want,” Orodan said. “Instead of me going to the diplomacy, it’s better to allow the diplomacy to come to me.”

  Honestly. When he’d learned that there were multiple factions and much politicking involved, Orodan had dreaded the thought of such boring work. But with the unique ws in pce within Druhmiyan, who needed to engage in politics? Rather than seeking out allied factions, why not have all of his enemies come to him? Much easier to deal with them that way.

  “But that will… that will cause a Blooding!” the guide excimed. “We haven’t had one for a million years!”

  The Blooding. A unique phenomenon within Druhmiyan when either an honor duel or a trial by combat escated into an unstoppable chain of such challenges and duels that a rge number of powerful people died and the ensuing power vacuum was ferociously fought over.

  Usually, honor duels were carefully chosen and most people were smart and picked their battles. Killing someone whose close friend or family would then challenge you to a duel wasn’t typically done, and one had to bear the repercussions for winning in mind. However, when a particurly powerful person came along, and people saw fit to continually challenge them… a Blooding could occur and leave much to be gained in the aftermath.

  After all, the st Blooding had resulted in the crowning of the current Overking of the hells.

  And in Orodan’s opinion…

  “How about we have another one?”

  #

  “Little wonder that Arch-Devil we met seemed annoyed. There was no hiding the anger on his face,” Orodan said.

  “Devil King Saathmaraz had to expend a generous portion of his treasury and pull a few favors to ensure Lord Valmoraaz was stationed by the crystalfire stream upon your arrival,” the guide said. “Having your travel deyed by an entire day was not good news, and required an additional few favors to the watch-commander’s faction in recompense for keeping our loyal Arch-Devil there.”

  Which had Orodan feeling slightly bad for his gallivanting about the environs, but he wasn’t about to reverse time to undo the blunder.

  “In any case, I’m surprised you aren’t raising more of a protest about this, Zaessythra,” Orodan said. “Fallen into my way of thinking, have you?”

  “Don’t assume such things. That scarred ckey who tried forcing a scan upon us still has me in a bad mood, that’s all,” Zaessythra said. “I still think this is entirely stupid… but there’s… potential, in this entrance of ours.”

  The compliment came out most reluctantly, but that was a start.

  “Might I again reiterate how inadvisable this course of action is?” the guide said. “Word of you and your deeds has spread far and wide, and I have no doubt that you might be able to accomplish what you’re aiming for, but a Blooding will have repercussions sting milennia for the hells and shape the political ndscape for a long time. There are also some mighty peak-Transcendents and Gods among your potential challengers.”

  “All the better I say,” Orodan dismissed.

  “Your pns are usually foolish, but in this case, we’ve overawed the popuce and any spectators into spreading word for us,” Zaessythra said. “In a sense, simply walking through the city after such a show of disrespect is a message. We have four hours before our meeting, and enjoying the sights at a leisurely pace lets them know where we are and dares them to act.”

  She wasn’t wrong. Passersby, demons and otherwise, were giving them a wide berth and many were pointing and whispering at them particurly at him. If the messengers who’d doubtlessly run off to report his show of disrespect couldn’t do it… then these whispering civilians certainly would.

  His upbringing on Astaia had taught him that the hells were cruel, fiery and full of murderous demons and the wicked. Yet, the existence of Druhmiyan shattered the final vestiges of that stereotype within his mind.

  Sure, the streets were paved of sinister-looking dark rock, and nefarious towers and braziers of hellfire lined the roads at key intersections, but that was the extent of it. The hells, particurly most of the other floating cities and conquered worlds, weren’t a bad pce to live from what he’d read. Conquered worlds had their poputions peacefully and amicably assimited the overwhelming majority of the time, and life went on and even prospered under the rule of the Devil Kings. Druhmiyan was no exception.

  Traffic consisted of demons and other races, on-foot, or via carriage drawn by lumbering beasts known as shadow oxen which had an eerie aura of darkness but seemed friendly enough. Additionally, demons and humans often co-mingled, to the point that he even saw friends and lovers walking around together across species lines. Of course, the oddity was that there were no children in sight.

  “No families in this part of town?” Orodan asked.

  “Children are rare in this city, my lord. The environment not conducive for the fostering of the ‘family’ you humans prize,” the guide answered. “Druhmiyan is a center of political importance, and the ws permitting honor duels mean there’s often violence upon the streets. In comparison, other floating cities are safer, and conquered worlds under the rule of a Devil King are the ideal pce for children to be raised. Almost all of Druhmiyan’s popuce are some manner of specialist or combatant, even the civilians. They work here and their families live elsewhere.”

  If anyone told the old Orodan - before the time loops - that a world conquered and absorbed into the hells was the best pce to raise a child, he’d have ughed at them. Yet, once one cut through all the nonsensical literature that the Concve put out as propaganda, the hells honestly seemed a decent pce.

  Better pce to grow up than Ogdenborough anyways.

  They continued down the roads of Druhmiyan, walking at a leisurely pace and taking in the sights until the foot traffic itself changed in composition. The average person walking by now looked wealthier, their clothes more opulent. A human wearing an ostentatiously glittering ensemble of jewelry walked by, followed by two bull demon guards wearing gleaming armor. The guards and man both immediately gave Orodan a wide berth, and he was certain that they’d sent word to someone given the faint pulse of mana he felt leave a neckce.

  That aside, the streets now sported borers - specialized ones since nobody in Druhmiyan was just a common worker - and craftspeople. It was clearly some kind of production district, likely where the goods were made.

  “My lord… that was one of the Scribe-King’s storekeepers,” the guide said. And Orodan had to wonder how well-compensated the storekeepers were if they dressed so gaudy and had guards accompanying them. “He’ll have undoubtedly sent word to the Scribe-King himself!”

  “Looking forward to it,” Orodan said, ignoring the guide’s stammers. “Is this where all the production occurs? I don’t see many storefronts here.”

  Once the bark-skinned tree-man had recovered, he crified further.

  “Yes, my lord. These workshops are crewed by specialist crafters who turn many of the precious materials acquired into finished goods of tremendous value. The workshops would never sell the finished good directly to anyone and are required to turn their product over to the owners. The workshops are typically owned by wealthy Devil Kings and the skilled crafters, in their employ.”

  Some of the workshops had open dispys, allowing passersby to look into them, and Orodan saw the scene of an Arch-Devil bcksmith working alongside hellfire elementals to make weapons of great power. Assistants to the leading bcksmith worked tirelessly alongside their master, and the most junior of the bcksmiths did the hard bor of making the ingots.

  It was impressive. And he supposed that the sight of a workshop running was also a subtle dispy of the owner’s power. These buildings contained tremendous wealth, and were appropriately guarded of course. He sensed a mid-Transcendent level individual deeper inside the shops, not a crafter, but a combatant.

  And it was coming for him.

  It was at least fifteen feet tall, and the powerful muscles upon its frame practically rippled as it walked out of the workshop opening and approached.

  “So this is the human who dares to disrespect Devil King Egrimaaz?” the Arch-Devil asked. “The others cmor to face you, but I, Garvoroz, Captain of the Second Forge, shall sy you for your insults. Duel me here and now, and face your death with courage.”

  “Excellent, I’ll let you strike the first blow,” Orodan said. “You look strong, this is just what I need.”

  “Your time looping nature does not elude me. Yet, I have also heard of your stubborn nature and dogged sense of honor,” the Arch-Devil said. “Is this the first time we’ve met?”

  “Indeed, it is,” Orodan answered.

  “Good. Then here and now, within this loop, I challenge you to a duel for the honor of my liege,” the Arch-Devil said. “No repeats. If you lose here, I expect you to honor your loss and leave Druhmiyan for good, in all of your loops moving forward!”

  “I accept! Hit me already and let us dispense with the talking and commence with the fighting,” Orodan challenged.

  “Activate the mirror cage!” a nearby demon guard shouted as something was deployed just moments before Garvoroz’s fist connected with Orodan’s face.

  [Dimensionalism 28 → Dimensionalism 29]

  The world shifted in a strange manner. They were still within Druhmiyan, yet nobody else was present. For all intents and purposes, they’d been dragged into a mirror of where they previously were, without the inhabitants however.

  Just in time for a giant fist to impact his face with a most brutal crack.

  The buildings were heavily reinforced in Druhmiyan, yet the attack sent him through a dozen of them, and the shockwave of the strike blew apart a few more. Outside of the city, and in an environment where nothing had enhanced durability, that strike was likely to shatter half a moon.

  [Iron Body 87 → Iron Body 88]

  Orodan rose to his feet and had a smile on his face.

  It was pure battle lust. Normally, Orodan would’ve defended, or perhaps even dodged. Yet the first strike of a battle between warriors was a special one, and this gigantic foe - who was the most physically imposing Arch-Devil he’d ever seen - stirred the desire to test his own physicality.

  Still, it was cking in raw killing power. Devil King Gutriyaz, who he’d fought so long ago, hit far harder, able to destroy the entirety of Astaia’s moon in the attempt to kill Orodan.

  “Not bad. My healing was almost too quick for me to notice, but you cracked my jaw for the briefest of instants,” Orodan said. “Since you insist on fighting bare-handed, so shall I.”

  A Fsh Strike brought him up to the Arch-Devil, and immediately, Orodan began grappling with it.

  Orodan was nearing seven feet of height. This Arch-Devil was over twenty. The increased size meant that his opponent was in fact physically stronger than Orodan. And it was a comical scene, a man attempting to tussle with an Arch-Devil twice almost three times his size in a scramble of limbs.

  Yet, there were benefits to such an arrangement.

  [Physical Fitness 93 → Physical Fitness 94]

  Orodan’s head was driven into the ground and he was thrown about like a ragdoll. Yet, the smile never left his face.

  #

  “T-the cage is breaking!”

  “Too much raw energy within!”

  “Took you long enough, Orodan.”

  These were among the things he heard as the world shifted around them once again. Not due to anything intentional, but due to how the amount of power he was throwing around was causing the dimensional boundaries of the mirror dimension to crack.

  Thankfully, it was Orodan’s final All-Strike which obliterated almost half the Arch-Devil’s body that did the trick. The brutalized body of Garvoroz was flung out onto the streets of Druhmiyan like a ragdoll as both the Arch-Devil and Orodan returned to the real world. Good thing that blow had ended it. Continuing the battle within the actual city would’ve been a slight logistical annoyance and required the accounting of nearby innocents.

  “Y-you… you won…” the Arch-Devil weakly said as its body slowly reformed despite the certainly fatal wounds they would be on anyone without the self-healing and resilience of its species.

  “It was an excellent battle. With how much magic and spellcraft I throw around nowadays, one might forget that I’m a warrior at heart,” Orodan said. “One more level in Physical Fitness, and two in Wrestling and Unarmed Combat. This has been fantastic.”

  Indeed, fighting a mighty opponent that was far stronger had helped him acquire insights and push his physical limits. It was harder to find that nowadays when a rge portion of his opponents were either wary of the threat he posed in close combat or were simply unwilling to allow him any opportunities to battle due to knowing he was a time looper.

  “It took you two hours, and we have two more remaining before our meeting,” Zaessythra said.

  “And nobody else has shown up since?” Orodan asked, more than a little curious. “If they were intent on challenging me, they would’ve come by now, no?”

  “My lord,” the guide spoke up. “Lord Garvoroz here is Devil King Egrimaaz’s mightiest subordinate, mightier than his own liege in fact. I suspect the Devil King would be unwilling to challenge you now. Rather… a runner came by earlier bearing a message, saying that Devil King Egrimaaz wishes to meet you at the Parlor of Bargains.”

  “The Parlor of Bargains?”

  “The quintessential location for all contracts, negotiations and disputes within our city. It lies at the heart of the Markets of Opulence.”

  “In other words,” Zaessythra said. “Your act of trundling about the city and causing trouble has made them look weak. In asking you to meet them there, they reassert a measure of control and will undoubtedly have many of their allies gathered to deal with you. Alongside an audience.”

  “Come then, let’s be done with this stupidity,” Orodan said.

  He cared not for those who required audiences and grand dispys of power and audacity. Politics bored him, and he much preferred to beat his enemies over the head.

  They continued down the roads and towards the markets. And once more there was a subtle shift in the foot traffic as they went. Objectively, the humans, demons and other races walking by, began looking more attractive. Some were dressed luxuriantly, others in a more provocative manner.

  When he saw the first pair of elves waiting on the street corner, he had an inkling of what this district was about.

  A particurly fmboyant bull demon walking down the road with an opulently dressed elven man and a gaudily dressed dwarven woman on either arm cemented it for him.

  “We’re entering the Lanes of Lust now my lord. Whatever your persuasion, there’s certain to be someone willing to humor your desires,” the guide said.

  Workers whose trade was of a more intimate nature could be seen on the road side. Additionally, there were some rough-looking thugs bearing arms and armor who were around to ensure the workers were paid and no clients tried anything funny. Plus, there were armored guards and script-bearers patrolling the streets at regur intervals.

  Passing through the Lanes of Lust was a necessity if one was to enter the Markets of Opulence, at least, from this side of Druhmiyan.

  A rather provocatively dressed demon leered at him. Ashen skin, horns protruding from her head, and yet a feminine figure.

  “Oh my… since when are humans made so… sturdy? I wasn’t aware your sort could get so rge? How about we get to know on another more intimately, young lord?”

  “I’ll pass,” Orodan said. He could appreciate exotic cuisines and a good meal, but that aside, the baser pleasures simply didn’t interest him as much anymore. The love of battle called to him more than the thought of sharing a bed. And his unique circumstances meant he’d rather not get into any more entanglements. “I prefer the heat of battle to the warmth of the flesh.”

  The demonic woman looked not at all offended and simply smiled. A professional then.

  “Heh… why did I predict you would say exactly that?” Zaessythra said.

  “Because it’s true? You know I enjoy a good fight,” Orodan said. “Besides, back home nobody in that trade does it happily as their first choice. Leaves a foul taste in the mouth when you think about it.”

  “Not the case in Druhmiyan, my lord,” the guide said. “The Lanes of Lust are strictly monitored and governed. Courtesan health and safety are taken seriously, and you’ll find that many of those in the profession have their own methods of seeking strength. While I admit, those from human nds often look down on them, it’s not frowned upon within our society.”

  “Look down on them? Far from it,” Orodan crified. “I grew up seeing many of those pushed into that trade. Unlike in this city, it wasn’t a happy life back in Ogdenborough. But, there was still resilience in them, and many of them oft worked a second trade to make ends meet.”

  He wasn’t ignorant to the more cndestine parts of society. He had seen the excessively powdered and alluringly dressed men and women who would enter the tavern under Mount Castarian. He would occasionally see a few take a stop at the mayor’s mansion too. If he saw the herbalist’s daughter or the stable-boy from Scarmorrow during regur hours, he would pretend not to recognize them. Mainly because they did the same.

  People did what they had to in order to get by, and in pces like Druhmiyan, in order to advance. A high level in such skills might even allow one to ensnare kings and queens.

  Judgement was the farthest thing from his mind. If anything, that this city of demons took worker health seriously was something he could respect. After all, the whispers and criminal cases he’d read about in the bigger cities of the Republic back home, were best left unsaid.

  They ignored the workers attempting to catch the eyes of passersby, until finally the Lanes of Lust ended and the building demarcating the two was a tavern of sorts. A lively pce filled with demons and non-devils both.

  “Craving battle? Desire endless riches? Want a rge harem? Join Devil King Saathmaraz’s retinue today! Special sign-on bonuses and treasures included for Grandmasters and above!” a burly-looking bull demon recruiter cried out.

  “Hate the Concve? Want to do your part against their sanctimonious padins? Wield weapons which can hold against their wicked light! Empowered by the crystalfire and forged by the hand of Talveroz the Bck Hammer himself!”

  There were criers for many other products, and what Orodan suspected was the sparks of a bar brawl about to erupt as a human began aggressively attempting to steal a bull demon’s woman. While the thought of engaging in a friendly brawl sounded fun, it just wasn’t for him any longer. Reinforced as it was, Orodan stood a good chance of destroying Druhmiyan outright if he truly cut loose. Plus, nobody within the tavern was up to the task of challenging him. As his power grew, the ability to enjoy the smaller things diminished.

  With a sigh, he stepped past the den of drink and imminent fists to continue onwards. After all, past the tavern - which was a demarcating building of sorts - were the Markets of Opulence.

  There were dozens of storefronts all marketing fine products. From enchanted arms and armaments, to powerful potions and exotic monsters to bond with. The marketfronts were nice, however what Orodan truly came for, was the Parlor of Bargains.

  The gigantic building was the centerpiece of the Markets of Opulence, and it was where all manner of deals, negotiations and contracts occurred. The building was divided into two parts; the courts where people would take civil matters to the arbiter, and the bargain parlors.

  The courts were where people brought their small time issues forward and both agreed to whatever judgement was made. These arbiters were all appointed by the Council of Druhmiyan, and were typically a judge for the city as their regur trade. The cases being judged were small time matters, typically involving petty nonsense, arguments over the wording of a deal, or attempts to weasel out of soul contracts. High value cases were also judged in the courts, but nothing of a nature too criminal; those were the domain of the courts within Druhmiyan’s Council-Fortress at the peak of the city.

  The bargain parlor though, was where desperate people, shrewd merchants and predatory beings of power prowled. It was much like a marketpce, except what was being advertised were deals… and the price, people.

  “My family has been denied our rightful due under the draconian rule of Devil King Egrimaaz! I offer the souls of myself and the entirety of my house for any other ruler to attempt a takeover!”

  “I offer power beyond your reckoning. Rival Grandmasters in battle, and make Transcendents take notice with my rituals of empowerment. All for the simple price of a soul contract and some minor servitude…”

  …for five milennia. At least, that was what the fine print at the very bottom of the parchment said. The Arch-Devil - intentionally no doubt - had tall stacks of coins pced in such a way that shadows were cast on that portion too. Nothing too egregious as that’d likely get it in trouble, but enough to make it appear less noticeable.

  There were also a whole bunch of stiputions on who the person could and could not harm, which included the Arch-Devil providing the service and the entirety of its faction and allies. A devious but effective way of securing more manpower Orodan supposed.

  The bargain parlors were every bit the nefarious looking environment that one would expect. It was where deals with the devils were made, how could it not be sinister? The singur arbiter and the squadron of guards at their side vigintly overlooked the pce however, and even the most shady of demons offering deals looked visibly wary of their wrath. Social skills and mind control were strictly barred under threat of death.

  And for as much as Orodan had been taught otherwise on Astaia, there was no svery in sight within Druhmiyan. Supposedly, the practice had been entirely outwed during the reign of the previous Overking and had remained so since then. The devils alone were easy prey for those wanting to invade the hells. Appealing to the other races and making the hells appear a good pce to live was a far more effective strategy for resisting the constant encroachment of the Concve and its allies.

  Despite the somewhat vilinous appearance, it really was just business. A certain level of cut-throat behavior was expected, but none of them were truly malicious.

  There were a group of people that did have bad intentions though, at the very top of the stairs leading up to the arbiter’s station. The arbiter and its guards appeared wary and submissive towards them as well.

  “Orodan Wainwright, you came… as expected. When you challenged everybody in sight and fought like a madman upon the moon of your backwater pnet, I thought you the pinnacle of warlike beings, someone fit to eventually become a prime evil. For it to be a human was a surprise, but not an impediment. Yet to then bear witness to that sickening Celestial skill of yours? And to now hear you work alongside the Concve? Sickening… you must be permanently dealt with at all costs.”

  “The Concve and I have a mutual enemy, that’s the extent of it. I have no interest in purifying any devils, and if you’ve heard otherwise, that’s a lie,” Orodan said. “When we fought upon the moon of Astaia, I was far weaker then. You’ll find that I’ve grown since then, Devil King Gutriyaz. Fight me and let us settle the score here and now.”

  Standing before him, at the top of the stairs was the very familiar Devil King that had come to recruit him upon the moon of Astaia a while ago. Back then, he’d gone through death after death until finally growing strong enough to survive the devil’s full power. In hindsight, Orodan had partly brought it upon himself by purifying the True Vampire in front of the devil so btantly. Still, he was eager for a rematch.

  “You did not lie, Gutriyaz… he is as headstrong and thirsty for battle as you said. Human. You cim to be neutral and not on the Concve’s side, yet your actions upon entering Druhmiyan leave no doubts as to your hostility,” a nearby Arch-Devil said. Not as sturdy-looking as Garvoroz who he’d beaten, and not possessed of as much power as Devil King Gutriyaz either. “You disrespected one of my script-bearers, and then defeated one of my loyal devils. Every step you take within this city is an insult to me. Death will be the only payment I accept.”

  “Then draw your weapon and fight me, why waste time with this talk?” Orodan asked.

  “You base cur! You ck all decorum and sense of tradition! The challenge to an honor duel is not something to be thrown about like alms for the beggars!” Devil King Egrimaaz angrily said. “We must prepare the audience, decre our grievances and keep ourselves in line that the spectators might be immersed in the very causes of our battle.”

  “Sounds like pointless pomp and ceremony to me,” Orodan said. “When two warriors fight, all that matters is violence and the straight path from life to death.”

  Devil King Egrimaaz was the one who’d initially ordered the scans upon Orodan and his party. Orodan had undoubtedly ruffled the Devil King’s feathers by walloping its loyal subordinates. Furthermore, the Devil King was in fact weaker than its strongest subordinate who Orodan had already bested. Still, given how angry it looked, there was a good chance the Devil King threw it all to the wind and fought Orodan here and now.

  W78’s comments didn’t help either.

  “Information: hostile element, power level - acceptable. Analysis: likelihood of positive combat outcome - certain.”

  “Damned machine, do not presume such th-

  “Hold, Egrimaaz. Or have you forgotten that he is the time looper whose actions have caused the Athranos Gaxy to stir restlessly with war?” Devil King Gutriyaz asked. “Orodan Wainwright. Back then, your time looper nature was not known to me, but it is now. How many times did you perish against me on that moon before you won? Every death in battle simply grants you more strength, does it not?”

  “You’re right. I come back each time I die, and I grow stronger for it,” Orodan admitted. “You killed me many times, but I learned. In a sense, you were a teacher of mine.”

  “Bitter irony then, that I partook in teaching a deadly foe so much. Your Fire Resistance must be quite high by now,” Devil King Gutriyaz said. “How many times did I destroy that barren moon in a bid to kill you without knowing that I was merely empowering an unkilble foe? Tch…”

  “That ‘barren moon’ used to be my home world,” Zaessythra said. “Even if restoring it was easy enough, I don’t appreciate the fact that you so wantonly obliterated it.”

  “And you have companions with you as well. A machine of the Unity, and a half-dragon. The numbers are a little lopsided in your favor, are they not?” Devil King Gutriyaz asked.

  “I’m happy to face you both by myself, my companions have little to do with it,” Orodan decred.

  “Perhaps. But I am not so short-sighted as to grant you a convenient path to strength, nor am I delusional in my own abilities retive to yours,” Devil King Gutriyaz said. “I have heard of you, time looper. Your victory over a peak-Transcendent True Vampire. Your feat of reversing time for an entire soul nexus and preventing the explosion of trillions of souls. Your strength has grown at an impossible rate since we st met, and I admit that you would be beyond me. However… my mentor is not.”

  The only warning he got was a faint sense from his near-Apprentice Dimensionalism skill. Someone was directly behind him.

  And they had a glowing pink shard in their hands.

  The beam was mid-flight when it diverted and rushed into the shard held in Zaessythra’s outstretched hand.

  That half-dragon… she hadn’t even told him that she was bringing that thing along!

  “Hmmph… of course they would field a shard of their own,” said the… moon elf? “Orodan Wainwright, was it? I hear you detest bandying words, good. Let’s duel.”

  The dimensional yer around him shifted, and while Orodan could have resisted, he chose not to as it was best to fight somepce else where he wouldn’t cause mass civilian casualties.

  The scenery shifted to the ruins of an abandoned city, and the moon elf before him began glowing with power as the sigils and runes on every inch of his skin lit up.

  “Nothing personal. Or rather, not with you… but that abominable power of yours,” the moon elf said.

  The first thing to hit him was a wave of maroon hellfire which annihited the entirety of the abandoned city and the gigantic pnet-sized ndmass it was upon.

  [Fire Resistance 51 → Fire Resistance 53]

  [Warrior’s Reciprocity 86 → Warrior’s Reciprocity 87]

  He faced a decent amount of damage, but it was only surface level and he healed quickly enough. Still, that it could harm him signified the power of the assault.

  In any case, his opponent looked to be worse-off, with most of his body utterly melted away.

  “Hmm… Fire Resistance at the Adept-level at least,” the moon elf said. “Forced me to utilize a sigil which took a milennia to craft too.”

  Certain sigils on the script-bearer moon elf’s hands lit up, and next came a combination of lightning and wind. At a far lower level of power. Perhaps the foe had learned not to attempt massive attacks against Orodan?

  “Those too? Troublesome… elements are out of the equation then…”

  “I’ll spare you the trouble. I’m resistant to curses and acid as well,” Orodan decred. “Fight me toe to toe, mages don’t fare well against me.”

  In response, a series of curses and acid nded upon him too. Not as powerful as the fmes, but still decent enough that Orodan gained five levels in Curse Resistance and three for Acid. His opponent once again looked very damaged, but quickly recovered thanks to some unknown power source.

  “A city’s energy reserves? A world core?” Orodan asked. “I sense something tethered to you, but I’m not sure what.”

  “The primary soul nexus of the hells. Every single deceased being in the afterlife of our dimension empowers me,” the moon elf said. “Are you a match, time looper?”

  “I overpowered the cores of three pgue worlds in a contest of energy generation,” Orodan said.

  That certainly got a reaction out of the script-bearer. His icy face dispyed a look of shock which was quickly schooled.

  “From all I’ve studied of you… you’re not the type to lie or bluff,” the moon elf said. “Attrition is meaningless against you then.”

  The moon-elf script-bearer empowered himself further, and dark chitinous material began forming over his skin. With a roar of hatred, his foe charged right into melee!

  Now this was a mage Orodan could respect!

  The moon-elf was a rather powerful unarmed fighter, to the point that Orodan was overwhelmed in a match of pure technique. Still, Orodan’s own physicality was superior, and something was off about the foe.

  “Your moves are choppy… you fight as though unfamiliar with your own body,” Orodan said.

  “Of course it is. You think I chose this pathetic form?” the moon elf asked as they engaged in an exchange of blows in which Orodan was outskilled but won through brute force. “An abominable power like the one you bear did this to me!”

  “Then you’re…”

  “An Arch-Devil. By all rights, that is who I am, who I was… until something abominable cleansed me a long time ago,” the moon elf said. “I used to be a Devil King, but now they call me the Script-King as I’m forced to resort to a fraction of what power I had. A mockery, a most horrific defiling which must never be allowed to occur again. No devil must ever go through the grievous torture of being stripped of their essence… you must be put down permanently.”

  Orodan didn’t recognize this Arch-Devil at all, nor had he ever cleansed a devil in all his loops. Just who had done this?

  “Even your soul is just…”

  “Fractured? Disharmonious? What else do you have to say?”

  Dirty.

  It was incredibly rare to see a soul which was so contaminated. The outer yer of the soul could be impure, but not the soul core itself. Unless some manner of insidious control was present, souls were typically pure at the core, even if they had their contradictions, darknesses and burdensome thoughts these would only affect the outer yer.

  Hells, it wasn’t even that it was dirty… rather that something had irrevocably changed what it should be. Some manner of strange force.

  “Who did this to you?” Orodan asked, feeling a bit of pity.

  Was this what his own cleaning skill could do to someone? A part of Orodan resolved then and there that the act of irrevocably changing someone in such a way, stripping them of their very being, was a horrid act. Devil, vampire or no… better to die a thousand times in order to seek victory than resort to the sickening act of ‘purifying’ someone of vampirism or being a devil.

  “I do not know, though I am ever in pursuit of that truth,” the Script King answered. “Enough talk.”

  They fought for a few more exchanges. The Script King fought well in melee combat, with his punches and kicks often connecting and winding around Orodan’s own. He had no doubt that the former Arch-Devil was a deadly unarmed combatant in his prime. If anything, fighting a peak-Transcendent in such a manner wouldn’t normally have been so easy and Orodan had less confidence in cleanly beating a fully powered Arch-Devil Script King in his prime.

  But… the battle was a losing one for the now moon elf. Orodan’s brute force and raw physicality simply battered past defenses or outright powered through attacks. The runes and sigils dotting his opponent’s skin glowed, and mental assaults, chronomancy and the like surged forth. Yet it was all ineffective.

  And as Orodan fought, he began to look closer at the former Arch-Devil. He began looking deeply, and learning, and seeing what he was up against.

  Suddenly, the Script King stopped.

  “Hold.”

  “Surrendering?” Orodan asked.

  “Never. I hate the ability you possess. Our enmity is irreconcible. But it appears we are at an impasse. Your resilience is far too high, your resistances, varied and plentiful. I do not wish to test the bottom of your reserves either, as that would take too long.”

  “You’ve come to realize that a battle of attrition would lead to your loss?” Orodan asked.

  “Unfortunately, the rumors of your freakish and impossible power were no lie,” the Script King said. “If I draw this out, it will only be to my detriment. And while you’re free to refuse… what I’ve heard of your obstinate nature leads me to think you’ll accept a decisive csh of blows.”

  “Then, how about we both commit to our final cards. Lay it all on the line, our mightiest attacks, each of us,” Orodan proposed.

  “My thoughts exactly. I’d hoped to best you in an honest duel, yet reality is a harsh mistress. And with that meddling half-dragon not present in this dimension… these can be more freely used,” the Script King said as he drew out multiple items. Shards. And these then began to knit together in an eerie dispy, forming a slightly rger crystal. “Did you know that these can be combined together? None within the hells know of where they come from, but the smallest of them can be combined together… their power magnified.”

  “Good. Let me have it then,” Orodan said. “I believe we’ve fought long enough that I’m getting a deeper understanding of just what happened to you. Let’s end this.”

  The very dimension they were in shook, the moon elf’s body was wracked with convulsions and he suffered grievous damage by channelling as much of his own soul energy into the newly formed crystal as he could.

  This was fine. In fact, this was what Orodan was hoping for.

  Channeling the power of the soul nexus into the crystal could’ve lead to backsh, and from what he’d seen, the shards didn’t like receiving multiple energy sources, only a singur one. In this case, it was the Script King’s soul energy.

  The crystal glowed with a deeper shade of pink, and within the blink of an eye, fired.

  It was far stronger than the beam the Hegemony had tried hitting him with. It seemed that the crystal formed from the joining of multiple shards led to a deadlier beam.

  Yet, Orodan held faith.

  His shield was slung behind his back. His sword sheathed. He wouldn’t need them for this.

  All he needed…

  …was the broom he drew forth.

  The Script King’s mangled and irrevocably changed soul wasn’t just damaged… it was filthy. And consequently, this meant that the soul energy which had empowered the crystal and comprised the beam, was also dirty.

  And for a soul that had been cleansed, purified even… just what sort of filth was this?

  It was a filth of purity.

  The very fact that the Script King’s soul was naturally demonic and was now instead pure, was an abomination. An affront to nature. It was dirty.

  He recalled a conversation he’d had with W78 once, discussing the meaning of cleaning.

  “…what one sees as clean can be altered.”

  And how cleanliness was defined by the wielder.

  And with that in mind, Orodan’s broom swept forward, targeting the very dirty soul energy that composed the beam. It might not work on anyone else, but on this poor being who had been changed from an Arch-Devil and into a moon elf… it would suffice.

  The Script King’s soul was dirty, not because it had conventional impurities within… but because the very natural order was skewed. It had been cleansed of the natural devil essence that it should have. The purity that it now held was unclean, conceptually.

  And Orodan didn’t like it one bit. Not when he’d recently begun to see the wrong in doing such things.

  His broom connected, and the beam went out of control as the normally pure soul energy with the signature of a moon elf… now became one with the soul energy of an Arch-Devil.

  [Reality Alteration 5 → Reality Alteration 8]

  The Script King looked utterly fbbergasted.

  “H-how… you… changed my soul energy…”

  “Correct. I believe a grave injustice was done to you,” Orodan said. “Stripping away who someone is through the tyrannical application of cleaning, is an affront to nature. Sometimes, cleanliness is about the natural order of things. And in this case… I intend on rectifying the unnatural purity that your soul has been infected with.”

  His broom shed out once more, and the moon elf before him didn’t even resist.

  Immediately, Orodan encountered some absolutely unbelievable resistance.

  Fshes of unknown cleaning techniques entered his mind. They opposed him. The purity that had locked down the soul of the Script King fought back with a ferocious ardor. Orodan wasn’t just dealing with a purity that opposed him, but the will of the very being that had originally purified the soul of this former Arch-Devil.

  And it was a wealth of skill, a cosmos of experience that seemed utterly impossible to surmount. Transcendent? Embodier? One could train for a billion years and still not be enough to reach the level this being was at. Frankly, he got a strange feeling from the leftover will of this being, eerily simir to what he felt in the presence of an Administrator.

  Orodan was but level 98 with his Celestial skill. How could he compare?

  Techniques of ages past, visions and glimpses from the very birth of something incredible… of a time before numbers, skills and levels… it all fshed through his mind, to oppose him. It was insane, impossible. No Transcendent or God could overcome this.

  And yet…

  …Orodan refused to buckle.

  The broom in his hand creaked dangerously as he threw every iota of power he had into the sweep pointed at the Script King’s soul. And he recalled his own techniques.

  Picking up the dirty rag and cleaning the bedside table. Beating the rugs to rid them of dust and debris, cleaning and polishing the very footpath leading to his dipidated hovel.

  So what if this being’s experience with Cleaning was dramatically higher?

  What Orodan cked in time and quantity, he would make up with quality.

  A million? A billion? Who cared how long this unseen foe had cleansed for? Orodan’s talent in Cleaning was beyond compare.

  Many people spoke better than he. There were quite a few better mages than him. Hells, there might even be a few warriors who were more talented in their skills and understanding.

  But, he held utmost faith in one dogmatic fact…

  …nobody in the universe, System or otherwise, was better than Orodan Wainwright in Cleaning.

  A roar of pure rage left his lips, and the unstoppable determination of Orodan fueled his raw belief in his own Cleaning. Each and every basic technique he’d picked up from the very start of his journey was recalled in perfect detail, and improved upon multiple times over in the span of an instant.

  Under this insane pressure, pitted against a cosmic existence that had a monstrous level of talent in Cleaning… Orodan’s own talent grew.

  The deepest parts of his soul resonated.

  [Domain Of Perfect Cleaning 98 → Domain Of Perfect Cleaning 99]

  And then he immediately locked his insights away, inward, refusing to allow the touch of the System upon them.

  It was a strange feeling, to be so profound in a skill where the System’s connection and the knowledge and experience he could connect to as per his skill level, was no longer needed.

  He had long suspected that the System didn’t accurately reflect his insights into Cleaning, and here it was proven once more.

  He had pns for the final level, and it wouldn’t do to let the System update it too early.

  With understanding in his eyes, the broom went forth and simply touched the soul of the Script King…

  …and the remnant will of a mighty being was vanquished, and for the briefest of instants, he saw the glimpse of a hooded being back turned towards him, hammer in the left hand, an orb of purity in the right, System glyphs flitting about them as they faced down an endless wall of Eldritch.

  [Reality Alteration 8 → Reality Alteration 20]

  And at the end of his broom, the returned Arch-Devil before him trembled in awe.

  The dimensional boundaries cracked and shattered, bringing Orodan back into the real world, into the city of Druhmiyan.

  Zaessythra looked to be fighting evenly against Devil King Gutriyaz, while W78 had already bested Devil King Egrimaaz. Upon the arrival of him and this new Arch-Devil though, all went silent.

  “Who… who are you?” Devil King Gutriyaz asked, staring at the newly returned Arch-Devil. “Your skin… it is pitch bck as the Arch-Devil’s should be. You look so familiar, yet I do not recall you…”

  “Gutriyaz… it is I…”

  “No… it cannot be! The curse id by that fell purity could not be broken by our greatest script-bearers! Who are you really?!” Devil King Gutriyaz angrily roared.

  “Old friend… can you not recognize me after so long? All these millennia you have known me by a moniker I did not ask for. Script King… they said,” the Arch-Devil spoke. “And yet now… I am in a form I’d thought lost forever. Devil King Azgaraaz, the old Overking… has returned.”

  “Damn it Orodan… did you just empower an enemy so you could have a good fight with him?!” Zaessythra angrily asked.

  Well, he actually hadn’t done it for that purpose…

  …although now that she mentioned it.

  #

  The Council-Fortress of Druhmiyan was located at the peak of the floating city. Guards riding upon flying demonic beasts would patrol the skies above the city and yet would never venture too close to the Council-Fortress. It was an imposing fort; the walls lined with a heavy number of defenders and hellish war machines.

  And as Orodan and his companions made their way through the halls and towards the Court of the Council, he had to admit that the decor was far less fshy than he would’ve thought. Most other paces he’d been in, from the Imperial Citadel in Novar’s Peak to the Celestial Pace in Swordmist City upon Xian, were rather gaudy.

  The Council-Fortress was anything but. And the guards were frequent, even if they refused to look him in the eye. Especially after what he’d done.

  After the restoration of the Script King, or rather, Devil King Azgaraaz, the fighting had quickly died down. Devil King Gutriyaz, Devil King Egrimaaz and the restored former Overking had all left. Although the old Overking had simply made one procmation.

  That he owed Orodan a favor.

  Furthermore, many Devil Kings who were in line with the Script King and chomping at the bit to challenge Orodan to an honor duel immediately backed down, and Druhmiyan became a rather empty city as many people suddenly left to take stock of the situation. After all, one of the biggest power pyers of the hells had returned.

  Not that Devil King Saathmaraz or the Overking of the hells would be very happy.

  Well, that was one way to achieve neutrality.

  The guide alongside him was weirdly silent, and more than a bit apprehensive.

  “Our entire gaxy was destroyed, and that man was one of the st people seen fleeing through the grand array leading to the Athranos Gaxy,” Orodan heard a man petition. “And now people are saying he’s been spotted within Druhmiyan? I demand he answer for his crimes.”

  The footsteps were somewhat audible, so the man turned to see who entered the Court of the Council, and his eyes immediately went wide in rage and shock.

  “It’s not like I destroyed your gaxy,” Orodan said.

  “Time looper! You dare show your face?! The Bckworth Collective weren’t the only folks living within the Vystaxium Gaxy,” the man said. Dressed in an elegant bck raiment with a firearm at his hip which was promptly drawn. “Our homes and families are gone and someone must answer for it! You and that foolish boy-King can burn in-”

  Orodan didn’t see it. Not without Time Compression.

  One moment the man was speaking. The next, he was falling apart on each side, carved in half from top to bottom.

  “Overking… you cannot simply execute petitioners in this court…” one of the Devil Kings said.

  “Resurrect and provide the man generous compensation. All petitions for the day are closed, we shall hear him tomorrow,” the hulking giant on the throne said. “Clear the Court of everyone save Devil King Saathmaraz.”

  The Arch-Devil was rge. Far bigger than any other he’d seen, and definitely more physically imposing than the restored Devil King Agmaraaz, who formerly held the position of Overking. Orodan felt that this too, was a peak-Transcendent. And not a foe he could win in a fair toe to toe fight against. He’d have to pull out all the stops, use Time Compression and then perhaps use his Celestial skill in a most distasteful manner.

  The other Devil Kings looked more than a little unhappy at being commanded to leave while Saathmaraz remained, yet they complied all the same.

  “Orodan Wainwright. We meet once more,” Devil King Saathmaraz called out. “Here I was, prepared to engage in politics and schemes all for the sake of keeping the hells out of the war between you and the Hegemony and Celestial Emperor. Yet somehow, you act in a way which solves the problem while creating many more. I should not be surprised… since our first meeting you have had an inclination towards a most… reckless personality.”

  “I hardly did anything. Fought a few people, did a bit of cleaning,” Orodan answered.

  “You and your cleaning… truly a double-edged sword you wield. On one hand, it can purify vampires and devils. On the other, it can restore to full power a Devil King long thought lost,” Devil King Saathmaraz said. “You have caused a problem for us. Here is his Mightiness, Overking Yulvaraaz Ur-Kralkar, third of his line.”

  “Time looper… you have caused much stir within Druhmiyan today,” the Overking said. “If you came here wishing to ensure the neutrality of us in your petty little war, you’ve succeeded.”

  “I came here to meet with Devil King Saathmaraz and see if neutrality was a possibility,” Orodan said. “Whether it succeeded or failed didn’t matter to me.”

  “Yes. They speak of your boldness and ck of hesitation. I have no doubt you would make foes of everyone within the universe if needed,” the Overking said. “Your actions today have proved that much.”

  “You disapprove?” Orodan asked.

  “My disapproval matters little now that the political situation of the hells is soon to spiral out of control,” the Overking said. “Notice how the city has emptied out noticeably in the past hour? The Devil Kings have left to their individual domains, to either pledge loyalty to myself, Azgaraaz or ride out the coming storm of internal war.”

  “It will be a bad time for the hells then? I wasn’t aware one Devil King’s return to full power could have such consequences,” Orodan said.

  “A bad time? Perhaps for the war front in the sixth yer where the disunity here will naturally lower the amount of support provided,” the Overking expined. “For a time, the Concve and some of the other predatory carrion-eaters in other gaxies may make great inroads. Whenever a legitimate challenge to an Overking presents itself, this has always been the case.”

  “Other gaxies? I knew the hells reached rather far… perhaps to the neighboring gaxies, but to others as well?”

  “Your own gaxy is but one of many that we have access to,” the Overking said. “Of course, our fated foes, the Concve, also have their influence spread throughout many gaxies.”

  “Yet, you don’t seem overly concerned,” Orodan remarked.

  “An accurate observation. While the coming storm will be a turbulent one, with a likely chance of my deposition. The hells will be stronger as a result with the return of a former Overking. A great offensive against the Concve will occur, and we shall cim many worlds.”

  “And you won’t be killed?”

  “We are not as uncivilized as the Concve and its lies attempt to portray us as,” the Overking said. “I spared Devil King Azgaraaz during my ascension a million years ago and he fell in line under my reign. Simirly, if I lose, I shall dutifully fall in line and obey any current Overking as is custom.”

  “You fought the Script King when he was an Arch-Devil, or in his current form?” Orodan asked.

  “It was only after his ill-fated trip to a bck hole that he returned in such a state. Truthfully, I had no designs on the throne of the hells, and he requested I duel him for it and take rulership,” the Overking said. “In his prime… he was fearsome indeed.”

  A trip to a bck hole? Why did this sound so familiar? It seemed that nobody who made a journey to a bck hole had a happy ending. And given who Jian Huangdi potentially met during his journey into one… Orodan was beginning to have an inkling as to just what kind of being cleansed the former Script King.

  Still, the current Overking had his hands full.

  “Which means you’ll remain neutral until then,” Orodan said.

  “Towards you, we shall remain neutral for the foreseeable future. With the restoration of Devil King Azgaraaz, you’ve proven that you’re not the existential threat that many thought you to be,” the Overking said. “The Concve shall bear our wrath, but I sense you’re no pdog of theirs.”

  “I owe them no particur loyalty besides the sharing of mutual enemies. I suppose the purpose of my visit here has been fulfilled then,” Orodan said. And to think Zhou Shan wanted him to py it diplomatically. Turns out acting the reckless fool had its advantages sometimes. “Say, that carving behind the throne, what’s that?”

  “This? It’s a depiction of the ancestor himself… some say it’s the oldest devil, others that it’s our progenitor,” the Overking said. In truth, we do not know. In any case, I am no historian and do not dwell on such matters.”

  What was the carving?

  A hooded figure, hammer in the left hand, orb of purity in the right, System symbols flitting above their head as they faced down a wall of purple and gray.

  #

  “Your departure from the hells went smoothly then?”

  “Of course, why would it not?” Orodan asked in return. “The Overking already said the hells would be remaining neutral during the war.”

  “It’s just that… you practically barged into Druhmiyan, conducted yourself most violently and they just let you walk out?” the High Sovereign asked. “No assassins waiting outside. No further tricks or schemes?”

  “Did you want there to be?” Orodan asked. “I admit I could’ve gone for a few more brawls myself. Shame I didn’t quite get to fight the restored Devil King Agmaraaz or the Overking. Well… one loop perhaps.”

  “If this all goes to pn, there should be no need for any further loops,” Zaessythra said.

  Or no need for further loops because he would be permanently dead. That was also a distinct possibility. He wasn’t the type to wallow in misery, but a certain level of realism and the acceptance that defeat was a real possibility lingered in his mind. He had died enough times, and he wasn’t delusional enough to believe he could beat absolutely everyone. Especially not the apocalyptic force coming for him.

  What he did believe though, was that his will and soul would never break. Victory or defeat, the spirit of Orodan Wainwright would never break.

  “Not that we are compining about the destruction you sowed… but our preliminary reports suggest the return of the former Overking Agmaraaz,” Captain-General Ryzn said. “And that his restoration is your doing.”

  “What’s the issue? The neutrality of the hells has been acquired, has it not?” Orodan asked. “The enmity between the Concve and the Hells isn’t my business.”

  “An answer we were content to receive. But empowering our enemies - something we shall have to bear the consequences of down the road - is veering into the domain of making it your business,” the Captain-General said. “You are far too friendly with the devils of the hells for my liking.”

  “I’ve been to the hells, they don’t seem all that bad. They don’t ensve anyone, the poputions on their worlds seem content from what I hear, and the people aren’t being mistreated,” Orodan said. If he saw something he disliked, he would revise his opinion accordingly. But for now, the devils of the hells seemed rather… normal? Like any other faction of power, they just wanted to expand, and they treated conquered poputions respectably. “If you’re just two rival factions competing over lucrative worlds to conquer, I don’t see how it’s any business of mine. If it makes you feel better I can resurrect some fallen hero of the Concve as well.”

  The Captain-General of the Concve looked as though he wanted to respond, but the God held his tongue.

  “Analysis: diverting from critical subject matter. Solution: divert focus towards hostile elements,” W78 said.

  “That I agree with,” Lady Sujana said. “We now know that the shards can be combined into a crystal. This is a process which greatly amplifies the power of any attack unched from them.”

  “Furthermore, as Orodan said, there’s no guarantee he can stop these crystals the same way as he did when facing Devil King Agmaraaz,” Zhou Shan said. “That was a unique method exploiting the fact that the Devil King’s soul was deeply broken and our time looper’s Celestial skill was able to affect it.”

  “Then the only reliable method of countering them is through the usage of our own shards,” Zaessythra said. “We have enough now that we could attempt to form our own crystal and keep it near Orodan during combat. If anyone’s going to be a prime target for shard-based attacks, it’ll be him.”

  “Even then. Shards aside, our enemy’s combat strength cannot be underestimated. My father is one of the most powerful peak-Transcendents in this gaxy. I’m still a good while away from being able to match him, and I doubt he’ll allow Orodan the opportunity to wage a battle of Celestial skills like the st confrontation we had,” Zhou Shan said. “The dwarves and their voidcraft are a threat too, even if we have our guns now thanks to the Bckworth Collective who’ve agreed to fight alongside us. The Hegemony though… Excromon, Astavar and their leader Agrimon are contested easily enough, but their Crusaders, that world-eating dragon Avraxas in particur, we need a method of countering it.”

  “Perhaps,” Zaessythra posed while looking directly at Orodan. “There might be a method of targeting the link between God and Transcendent. After all, these Crusaders are no more than a sickening soul meld, a forced combination of two beings.”

  Orodan saw where this was going.

  “No. These battles are beyond anyone on Astaia,” he immediately shut down. “Why should they have to fight on our behalf?”

  “You haven’t even asked her opinion on the matter,” Zaessythra replied.

  Orodan was adamantly against it. Not again.

  “The Hegemony, the dwarves and Jian Huangdi are dealt with easily enough,” Captain-General Ryzn chimed in. “But you forget the true horror which will appear to assist the enemy.”

  “The Reject,” Orodan said.

  The true threat.

  “I still cannot believe that this… Administrator… is the founding daoist we venerate upon Cultivator’s Peak,” Zhou Shan said. “Yet, the carving you saw in the hells was no coincidence either. These Administrators clearly have mortal origins. From a time well before any of us existed, but an origin all the same. Which means they are not insurmountable foes, but beings like you and I who can be defeated!”

  “At what cost? We have three Embodier’s Sacrifices which we’re willing to provide, but the cost is a steep one for someone who will not even commit to an alliance with us,” Captain-General Ryzn said. “And if what happened in the Vystaxium Gaxy is any indicator… these beings can destroy gaxies with their battles. How are we meant to stand against such a force? Do you expect us to fight for you?”

  “No. I do not,” Orodan said.

  “Then what will be our pn?” Zhou Shan asked.

  “The pn. Will involve everyone else retreating once the Reject arrives upon the battlefield,” Orodan said. “The Administrators seem at least somewhat restrained in what they can do and who they can sughter. If not by the System, then each other. In other words, his battle is with me, and I tire of having others die on my behalf.”

  “You speak madness my friend! This is a battle which could cost you the entire time loop and lead to your permanent end! Never have I heard of someone attempting a battle with such a wide power gulf,” Zhou Shan said. “I… I refuse to allow you to go into battle empty-handed. Or alone. I shall stand alongside you.”

  “Information: unit will not abandon friend.”

  “You lot are too much! My time loops were far simpler when it was just me,” Orodan said angrily. “I… I appreciate your support. I do. But let a warrior fight his own battles in peace.”

  “At the very least. If not for you, then for the High Sovereign and our alliance with the Celestial Court, we shall provide the three Embodier’s Sacrifices that we have in our inventory,” the Captain-General said. “Additionally, we’ll have a few more detatchments from nearby gaxies coming to help us before the date of the battle. In terms of manpower, we will not be cking.”

  “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I’m appreciative of the weapons. As for your concerns, I still intend on confronting the Reject primarily by myself. If anyone else comes along to support me…” Orodan trailed off and sighed. “…then they’re free to do as they wish. Who am I to stop someone rushing to their deaths? Just don’t let it be for me.”

  “At worst, we’ll simply be resurrected afterwards,” Zhou Shan said. “Assuming our side wins the battle.”

  “Which, given the odds in our favor, is a distinct possibility,” Zaessythra said. “Reject aside, our odds are looking hopeful.”

  “We’re in agreement then. Fight against our foes, and when the Reject himself shows up… Orodan and I shall break away to handle it, and more can join in depending on how the battle goes,” Zaessythra said.

  “It’s time then,” Orodan said. “Two weeks remain, and we’ll have to fortify our battleground. After all, the Reject is heading for one particur pce.”

  Astaia.

  It was time to return home.

  #

  “This pce… it brings back memories. The air still has that cold bite to it, the rocky spires are just as I remember them, and it has that familiar lifeless aura about it.”

  Out of sentimentality, Orodan hadn’t bothered to clean the ground of Eldritch here.

  The Valley of Spires, upon the northern continent of Guzuhar.

  This was the location where he’d had his very first battle and encounter against the Eldritch Avatar. Where he’d been exposed to the Eldritch for the very first time. He’d then actually managed to kill it here during his second attempt, albeit at the cost of his own life. Nobody came here, this pce was considered cursed ground among Guzuharans, particurly among cn Iron-Bear who’d sent a priestess of Ozgaric to guide him along.

  He didn’t really need a guide, but the nostalgia of returning here and the opportunity to ask her how Guzuhar was doing under the new joint council of dragons, Gods and nation leaders was appreciated.

  “The scars of many battles still remain,” the woman next to him said. “Was this all you wished of me, my lord? I would… prefer not to step any further…”

  “Indeed, I shall continue alone from here. Your company and the news on how Guzuhar has been doing was more than welcome,” Orodan said. “Esbetta Ingamiris was it? Thank you, I’ll put in a good word for you to Ozgaric.”

  “T-thank you my lord,” the woman replied.

  Orodan looked at her, but in truth felt no real emotions. He’d in with this woman once upon a time, long ago during his very first loop to the northern continent, but it was far removed. And nowadays such things didn’t interest him any longer.

  Zaessythra had gone to the restored moon for some meditations, and W78 had gone ahead to Novar’s Peak where the defense command was set up. As for Orodan himself, he was visiting old haunts, starting with this one where he had a meeting pnned.

  He walked onwards, stepping past the hints of foul purple energy emanating from the ground. The nd was suffused with a minor bit of Eldritch energy, mainly due to the Eldritch Gods choosing the Valley of Spires as their preferred spot of nding when sending a champion to assault Astaia. Supposedly, the Eldritch divinities had the most influence here, while the Gods of Astaia weren’t as powerful.

  Frankly, the difference was incredibly minor. Orodan had grown. The Eldritch Avatar? He could sughter entire armies of it. The Eldritch Gods? He might be able to tear through a dimensional boundary to reach them directly to sy or cleanse of taint. In the past he always pondered where the Eldritch Gods came from; his conversation with the world core of Astaia and what he’d seen in the Vystaxium Gaxy confirmed it. Pgue worlds.

  There was undoubtedly a pgue world out there somewhere, and it was attempting to unch limited attacks on Astaia. Nowhere near the horrifying coordination and pnetary sized swarms of infected that he’d seen while battling upon Lonvoron alongside the Bckworth Collective, but it was still there.

  A part of Orodan wondered if it was the presence of the Prophet, that infectious Administrator, that allowed for the pgue worlds there to be so coordinated. If anything, mayhap the Prophet’s arrival here might herald an Eldritch invasion the likes of which Lonvoron had experienced. Still, it wasn’t the Prophet that was his main concern, it was the Reject.

  And right now, before him was an assortment of various people of importance. All of them, integral parts of the joint-council which looked after Astaia.

  “Orodan Wainwright,” an Avatar walked up, eyes glowing subtly, and extended a hand. “Your battles have taken you far from Astaia, yet you return home at st. What does the World Ruler of this world wish of us?”

  Orodan took the Avatar’s proffered hand. It was the descent of a God unto someone who had their Blessing. Hells… when was the st time he’d seen an actual Avatar? It was a firm reminder that these people simply weren’t ready for the sort of battle and combat that was coming.

  In the wider gaxy, Gods of sufficient power could simply breach the dimensional boundaries between the divine realm and the material pne to physically enter. The first one he’d seen doing this was Astavar, but afterwards he’d seen it semi-commonly enough and even slew a few such descending Gods.

  “Ozgaric, it is good to see you. I assume the word has been passed to all of you?”

  Ozgaric, the Guzuharan God of Trickery and Illusions. This God had helped Orodan at a critical time when he needed a Blessing to remain under the radar from the Prime Five of Inuan. Orodan had not forgotten the favor, and he always honored his debts and those who’d done him a good turn. As a result, Guzuhar was now a flourishing continent, and out of all the Gods of Guzuhar, Orodan ensured that Ozgaric had the widest worship. The Guzuharan God even had adherents on Inuan now.

  “It has. You bring… ill-tidings. Is our world truly under such threat?”

  “A foe which can destroy entire gaxies comes for us,” Orodan said, choosing not to lie. “I do not expect any of you to fight, but I only feel it fair that you be told.”

  Another Avatar walked up and Orodan immediately took this one’s hand as well.

  “Orodan Wainwright. It is good to see you,” Malzim said. “Do we know what this being seeks? Perhaps we might give it to them?”

  Malzim, Inuanan God of Death and one of the Prime Five. This God had bailed Orodan out in the very early days when Ilyatana attempted to control Orodan’s mind and soul. Knowing what he did now, perhaps it hadn’t been necessary and his inexplicable will would’ve simply caused the Goddess of Fate’s attempts at control to fail. Yet, he was grateful for the aid in a desperate situation all the same.

  “I will not lie. They come for me,” Orodan said. “My… tendency to be honest and procim my status as a time looper has caused them to descend. Yet, they also come for the Divine Tower which goes all the way down to the world core.”

  A growl and a hiss erupted from the nearby dragon who had been listening in.

  “Your hubris has doomed us all then? Why take up the mantle of World Ruler if you invite such disaster onto us?” said Cyvrosdyr the Eternal Winter, World Guardian of Astaia.

  Orodan liked the wintry dragon. It was this dragon that had given him the second Quest to sy the Eldritch Avatar.

  “It’s not my nature to make excuses. I accept responsibility for what I’ve caused,” Orodan replied. To reply with anger, to deflect it, would be cowardly and dishonest. “No matter what happens, none of you gathered here today will be expected to face the foe. I fight my own battles, I always have and forever will.”

  “I… certainly hope so, Orodan,” Malzim said. “I am not one who enjoys battle. Least of all against a foe so grossly superior. Do you have confidence in your ability to deal with it? We’ve spoken at length a few times about the time loops and how you’ve grown, but… a gaxy destroyer?”

  “Coward,” Cyvrosdyr spat. “What good is a God that won’t fight for their faithful in defense of their world?”

  Orodan shook his head and gestured for the wintry dragon to ease up.

  “Not everyone aspires to become a legendary warrior,” Orodan said, recalling the conversation he’d had with Mahari a long time ago. “Everyone has their pce in this world. Some take peaceful paths, others take roads fraught with slightly more conflict. It does not make him lesser for it. And if those who walk the peaceful road are unwilling to fight, that’s fine, I’ll simply do battle in their stead.”

  “I respect your mettle and sense of responsibility, World Ruler… but I must disagree,” Cyvrosdyr said. “The pacifism of Malzim can rest only in the shade of your strength. To encourage such a thing…”

  “Then I shall grow strong enough to shade all who wish it,” Orodan said, his fist clenched. “I agree that one’s haughty ideals are useless without the strength to live by them, but we’re going off-course. This meeting is to inform you all that a grand array leading to a safe part of a neighboring gaxy is being offered by the Concve. If we fall, you shall be sheltered. If we prevail, you will simply return.”

  “A fair compromise,” said Kultuanir, the patriarch of the Time Wind dragon flight who’d been silent thus far.

  Eldramir, patriarch of the Novarrian Soaring Fme dragon flight was also present, as was the patriarch of the Sapphire Gale. Eldramir and Kultuanir butted heads when the joint-council of Astaia was initially formed, but had grown to be capable of working together.

  “And before I forget… have you heard anything of Eximus?” Orodan asked, looking at Malzim.

  “Nothing… no word from Ilyatana or Agathor either,” the God of Death said. “We’ve found no faithful of Ilyatana or Agathor… but Eximus, we have been rooting out his followers regurly. Just st week we found a cult and had their souls cleansed by the cultivators from that other world you have ventured to.”

  It would have been concerning if Orodan cared to keep Astaia’s location secret indefinitely. But from the get-go he knew that wouldn’t have been feasible. The Reject had some manner of locking onto the pnet and was coming for it. Eximus having followers upon Astaia was unfortunate, but acceptable for now.

  “And what of Agorhiku?” Orodan asked looking at Ozgaric.

  The Guzuharan God of War counted the raider tribes of the northern continent among his faithful. Orodan hated raiders, they were responsible for the attack on the caravan where Orodan had lost both his parents when a babe and the course of his life was changed. Consequently, he hated Agorhiku as well. And the day he found a way into the divine realm on his own power, he vowed to execute the Guzuharan War God with his own hands.

  “Most of the raider tribes have been wiped out. Guzuhar is safer than ever before, and finding any followers of Agorhiku is an incredibly rare occurrence,” Ozgaric said. “Incredibly rare, yet a few still remaining in hiding somewhere.”

  Orodan hummed and then looked to the back where the st group was present. Three Avatars who were familiar.

  “And how’ve you lot been?” Orodan asked. “Not very talkative are you?”

  “We are doing well, time looper,” Cithrel, God-Queen of the elves of Eldiron spoke from her Avatar’s mouth. “Ever since you made my dearest Eldarion here take his trial early and consequently ascend to Godhood instead of Transcendence, I’m the happiest I have ever been.”

  “I see… and what of you, Eldarion? Have you been doing well?”

  “My daily life is filled with physical exertions of a most gruelling nature,” the Avatar of the elven God of Friendship replied. “Orodan Wainwright, I should have never advanced beyond level 100. Remaining there was a simpler time…”

  “Hush now dearest… is that how you refer to our most beautiful union of love?”

  Ah. That.

  Now Orodan felt at least partly bad for the poor elf who’d failed the ascendancy trial and instead become a God. A God of Friendship being forced to engage in such rigorous exertions couldn’t have been pleasant. Although… perhaps it was a good form of training?

  Well, at least Eldarion didn’t actually sound unhappy and it seemed more of a jest than anything.

  “Your marital happiness and activities aside, I’m gd to hear you’re doing well,” Orodan said. “Has Faraine made any moves against you? I strictly told her to avoid you and go about her own business.”

  “No interaction between us, time looper,” Cithrel said. “She has kept her word at least.”

  “And I get a strange feeling from you, Orodan Wainwright,” Eldarion said. “It’s a feeling most familiar to myself as well. The sensation of holding back insights from the System for fear of not wanting to advance until the right moment.”

  “Do you now?” Orodan asked. “Perhaps… I took inspiration from what you were doing.”

  After all. When it came to certain skills…

  …the System simply couldn’t accurately quantify their power.

  #

  While a casual stroll through Novar’s Peak sounded entertaining, it would’ve simply caused an excessive disturbance and led to the incapacitation of multiple members of the Intelligence Service. Yes, Orodan was the World Ruler of Astaia, but the average member of the public still thought that Elites were the highest level someone could reach.

  The matter of who’d gone into the abyss and brought the world core to heel wasn’t something they knew about. Only members of the joint-council and a select few people did.

  Unlike Spatial Fold which was more than a little destructive along the path of its usage, Teleportation was far more convenient and allowed for the quick and instantaneous travel between points Orodan had already been to. And he’d definitely been to the deep basement of Novar’s Peak beneath the Memorial of the First Emperor.

  “Who goes there?!”

  A hand whipped out, although for a brief instant nothing came. Only the next moment did a gout of shredding wind emanate. Orodan’s clothes were shredded, but he was entirely unharmed.

  “Retraining the muscle memory is hard,” Orodan said. “While that crown was useful, the risk of corruption from the Eldritch is simply too high.”

  “Wait… you’re…”

  “Good to see you again, Bastion,” Orodan said. “Novarria and the world have been running smoothly since my departure I hope?”

  Bastion Novar. First Emperor of the Empire of Novarria and likely the strongest human upon the continent of Inuan, Orodan aside. Orodan cleansed the man’s Eldritch crown, at the request of Bastion himself from the long loop in Novarria where he’d fallen to the Eldritch.

  “Orodan Wainwright. It has been a while indeed,” Bastion Novar replied. “You left for other worlds, and now the only thing the occasional traveler coming from the wider gaxy can speak of is the time looper. You haven’t remained idle at all.”

  “Far from it. I’ve also made some new enemies, and I’m sure you’ve heard of all that,” Orodan said.

  “Indeed. I suspected your straightforward nature and that habit of perpetual honesty might cause trouble,” Bastion replied.

  “No scathing remark?”

  “I have had time to think, to reflect and piece together what they say about you with what I saw and the tales you told me of the time loops,” Bastion spoke. “I think, Orodan… that one way or another, you always prevail. I see no reason to lose faith in you now. In any case, myself and the people of Novarria will be evacuating through this Concve’s grand array, so I shall not worry overmuch.”

  Orodan hummed in acknowledgement. Did he always prevail? He had gotten this far, but that was through the usage of the time loops. Who knew how this battle would py out? No enemy of his had ever threatened the time loops and a permanent death before.

  “Anyhow, how’s Novarria been doing? Have your people prospered? Do the elves bother you any longer?” Orodan asked.

  The conflict between Novarria and Eldiron had been rather central in his st long loop after all.

  “Novarria has been well my friend, and the elves have not overstepped their bounds. The looming threat of yourself has made everyone fall in line, and the ck of the Eldritch crown means Eldiron has little reason to try and make any aggressive movements. Of course, despite the joint-council we still occasionally bicker and argue, with the rare spy or two sending reports. But compared to the old days, now is a peaceful time,” Bastion expined. “Our people prosper, travelers from other worlds often come by and trade us the most wondrous of things, and they all oft speak of you and your exploits. I profess… this experience of feeling small within my own citadel is a novel one.”

  “The Imperial Citadel of Novarria is still your home and domain,” Orodan said. “Has anyone been giving you trouble? Say the word and I shall straighten them out.”

  Bastion shook his head and ughed.

  “Far from it. If anything, these Transcendents who I hadn’t known to exist until now are most respectful towards me. The cultivators in particur seem to hold you in high regard, something to do with you liberating their world and being good friends with their High Sovereign,” Bastion said. “No. The smallness I feel comes from within. It is… interesting to see that my dream for a world of peace has, even if temporarily, been achieved. And in a way superior to what I would’ve pnned.”

  Orodan wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He wasn’t good at comforting people, and wasn’t sure how to go about addressing Bastion’s feeling of inadequacy. On one hand, Orodan had achieved everything Bastion himself desired and provided it. A prosperous and secure Novarria; a world of peace. On the other, he’d taken the man’s Eldritch crown and practically destroyed it. As requested by the Bastion Novar of the st long loop of course.

  There was no quandary or moral guilt there, he’d acted as Bastion asked. But a part of Orodan wondered if it was better to allow people the freedom to make their own mistakes. In any case, he was better equipped now to aid Bastion in acquiring Eldritch Resistance. Something to think about for the next loop.

  Next loop? No. That was a defeatist attitude.

  Orodan shook his head to clear his thoughts. In his own way, he was subconsciously worried about the outcome of the coming battle it seemed.

  “I see… I shan’t intrude on the personal strife within. I have more than enough of it myself some days,” Orodan said. “I did come here to see one more person though. Is she around? Or rather… might she come out from the shadow of that pilr she’s attempting to hide behind?”

  A fizzle of magical energies popped, and a slender woman suddenly became visible. She’d arrived halfway through his and Bastion’s conversation, and Orodan sensed it immediately.

  “In any case, it was good to see you again, Orodan Wainwright,” Bastion said. “The defense command still has more administrative matters they wish to run by me, so I shall go for now.”

  The First Emperor of Novarria departed his own memorial chamber, leaving only Orodan and Vespidia within.

  This was the reincarnated elf who’d given her life for him once. In the st long loop he had in Novarria. She had been a friend, even if she didn’t remember those experiences in this loop.

  “Your ability to spot anything, no matter how well-hidden, is somewhat unsettling,” Vespidia said. “Can your enemies even flee?”

  “It works through spotting the impurities in someone’s soul or their energy pools. Newborn infants with pure souls or the soul energy from the average undamaged soul won’t register anything. It’s not an all-powerful skill,” Orodan expined. “And there was a time where my enemies couldn’t flee, but that was due to a Blessing. The God responsible for that Blessing is now dead.”

  “Well… you certainly don’t fail to keep busy. Is that what you’ve been doing since freeing Faraine?” Vespidia asked.

  “That, and making cosmic enemies who threaten devastation on a gactic scale,” Orodan added. “You’re up to speed then?”

  “Unfortunately. You’re pitting me against foes who are a bit above my weight css,” she said.

  “So Zaessythra approached you then? That damn half-dragon…” Orodan muttered. “I’m vehemently against this idea, and you don’t have to fight at all.”

  “But I want to.”

  “And what of your wife? What if you’re struck by some horrific attack which ravages your soul?” Orodan asked. “I still don’t know why you refuse to have her resurrected. It would take less than two seconds for me to do so.”

  “While your power is impressive, I think bringing her back to a world on the brink of invasion is a bit… unfair, is it not?” Vespidia asked, and Orodan had to grudgingly admit to that. “We’re in fact rather happy. Faraine and Malzim work together to arrange regur visits, and I intend to naturally pass in Faraine’s service before seeing her again.”

  She wanted to die.

  That was fine. Orodan also enjoyed the thought of an honest death in battle.

  But Orodan was also a hypocrite, and he knew that.

  “Damn it Vespidia,” he growled out. “Why do you insist on getting killed on my behalf?”

  “On Faraine’s behalf.”

  “Then if I tell Faraine to retreat and evacuate through the grand array?”

  “She’ll refuse. My Goddess won’t abandon her followers or the world they live upon,” Vespidia said.

  “You don’t even know if this stupid pn of yours will work,” Orodan argued.

  “Given what I’ve heard about these Crusaders, they’re the forced combination of a God and a Transcendent,” she said. “My divine severing dagger can cut the connection between God and Avatar… so it’s at least worth a shot. Particurly if that gigantic world-eating dragon will be arriving on the Hegemony’s side.”

  She wasn’t wrong. Avraxas, the Crusader dragon of the Hegemony who was both peak-God and peak-Transcendent fused into one, would be a problem. Orodan perhaps felt he could beat it given enough time and some checkpoint uses. The dragon was famed for its enormous energy capacity, but Orodan’s was on a level far beyond it. However, there was no way the enemy allowed him to leisurely spend weeks duelling Avraxas. The Reject was coming for Orodan, and his allies would need to find some way of dealing with the massive world eating dragon on their own.

  “…”

  “You might be a mighty time looper, but you don’t get to dictate how or when others choose to die,” Vespidia said. “I’ve heard of… my sacrifice in a past loop of yours. I don’t know what that Vespidia was thinking, but death has always been on my mind. My love and desire to see my fallen wife is matched only by my devotion to Faraine. In serving her and finding death, I’ll be happy. You have my gratitude for freeing my Goddess, but both her and I intend to make a stand upon Astaia.”

  “You fight at the level of a Grandmaster. Our enemies are Transcendents and Gods in their actual forms,” Orodan said. “How do you intend to make any contribution before being annihited as an afterthought?”

  “The defense command has assigned a squad to me. Their duty is to keep me safe so that I might strike blows against enemy Crusaders,” Vespidia expined.

  “Fair enough. You’re right. I shan’t try and dictate what you do, that would be tyranny,” Orodan said. “But… if you’re doing all this for Faraine, then do I not deserve to meet with your Goddess?”

  Upon the utterance of his words, the air became charged with divine power, and Vespidia’s eyes began glowing.

  “And here I am, Orodan Wainwright. My savior, and the protector of our world,” Faraine said, voice booming. “What may I do for one who has done so much for me?”

  “Evacuate yourself and all of Eldiron?” Orodan asked.

  “I cannot. The people will be evacuated, but us Gods will remain to support you, even if defensively,” Faraine said. “I have had my differences with my fellow elven deities, but in this we stand united.”

  “Fine. Do as you wish,” Orodan said. He wasn’t exactly happy about it, but he wouldn’t stand in their way if they wished to defend their home. “That was all I had to speak of.”

  “Wait. Before you go… the Eldritch,” Faraine said. “They tell me you’ve fought it upon other gaxies as well.”

  “What of it?” Orodan asked. “There’s two distinct kinds of it. The non-infectious sort that can be found in the depths of the abyss and in some people, and the infectious kind which I battled in a neighboring gaxy.”

  “And these Eldritch… were they spouting about… about the ‘truth’ as well?” Faraine asked.

  “Yes, they were,” Orodan said and then he understood. “Ah, that’s right. You too succumbed to the Eldritch infection long ago before your imprisonment, yes?”

  “Correct. And I just wanted to know how… how you resisted it so well.”

  “Keeping your willpower strong tends to help,” Orodan said. But that was stupid advice, like a strong warrior telling a skinny boy to just be strong. “As does remaining true to your sense of self. It tried whispering to me often, but I never really listened.”

  In that regard, his stubborn and bull-headed nature probably helped. Dense people had words go in one ear and out the other. Orodan Wainwright had words go in one ear and come right back out. A head of pure stone.

  “But the truth they speak of… how did you resist its sway? When I heard of it… my mind has had difficulty not constantly dwelling upon it. The urge to speak it, to spread it; it pgues me still and I fear the lightest touch of Eldritch will find me easier to corrupt than it would any other.”

  Now that was interesting.

  What she was suggesting, was that knowledge of the ‘truth’ that the Eldritch spread made one more vulnerable to it?

  Then… did one’s retion and their understanding of the Eldritch truth determine what sort of infected they were?

  Something to consider.

  #

  Karilsgard.

  Capital city of the Republic of Aden and where he’d dwelled during his time at the Bluefire Academy.

  It was a beautiful city, and it held many memories for him. However now that he’d ventured out into the gaxy and seen a few other worlds, Karilsgard seemed a bit… mundane. Hells, even Novar’s Peak was an older and more gmorous city. Still, he liked the pce, and it brought back memories of Bluefire Academy, House Firesword and the long loop in which three of the Prime Five had tried possessing him to use as a counterpart to the Eldritch Avatar.

  Unlike with Novar’s Peak, here he did decide to stroll down the streets. He was an Adenian, this was his territory. There was no Novarrian Intelligence Service around to harass him, and unless something had changed, he was still the county militia man from Ogdenborough. Although, there might be some questions of desertion if anyone recognized him.

  He walked past the Rockwood manor, past the commercial district and beyond the Cathedral of the Prime Five. Or rather, Prime Two. Three of the statues had been struck down, and there was a period of much upheaval on Inuan as the joint-council worked to stamp out any worship and Blessings of the vile three who Orodan considered his enemies.

  He was near the High Forges of Karilsgard and nearing the Pace of the Council when a guard stopped him.

  Perhaps someone finally recognized him and would try to arrest him for desertion? Admittedly, very few people were his size, so it wasn’t hard to spot Orodan.

  “You are… Lord Wainwright? Sir, we’ve been told to keep an eye out for you,” the guard, an Adept-level capital guardsman said.

  “Lord? I’m just Orodan Wainwright. Not a lord,” Orodan replied. The pomp and pretentiousness of such things didn’t suit him.

  “But… sir… we were instructed to bring you to the courts upon discovery. You’re the head of noble house Wainwright, are you not?”

  Noble house Wainright?!

  What in the seven hells?!

  “W-what?!” Orodan incredulously asked. “I’m not a noble! Is this some sort of practical joke?”

  “N-no sir! I’m just following orders, I apologize if I’ve inconvenienced you. We were just told to bring you to the courts so that they could formalize the affair,” the guardsman said.

  Orodan? A noble? Absolutely not! Never!

  He was no uppity ponce. He was no effete fool with a particur pate. To be called a noble was some sort of insult! Orodan came from humble stock damn it!

  He sighed and shook his head.

  “You’re just doing your job. Tell the courts I have no time for such things, and that I refuse the registration. I’m no noble,” Orodan said.

  “Er… I’ll rey the message my lord… but you also have a seat on the joint-council,” the guard said. “Your house banner flies from the top of the High Spire of Karilsgard.”

  The palm of Orodan’s hand met his own face. He’d been taught of all the noble houses during basic training in the militia. He looked up to get a good look at the additional banner which he didn’t otherwise recognize.

  It was simple. A white sword and shield diagonally crossed over one another, on a field of bck.

  Well…

  …the banner wasn’t half-bad at least.

  “Damn it all… who’s responsible for this? Who decred me a noble?” Orodan asked.

  “I believe it was a motion jointly proposed by Houses Rockwood and Firesword, with unanimous approval from all other houses,” the guard said. “The unanimous approval’s rather rare.”

  Damn Alcianne, and damn Arvayne. He would give them a piece of his mind. Good thing he was already on route to see them.

  “I’m headed for the Pace of the Council in any case, I shall… have words with them.”

  He left the guardsman behind and continued onwards. He practically threw the Pace doors off their hinges and no guardsman got in his way as he made a beeline for the Council Chambers.

  He threw the doors open.

  “My lords and dies, we’ve rooted out more faithful of Eximus today,” a military general said, giving report. “It’s the st raid we can do before the evacuation order.”

  “Good work. Continue making preparations for the mass evacuation general, we shall give you further ord-”

  “Where is Alcianne Rockwood!” Orodan loudly asked, interrupting council.

  “You are… Lord Wainwright!” said the High-Burgher Sarvaan Ilsuan Arsn. Nominal head of the Republic. “My lord, we have yet to formally decre you nobility with a ceremony, but now is as good a t-”

  “No! No noble titles! No noble houses!” Orodan said. “…good taste in the banner though. Simple but strong.”

  An old couple in the back, within the spectator seats stood up as he spoke. They looked the same at least.

  “Shall we take this somewhere quieter?” Alcianne Rockwood asked.

  #

  “It lightens my heart to see you happy and doing well, old man,” Orodan said.

  They were on a balcony near the very peak of the High Spire, overlooking the entire city of Karilsgard and much of the countryside.

  Arvayne Firesword. The oldest member and triple-Grandmaster of House Firesword. This man was the second strongest warrior of the Republic, and while Orodan had long since grown past such minuscule scales of power, what mattered to him… was that this graying old man, and the old woman holding Arvayne’s hand, were his mentors long ago.

  “I’m not even at three milennia yet…” Arvayne muttered.

  “Something you needn’t be concerned about now that Astaia has access to the wider gaxy for trade. The cultivators can concoct pills which make natural aging a concern of the past,” Orodan expined.

  “Indeed. I’ve been trying to get this old sack of bones to try one, but he’s holding off for now. Too set in his ways,” Alcianne said.

  “I regret not being able to come by as often, I apologize,” Orodan said.

  “Hardly your fault when I was an insensate mess who needed the assistance of numerous mind and soul cultivators to recover,” Arvayne said. Unlike everyone else, Orodan truly didn’t have much opportunity to speak with Arvayne Firesword. After getting rid of Agathor and the War God’s Blessings, Arvayne’s mind and soul were damaged. The man needed time and help to recover and return to his old self. “I don’t think I ever got the chance to say this… but I’m grateful for everything you did. For reuniting me with Alcianne under my own mind… for dealing with Agathor.”

  “Agathor will never bother you again,” Orodan said. Something in his voice must have given away the answer, for Arvayne nodded slowly, understanding what had occurred. His mentor seemed relieved.

  Good.

  This was part of what Orodan sought strength for. That those he cared for and owed could rest easy under the shade of his power.

  “I see… and it was you who dealt with him then, was it?” Arvayne asked, and Orodan nodded. “Heh… amazing to think that I actually trained you. Someone who can fight Gods and whose name is spoken of by travelers from other worlds. Let me look at you. Rough hands, strong arms, tall and doughty frame… a steely look in your eyes too. You’re a real warrior, aren’t you? I don’t know how much of your current self is due to my teachings… and I don’t know if my previous self in the loops ever told you, but let me say that I’m proud of the warrior I had a hand in teaching. Even if I do not remember it.”

  A warm feeling suffused Orodan. Pride and satisfaction.

  “Thank you old man… you taught me a lot, especially when I really needed it and was naught but a fish from a pond floundering about in the ocean,” Orodan said. “I still recall many of your lessons about developing a fighting style to this day.”

  “Heh… good, good,” Arvayne said. “I hope I was a good teacher. Can’t say the decisions I’ve made throughout my own life have been right…”

  Alcianne squeezed Arvayne’s hand a bit tighter as the old man said so.

  “I’ve erred plenty of times myself, old man,” Orodan said. “There’s plenty of blood on my hands. And I’ve done things I’m not proud of. In comparison, you’re a saint. And you were under control of Agathor for the longest time.”

  “You judge yourself too harshly Orodan,” Arvayne spoke. “You’ll find that you’re not so bad a man yourself.”

  Mayhap. He was a man who had plenty of blood and suffering on his hands though. Not that Orodan would self-fgelte over it like some guilt-stricken priest. He was a warrior, and that way of life came with blood.

  “And it’s unfair to bme yourself for what Agathor controlled you into doing,” Alcianne said, reassuring Arvayne.

  “True enough. Once my control was broken, Halor was considerate enough to also ask Alcianne if she wanted to remain as his Chosen,” Arvayne said. “She naturally asked to be free, a soul cultivator was contracted, and now we’re both free of the Gods. Simply living our lives and shepherding the young with advice from time to time.”

  “But I must say, this retirement is a bit boring for my tastes,” Alcianne said. The old woman had always been the headstrong brawler type. “Though I suppose some peace isn’t such a bad thing. No more war with Novarria, no concern of any descending Eldritch threats. We have you fighting heroically on our behalf now. A foe which can shatter gaxies… are you sure everything will be fine?”

  Frankly, Orodan wasn’t sure. But the st thing he needed was to make these two old folks worry.

  “It’ll be fine. One way or another, I’ll make it out the other side,” Orodan said.

  “And at worst, even if you do die and end up going back in time,” Arvayne spoke. “At least you won’t be a noble any longer.”

  “So it was you!?” Orodan excimed, harrumphing as the two old fools had a ugh at his expense. He sighed and dropped the matter. “In any case, I simply came by to see you and Halor. Is his new Chosen inside the Pace?”

  “Ah, the man’s been waiting outside for a while upon hearing that you wished to speak with Halor,” Alcianne said.

  Eh? That was a bit much. Orodan felt a little bad for keeping him waiting, but he hadn’t even known.

  “Ah, wish you’d told me. I didn’t mean to waste his time,” Orodan said.

  “And miss the chance to catch up?” Alcianne asked. “I think not. This has been a pleasure though, take care, Orodan Wainwright. What a surreal experience, being told of all these things we’ve experienced without actually remembering them.”

  “Indeed, take care granny,” Orodan said, earning a frown from her. “And you too old man.”

  Orodan bade them farewell and stepped out the door and into the hallway where a burly old man was waiting.

  “Orodan Wainwright, you wished to speak with Halor?” the man asked and Orodan nodded.

  The air became charged with divine energy, and suddenly, the man’s eyes began glowing.

  Halor, the God of Life and Nature. His Avatar’s body crackled with power, but was quickly healed, as expected of the God of Life. This God was one of the few Orodan was on amicable terms with. While he’d never directly helped Orodan, his Chosen, Alcianne Rockwood, had. And Halor had never gone against Orodan either, which couldn’t be said for three former members of the Prime Five.

  “Orodan Wainwright,” Halor said, proffering a hand.

  “Halor,” Orodan replied, taking the hand. “I see you’ve found a new Chosen. Who’s he?”

  “A Rockwood. Junior to Alcianne, but still mighty enough that he sufficed,” Halor said. “I profess, the loss of Alcianne was a blow to my power. But seeing her shackled to me when her love has finally returned would have been cruel. And if it’s power we need… Astaia has you.”

  “We’ll need more than just power, but cooperation for the coming battle. At least, if we’re to protect this world against the Hegemony and its allies,” Orodan said. “The looming threat beyond even that… I shall primarily face. Anyhow, I came to ask how the preparations for evacuation are going upon Inuan. I heard the council speaking of it, which is a good sign that things are underway. Have there been any holdouts?”

  “Evacuation is proceeding smoothly and in a timely manner. However there are some from the Eastern Kingdoms and Dokuhan Mountains who are refusing to evacuate,” Halor said. “Some of them are bumpkins, and we followed your instructions in respecting their choice. Mainly though, the dwarves.”

  “As expected. We’re at war with their God and faction,” Orodan said. “None of them have been harmed though, correct?”

  “As you instructed. We have left the dwarves to their own devices, though their practice of ensving and using captive drow and orcs as soul energy generators was quickly shut down,” Halor said. “That aside… they have refused to evacuate alongside us. There’s a distinct possibility they attempt to aid the enemy during the assault.”

  “So be it then. I assume you’ve set up adequate defenses and countermeasures in the case that they do?” Orodan asked and the Avatar of Halor nodded. “Good. If they wish to join the fight, we can treat them as combatants and sughter them then. But to just butcher a bunch of dwarves or forcibly evict them into another gaxy would be a bit low. The only targets of priority is the world core anyways.”

  And the System Control Spike, or Divine Tower.

  “It shall be done as you say. The leader of the Celestial Court also shares a simir mindset as yourself,” Halor said. “Orodan… if you do not mind me asking…”

  “Agathor?” Orodan asked, and Halor nodded.

  “I heard of your confrontation with him… and what he’d become.”

  “It was… not my finest moment. I didn’t directly make him join hands with the Hegemony to become a twisted abomination,” Orodan said. “But what I did to his mind was the cause. What happened to him… I take responsibility for it.”

  For a while Halor was silent.

  “Did he die with dignity?”

  “Aye. I forced his weapons into his hands and gave him the warrior’s death on his feet that he deserved,” Orodan answered.

  “I don’t suppose there’s any way you could spare him your enmity in future loops?” Halor asked.

  “He is a sworn enemy of mine. What he did to my mentor, Arvayne Firesword, what he tried doing to me… I will never forget that,” Orodan said, heat in his voice. “But… at the very least he need not be corrupted into a shell of what he was. He is my foe… but a respectable death is the least I can offer.”

  “He had his vices and fws… but we were friends,” Halor said. “I do not begrudge you sying him. If you ever encounter him again… just make his end a quick one, please.”

  “I will. And the same for Eximus and Ilyatana,” Orodan said. “Though, I know not where the Goddess of Fate has gone or what her current state is.”

  And from the looks of it, Halor didn’t either.

  Though, Orodan had a feeling he’d see them again.

  #

  It was a familiar clearing, with oddly sharp and pointy trees all around.

  “A wayward student has returned to enjoy the sights?”

  “You don’t even remember teaching me,” Orodan said.

  “It’s the principle of the matter,” Adeltaj quipped.

  “And considering that this pce served as your burial grounds once upon a time, I prefer not to visit so casually.”

  “I don’t remember such a thing.”

  “It’s the principle of the matter,” Orodan fired back. “Rather hard to remember your own death, unless you’re a time looper, or a reincarnator. Or resurrected.”

  “Hmm, well I have a hunch that you might be one of those three things,” Adeltaj said with a smirk on his face.

  In the time until the cultivators had returned to pick Orodan up and start his journey across the cosmos, he would often come by and speak to Adeltaj. If anything, this man, his first mentor, was a rather close confidante of his.

  “How’s my first teacher been?” Orodan asked. “Still driving the young folk up the wall with your talent for getting under the skin?”

  “Indeed. That little girl and the goblin you sent me are certainly a joy to anger,” Adeltaj said. “She won’t stop rising to every little taunt. At least she’s a ferocious fighter though. The goblin however, quite talented. He’ll surpass even me if he lives long enough.”

  “I always knew Zukelmux was destined for greatness. He’s an Elite but should be capable of fighting at the peak of the Master-level,” Orodan said. “What of the two others?”

  “Ah, those two siblings? They have their regur csses during the day at Bluefire, and then they’ll come receive my tutege at night,” Adeltaj said. “Strangely enough, the sister’s the more talented one of the two. Far better at fighting too. Shame she doesn’t care much for it.”

  Mahari and Altaj. And as expected, Mahari didn’t enjoy fighting or care much about it, but she sure was good at it.

  Orodan had taken Adeltaj aside and asked if he could take these four on as students, and the man had agreed.

  “Hmm, well not everyone wants to be a fighter. If everyone chases battle, who will do the farming and the crafting?” he asked. “Better that I fight in their stead.”

  “You mean we.”

  “No, I mean me old man,” Orodan countered. “Don’t even joke about that. I’ve had enough of your heroics.”

  “You mean when I nobly sacrificed myself against a True Vampire to save you?” Adeltaj asked.

  “And that was one death too many. I’ve had enough of people dying on my behalf,” Orodan replied.

  “Good thing then, that I know when I’m outmatched. I’m but a dual-Grandmaster, what use am I in a battle between Gods and Transcendents?” Adeltaj posed. “No. I and my students will be taking the grand array and living to fight another day. I only hope that my first student reunites with us once victorious.”

  “Does reuniting with you in Velestok at the beginning of the loops count?”

  “A rather defeatist attitude to have, isn’t it?” Adeltaj asked.

  “I spoke with the First Emperor earlier,” Orodan said. “He supposedly had faith that I always come out on top and prevail.”

  “Which, from what you tell me, you do. Thus far, have most of your desperate struggles not ended in victory of a sort?” Adeltaj asked.

  “Of a sort. That’s where the issue is… even if I win, it’s never an outcome I’m happy with,” Orodan admitted. “The first battle against the Eldritch Avatar? I resisted its corruption and acquired Eldritch Resistance, but I died. The second battle? I killed it and simultaneously died, and the continent of Guzuhar was destroyed. The third? I cleansed it but was then sin by the Hegemony as everyone died yet again. Pardon me if I’m a bit pessimistic.”

  “Quite the worry on your mind,” Adeltaj said. “Then again, it has always been the lot of heroes to bear such burdens. Even if yours is heavier than most.”

  “Hero? I wouldn’t call myself a hero, old man. You’re a hero. You selflessly gave your life for some reckless idiot who swung a sword and shield about,” Orodan said, recalling Adeltaj’s sacrifice. “Me? I’m a warrior. I chase the thrill of battle, the lust for combat and the ever-increasing strength of my sword arm. Hero is something best reserved for those doing good for good’s sake. For better people than I.”

  “If someone does something heroic then, does it not make them a hero?” Adeltaj asked. “You’ve certainly saved enough lives and done enough good while putting yourself at risk.”

  “Perhaps. But doing something heroic and being a hero are two different things,” Orodan said. “A vilin may perform a heroic act, and a hero may also perform a vilinous act. But at core, who someone is can be different to the acts they perform.”

  “What you’re suggesting then, is that the motive matters,” Adeltaj said, and Orodan nodded. “What then, is your motive, Orodan?”

  “Finding a good fight?”

  “A base desire, but I suspect not what you really want. One can have things they enjoy alongside their motives. Your desire for a good fight is just a want, mayhap even a need. Do you not have a dream, Orodan?”

  Did he have a dream?

  All he could think of were the dreams of others. Of Bastion Novar and his dream of a world of peace. Of Vespidia and her desire to free Faraine and then reunite with her wife. Of Mahari and her desire to prove herself better than the main line of her house. Of Adeltaj and how he enjoyed teaching.

  “A dream… I’m not sure. What I will admit though, is that all this strength, I’ve chased it for a reason,” Orodan said. “A number of people I care for have dreams. If I were to describe mine… perhaps it would involve having strength enough that I can be the pilr upon which their dreams rest. The God of Death doesn’t want to fight? Fine, I’ll do it for him. Mahari doesn’t want to be a legendary warrior? Not an issue, I’ll face down the foe. The First Emperor wants a world of peace? I shall fight to make that a reality. I enjoy fighting far too much to py the hero who goes around righting wrongs and fixing problems… but what I can do with all this strength, is enable the dreams of people better than I to become reality.”

  “The ground upon which the dreams of others can become real,” Adeltaj muttered. “A mighty ambition, befitting a warrior like yourself.”

  “And besides… I still have many skills I want to stubbornly grind.”

  #

  “Why did I figure I’d find you here?” Zaessythra asked. “Are you just… cleaning?”

  A dirty rag was in his hand, and he was doing repeated swipes of his bedside table and then using Time Reversal to make it dusty once more.

  Not a single skill level had gone up, mainly because Orodan had forced the comprehensions he had to remain buried deep. He was on the cusp. He knew… but not yet. It wasn’t yet time.

  For one-and-a-half weeks he’d been locked in his hovel, doing nothing but cleaning, and the occasional trip to the moon when Zaessythra wasn’t there.

  “Sometimes, one must focus on the basics,” Orodan said.

  “You could blink and cleanse this entire town with but a snap of your fingers,” Zaessythra said. “Though, I suppose there’s something to be said in finding mastery through extreme honing of the very fundamentals.”

  “You understand it then? Of course you do,” Orodan remarked. “You’re a freakish talent yourself. Still reading that book I see?”

  “You’re not the only one preparing,” Zaessythra said.

  “True enough. Yet sometimes, one needs a break from preparations,” Orodan said. “How about we take a walk? My hovel is a bit… dipidated and not the ideal pce to host anyone.”

  “I was about to say… is this how you treat a dy?”

  Orodan rolled his eyes, but ignored her comments.

  “How did you get here unnoticed anyways?” Orodan asked.

  “That’s just the thing,” she replied. “I didn’t.”

  “Sergeant… I think it went in there!”

  “Edrosic! If this turns out to be a waste of my time I’ll have you cleaning the cesspools! What’s this nonsense about a ten-foot tall female lizard?!”

  Zaessythra’s eyes narrowed.

  “Female lizard is it?” she asked in a low and threatening voice as she stepped out of his hovel and in full view of the street. “Care to rethink that choice of words?”

  “I-it’s real! By the Gods! Call the capital guard!” a militia woman yelled.

  “Hold ranks! Y-you… you’re trespassing in a restricted area! This here’s the house of Lord Orodan Wainwright! He used to serve with the county militia before his rise to success!” the voice bellowed. “Why, I used to be his sergeant! So if you think I’m intimidated, think again!”

  Orodan had heard enough and decided to step out himself.

  “Sergeant Woodgard?” he asked.

  The street had gone silent.

  Sergeant Woodgard had been his superior during Orodan’s time in the county militia. Before the time loops, the Sergeant had been the strongest member of the Ogdenborough barracks. A mid-level Apprentice. While Orodan had been the second strongest.

  “W-Wainwri- I mean… Lord Wainwright!” the man excimed. “This… monster is trespassing upon your domain!”

  “This ‘monster’ is my friend. We’re fine Sergeant,” Orodan said. He also noticed Parthus Edrosic next to the Sergeant. Orodan didn’t have anything against the man, but also had no words for what was a zy and cowardly man. Even in his first life Edrosic had fled, leaving Orodan to die alone. “Matter of fact, we’ll be leaving now.”

  Orodan and Zaessythra walked down the road, and the county militia immediately cleared a path.

  It was a little comedic, seeing the bumpkins of Ogdenborough react to a half-dragon. People stared on in utter wonder, and some men and women even had more scivious intentions in their eyes. Which was fair enough, for Orodan could also admit Zaessythra was captivating at times.

  “This here’s the tanner’s house,” Orodan said. “Filthy pce, or it used to be before I cleaned it at the very beginning of this loop. The tannins were practically bonded to the floorboards.”

  “Sounds like a mess,” she said.

  “And this is Fodgarton’s,” Orodan said as they continued walking. “I would get my cleaning supplies from here. Not a bad store, and the shopkeeper’s not connected to any noble houses. You can count on him to not price-gouge.”

  They continued on until they finally reached the completed warehouse at 4 Ale Road.

  “A warehouse?” Zaessythra asked.

  “Well yes, but at the beginning of the loop this pce is always under construction. It’s been over three months now since this long loop first started and the warehouse is done,” Orodan expined. “At the start of the loops though, I typically come by to help Old Man Hannegan and the architect build it up. Helped hone my Woodworking and craft skills a decent amount.”

  They continued on, towards the pza.

  “Is there where you got me that ‘fresh’ bowl of fruit and fish from?” Zaessythra asked. “Looks a bit better than the rest of this impoverished town.”

  “I got you that from a local grocer,” Orodan said, causing her face to crinkle up. “This, is Eversong Pza. A part of me still wants to raze it and the tavern into a crater.”

  How long had it been since he’d been here? So many of his early battles took pce upon the stone tiles of this accursed pza. Back then, it had been House Argon who controlled the pce. Orodan died hundreds of times against their troops until he made a dent, and then he met the Master-level necromancer and her Demonic Berserker pet which savaged him many hundreds of times more.

  He had entered the pza an average fighter. And he’d left a true warrior.

  It was also where it had all started.

  “Isn’t this where you died for the very first time?” Zaessythra asked, sniffing the air as though trying to uncover its secrets.

  “Aye,” Orodan said as he moved to a certain spot. “Right around here in fact. I fought and killed three Guzuharan raiders, Apprentice-level.”

  “You were at the Apprentice-level yourself too then, no?” she asked. “Even before the loops your talent was apparent.”

  “Perhaps,” Orodan acknowledged. “I took fatal wounds in killing the three though. I then used the st of my strength to charge and stab the unprotected back of the Master-level warchief. It was pitifully ineffective, and the st thing I remember is my vision spinning end over end as I was likely decapitated.”

  “So that’s how it all began. The mighty time looper, killed in battle by daring to rush in and take on all comers,” Zaessythra said. “I suppose it’s true, that power doesn’t really change someone at core. You’re still the same reckless idiot with a death wish, aren’t you?”

  “I suppose I am,” Orodan said. “Come, let’s head inside the tavern. Perhaps a bite to eat is called for.”

  “I forget that you eat food sometimes, Orodan,” she said.

  He was about to reply, but thought better of it. She wasn’t entirely wrong. He hadn’t really been training his Gourmand or Cooking skill overly much aside from that one time on X2.

  In any case, they pushed past the double doors of the newly revamped Castarian’s Boot Tavern and entered. This tavern would normally be closed off to anyone but House Argon and their approved visitors at the beginning of the loop, but they’d been proven traitors by now and the tavern and Ogdenborough were now under the purview of House Firesword.

  Frankly, the town in general had been doing a lot better since the joint-council had been implemented.

  Without House Argon blocking aid and due to the joint-council wanting to please Orodan, much investment had been put into Ogdenborough. This showed in the tavern as well, where people were boisterously drinking and ughing. The spirits of the townsfolk were far better than they’d ever been whenever the loops began.

  And out of the corner of his eye, a diminutive woman made her way towards him. She seemed more than a little inebriated too.

  “Hey… hey you! Aren’t you that famous lord?” the woman drunkenly asked. “They have your portrait up!”

  To his horror, they did indeed have a portrait of Orodan up on the wall! It was more than a little gmorized, and he wouldn’t be caught dead making such a stupid pose, but it was there, and it resembled him closely enough.

  “I’m not a damn lord…” Orodan muttered. “And where can I find the artist for that abomination?”

  “You know her, Orodan?” Zaessythra asked.

  “A few times, yes. This is Vilia Coventor, architect of the warehouse on 4 Ale Road,” Orodan answered.

  “Oi! How does a lord like you know me?” Vilia asked.

  “You do good work at pnning buildings,” Orodan said, causing the tiny woman’s eyes to widen. She really did need to eat more in his opinion. Or perhaps she was a halfling? “Anyways, have you seen the old man?”

  “What old man? There’s a lot of old men about town,” Vilia said.

  “You know, your foreman who helps run construction? Or used to anyways,” Orodan said. “Last I heard he took up as the new mayor’s assistant. Gregory Hannegan.”

  “Oh! That old grandpa? He was just around here, in fact-”

  A hand id upon his arm, but Orodan had seen him from when he was outside the tavern. Orodan turned around to see a familiar old man.

  “O-Orodan!? I heard… I heard it was you but I didn’t dare to believe it! You’ve been gone almost three months and everyone is up in arms about how you’re a lord now and that Ogdenborough owes its new propsperity to you!”

  “Old Man Hannegan, it’s been a while,” Orodan said putting a hand upon the man’s shoulder. “How’ve you been?”

  “Better now that I’ve id eyes upon you at st,” the old man said. “Nobody exactly tells me what it is you’ve been doing. Some say you’re fighting a secret war or have unlocked a Bloodline. Others tell me you’ve come into an incredibly wealthy inheritance. Well? What’s the answer? I bet you’re an Adept now, huh? You look pretty strong!”

  Orodan gave the man a fond smile and chose not to answer. To these folks, Elites were the pinnacle of society, with Masters being myths. World-traveling, battles in another gaxy and a coming battle with an Administrator? Old Man Hannegan knew nothing of such things, and it was frankly better that he didn’t.

  “Something along those lines,” Orodan said.

  “Fine, fine… dodge the question if you want,” the old man said and then eyed Zaessythra. “Well I’ll be… is this why they made you a noble? You a monster tamer now?”

  The entire tavern had stopped to ogle Zaessythra.

  “She’s not a monster,” he said.”

  “And let’s not get ahead of ourselves and assume he could ever tame me,” Zaessythra said.

  Well, reunion done. It was time to go as Zaessythra and even Orodan himself was getting a little irked by the staring. They walked up the stairs to the second floor private dining rooms where previously there’d been an interrogation chamber.

  Zaessythra took a seat

  “I find myself missing the days where there were other half-dragons and Vylrystia was whole,” she said.

  “I should be able to restore your world, I finally have the power to do it safely,” Orodan said as he began pulling things out of his spatial ring.

  “That’s… nice… what are you pulling out?” she asked.

  “Well, I did say we could use a bite to eat, no?” he asked.

  “I thought that meant sampling the local fare, and not your uh… ‘cooking’.”

  Orodan gave her an unamused look but continued doing what he was doing.

  “How about you give it a chance?” Orodan asked. “I spent a while looking up half-dragon cuisine before attempting to make something you might like. After all, weren’t you compining that I cooked for W78 and not for you?”

  “You… really just went to all this length because of one joking compint I made?” Zaessythra asked.

  “Why not? I’d have to be a vilin of the most ungrateful sort to not appreciate all you do for me,” Orodan said.

  “I hardly do-”

  “You’ve rescued me from the shards multiple times by now. And you then commanded the allied force to break the siege of Xian,” Orodan interrupted. “Not to mention, you taught me magic long ago, and have been watching my back for the longest time.”

  And she had died for him. Orodan really didn’t want to get too close to anyone, but if there was a good chance it would all end, then he’d have regrets if he didn’t at least thank Zaessythra before it came crashing down.

  “Fine, fine,” she said. “I admit, I am rather incredible. You’re only right to remain in awe.”

  “Now then, might I present… roasted rhino haunches, marinated in hydra heart broth and seasoned with Qi-rich spices sourced from Xian,” Orodan expined. “And on the side, a sampling of roasted and seasoned mushrooms from the abyssal depths.”

  Zaessythra looked hesitant, but once the smell reached her nose she couldn’t hide the look in her eyes.

  It was at minimum, decent. Orodan had made sure of it. Yes, she and many others made fun of his weird and exotic tastes, but that was specifically for his own pate. When it came to preparing meals for others, Orodan wasn’t silly enough to serve them something foreign and unpatable.

  “This is… quite the meal, Orodan,” she said. “Where are the mushrooms from?”

  “Ah yes, the mushrooms are from the abyssal depths of Vylrystia,” he answered.

  “How? That entire pnet should be a lifeless moon, unless…”

  “Time Reversal,” Orodan answered. “And I did get one more thing from there. Took a few trips to get it correct though.”

  He pulled out a bouquet.

  “Sasmaril flowers…” she muttered. “These… these aren’t the ones from Astaia either, are they? They smell of home…”

  “Took me multiple attempts at diving into the time stream to find them,” Orodan said. “But I got them, and tried making sure they were the ones closest to your old pace too. I remembered.”

  “You… you idiot,” she said, although it was with the least amount of heat he’d ever heard from her. “Why go this far? We’re about to engage in a camitous battle in a few days, and you choose to do this?”

  “Again, why not? If I don’t show my appreciation for you now, when will I? Once I’m dead and back in Ogdenborough?”

  “Don’t say that. Pessimism isn’t like you,” Zaessythra said.

  “Then you haven’t known me in the long loops,” Orodan said. “My mind always carries a dash of pessimism about these extended loops.”

  Zaessythra shook her head, her silver hair whipping about as she did. And ughed.

  “Well, in any case… thank you,” she said. “It’s good to be reminded that you can act like a normal person.”

  “And when do I not act like a normal person?” Orodan asked.

  “All the time,” she fired back. “But… mainly when you’re tapping into that soul skill of yours. It’s impressive and all, but I sometimes feel like the further you push your endless willpower, the less human you become. And I say this as a half-dragon.”

  “I’m still a human, Zaessythra,” Orodan said. “Flesh, blood and all.”

  Well, flesh at least. Maybe. His body certainly wasn’t the same as a regur human’s due to Absolute Body Composition.

  “Anyhow, let’s enjoy this meal you’ve cooked,” Zaessythra said and then held out a fork with food towards his mouth. “Will you not join me?”

  Why would he want to eat her food? From her fork too? That would just be rude.

  “Oh, don’t worry about it, anything for a close friend of mine,” Orodan said. “As for myself, I’ve prepared my own meal.”

  A delicious dish was brought out of his spatial ring. And Zaessythra’s face immediately quailed.

  “I’ve been waiting to try this steamed demonic sandworm for the longest time!” Orodan decred. “Killed it in the hells and cooked it myself.”

  She looked positively ill, but focused on her own meal, which she noted was quite good.

  The sandworm was delicious of course, and he gained three levels in Gourmand from it.

  Although he had no clue why Zaessythra was shooting him weird looks all throughout the meal.

  As they ate, Orodan mentally called up his Status, giving it one st look over.

  Name: Orodan Wainwright Age: 17 Title 1: Perfect Cleaning Master Title 2: Celestial Master Title 3: Bearer Of A Celestial Skill Title 4: Cleaning Master Avaible Titles:

  Bearer Of A Celestial Skill World Conqueror World Gate Delver Avatar Syer Wielder Of A Mythical Skill One Who Has Experienced Death God Syer Transcendent Syer Celestial Master Perfect Cleaning Master Cleaning Master Unarmed Combat Master Physical Master Combat Master Shield Master Sword Elite Wrestling Elite Soul Elite Woodworking Adept Alchemy Adept Space Adept Time Adept Fire Magic Apprentice Enchanting Apprentice Teaching Apprentice Laboring Apprentice Bcksmithing Apprentice Pathfinding Apprentice Gathering Apprentice Cooking Apprentice

  Rewards:

  Permanent +14 Action Increase Permanent +0.1 Title Multiplier

  Skills:

  Domain Of Perfect Cleaning 99 (Master - Celestial)

  Eternal Soul Reactor 99 (Master - Mythical) Warrior’s Reciprocity 87 (Elite - Mythical) Eldritch Resistance 68 (Adept - Mythical) Divine Resistance 54 (Adept - Mythical) Reality Alteration 20 (Initiate - Mythical) Absolute Body Composition 1 (Initiate - Mythical)

  Harmony of Vitality 98 (Master - Legendary) All-Strike 91 (Master - Legendary) Unassaible Fortress 87 (Elite - Legendary) Bulwark Physical Resistance 85 (Elite - Legendary) Endless Blitz 85 (Elite - Legendary) Time Reversal 78 (Elite - Legendary) Draconic Fireball 74 (Elite - Legendary) Body Tempering 66 (Adept - Legendary) Mana Resistance 65 (Adept - Legendary) Vision of Purity 62 (Adept - Legendary) Wood Communion 56 (Adept - Legendary) Time Compression 51 (Adept - Legendary) Fate Disconnect 43 (Apprentice - Legendary) Iron Body 88 (Elite - Exquisite) Time Mastery 82 (Elite - Exquisite) Psionic Resistance 79 (Elite - Exquisite) Fsh Strike 76 (Elite - Exquisite) Draconic Mana Channelling 68 (Adept - Exquisite) Vitality Destruction 59 (Adept - Exquisite) Fire Resistance 53 (Adept - Exquisite) Lightning Resistance 48 (Apprentice - Exquisite) Wind Resistance 41 (Apprentice - Exquisite) Water Resistance 39 (Apprentice - Exquisite) Ice Resistance 38 (Apprentice - Exquisite) Dimensionalism 29 (Initiate - Exquisite) Curse Resistance 9 (Initiate - Exquisite)

  Space Mastery 84 (Elite - Rare) Soul Mastery 78 (Elite - Rare) Teleportation 59 (Adept - Rare) War Cry 43 (Apprentice - Rare) Acid Resistance 37 (Apprentice - Rare) Gourmand 16 (Initiate - Rare) Spatial Fold 77 (Elite - Uncommon) Shield Throw 69 (Adept - Uncommon) Shield Intent 69 (Adept - Uncommon) Power Strike 61 (Adept - Uncommon) Mana Manipution 58 (Adept - Uncommon) Fate Reading 31 (Apprentice - Uncommon)

  Physical Fitness 95 (Master) Pain Resistance 94 (Master) Unarmed Combat Mastery 92 (Master) Combat Mastery 90 (Master) Shield Mastery 90 (Master) Sword Mastery 88 (Elite) Wrestling 83 (Elite) Woodworking 67 (Adept) Tool Mastery 66 (Adept) Alchemy 64 (Adept) Fre 63 (Adept) Enchanting 59 (Adept) Surprise Attack 45 (Apprentice) Bcksmithing 49 (Apprentice) Fire Magic Mastery 48 (Apprentice) Jewelcrafting 48 (Apprentice) Pathfinding 46 (Apprentice) Teaching 43 (Apprentice) Sprinting 39 (Apprentice) Laboring 34 (Apprentice) Maintenance 34 (Apprentice) Gathering 32 (Apprentice) Cooking 32 (Apprentice) Construction 28 (Initiate) Repair 22 (Initiate) Intimidation 20 (Initiate) Magical Rituals 18 (Initiate) Mining 17 (Initiate) Club Mastery 15 (Initiate) Butchering 14 (Initiate) Disguise 12 (Initiate) Skinning 11 (Initiate) Lumberjacking 11 (Initiate) Parkour 11 (Initiate) Observe 11 (Initiate) Stealth 9 (Initiate) Thievery 6 (Initiate) Identify 5 (Initiate) Deception 4 (Initiate)

  He had come far, but only time would tell if this would be enough.

  #

  The few remaining days they had passed in peace, which mainly involved Orodan cleaning and practicing the basic motions. Zaessythra rarely tagged along, and when she did, she seemed more withdrawn than usual.

  Orodan figured it was the stress getting to her.

  He’d already accepted that she was going to be fighting alongside him. It was her choice and who was he to deny that?

  Astaia had also been evacuated. All willing civilians had been sent through the Concve’s grand array into another gaxy. Normally the cost of teleporting that many people would’ve been astronomical and beyond the ability of any single faction, but when one had access to Orodan Wainwright, energy generation was no issue.

  The defense command - consisting of the leaders of each faction of the allied forces and critical personnel - had taken up position in Novar’s Peak.

  Currently, Astaia was on full alert. There was perhaps less than six hours left until the Reject nded, and the days leading up to this had all been rife with the potential or raids, early attacks and harassing hit & run tactics. Thankfully none had come, the enemy was smart to conserve their forces and avoid giving Orodan more room to grow.

  W78, for once, had a moment of free time, and thus Orodan had dragged his metallic friend along to see something in-person. That something being under Mount Castarian.

  “Analysis: unknown construct dispying signs of intentional misconstruction. Current maximal power capacity - ten percent of theoretical maximal reserves.”

  “The ancient machine’s been built wrong then? Was it the Novarrians? The Republic?” Orodan asked.

  “Analysis: tampering by native popuce unlikely. Intentional misconstruction by creator suspected.”

  Whoever it was that had built this thing… had apparently built it incorrectly. Or rather, intentionally built it imperfectly. With its current power reserves and the dimensional runes upon it, the ancient machine could go to the hells. But W78 had told him a while ago that this machine could hypothetically go somepce else if built correctly and at full power.

  The machine that was the centerpiece of his early loops was still a mystery to him.

  W78 pced a metallic appendage atop the power core, and then Orodan pced his hand above W78’s. A stream of power went from his hand into a rune on the pte of W78’s hand. This was then converted into usable power for the core.

  “There. With that, it should be powered up and ready to go,” Orodan said. “One more avenue of escape should everything go wrong. The grand array’s been closed now. But if it all turns bad, get yourself to safety, okay? Don’t die.”

  “Information: unit will attempt to prioritiz self-preservation,” W78 said.

  “Good, good.”

  They examined the machine a bit further until an amulet on Orodan’s neck began glowing, signalling that the defense command wanted him in Novar’s Peak.

  With a swift Teleportation, he took both himself and W78 into the war room.

  Zhou Shan, King Alstatyn, Captain-General Ryzn and two other Knight-Commanders of the Concve, and a miniaturized extension of A1 were all inside the room. As was Zaessythra, Vespidia and the Avatars of the elven Gods. Jian Yixia was present as well, but only for her role in the obscuring formation she’d pced upon Astaia. She wouldn’t be participating in the battle.

  “Orodan, you’ve arrived. Our scans report the approaching fleet of dwarven voidships and much disturbance in the dimensional yers,” Zhou Shan stated. “We believe an attack is imminent.”

  “Now? I thought they’d perhaps attack in concert with the Reject?” Orodan asked.

  “Perhaps they think to soften us up and earn the Administrator’s favor? In any case, we can only postute,” Zhou Shan said. “King Alstatyn, are your troops and voidcraft ready? We must take to the air to meet them. Allowing the dwarves to set up an encirclement would be a bad decision. Their guns are strong, and I fear this pnet would not st long under the gunfire, even with any shielding we can provide.”

  “Indeed High Sovereign, the voidcraft and guns of the Bckworth Collective stand ready to assist,” King Alstatyn said. “We can outmaneuver dwarven voidcraft in an open battle within the void, but are far less effective in a siege.”

  “Then I should go out with and unch a direct assault,” Orodan suggested. “The fewer enemies we have remaining by the time the Reject arrives, the better.”

  “I would normally disagree with such… forward thinking,” Zaessythra said. “But in this case, you’re right. I shall go with him and ensure the shards cannot target him. Captain-General, you and your men should board the Bckworth voidcraft and alongside the cultivators, function as boarding crew. And as for the Unity, hang back in reserve for if the enemy brings in unexpected reinforcements or performs a fnking maneuver. Astaia itself needs to be guarded.”

  The faction leaders and commanders had already seen Zaessythra’s stratagems and knack for command in action. They naturally agreed.

  The end was nigh.

  The battle for Astaia was set to begin.

  #

  The allied voidship fleet was arrayed against the enemy one.

  Orodan stood atop the deck of the leading ship at the front of the fleet. King Alstatyn and Zaessythra at his side.

  “They’re sending a ship forward, sir,” a soldier reported.

  “Looks like they want to talk,” Orodan said. “I’ll go forward.”

  “And be subject to the fire of how many ships? You’re a priority target,” Zaessythra said. “Of course, they don’t want to kill you. Instead they’ll want to use the shards. Good thing you have me with our own shards alongside you.”

  “Alright, I get the hint. You want to come with me,” Orodan said.

  Orodan cast a quick teleportation and appeared a healthy distance away from the enemy ship, ferrying Zaessythra along. They floated in the void, neither of them needed to breath. The distance was less to protect themselves and more to avoid scaring the enemy into thinking they were trying anything.

  And the first person out of the voidcraft, was a Crusader. A somewhat familiar one, although the God seemed to be in control rather than the Transcendent.

  “Eximus. I see you also subjected yourself to that abominable soul meld. Yet you remain in control. Did they allow that in exchange for you providing the location of Astaia?” Orodan said. “Come to receive your death at my hands?”

  “Orodan Wainwright. Long has your wicked face pgued my dreams,” Eximus said. “The Hegemony is one of the few remaining forces of justice in our gaxy. Our alliance bands together against the tyranny of the time looper. You humiliated me and drove me from my home. My faithful, rounded up and cleansed of my Blessing. My statues and temples, defaced. In allying with Lord Agrimon I’ve received new power. Transcendence,”

  “Bandy your lies elsewhere. You’re an enemy God who betrayed his own home world. You do realize that the Reject will not leave Astaia intact, yes?” Orodan asked. “As for your faithful, yes they were purged of your Blessing, but they were then immediately offered new ones if they so chose, alongside generous compensation. Unlike yourself who has been naught but a pgue to me over the course of my time loops.”

  “I do not recall ever offending you, nor would I do such a thing!”

  “Yet you, Agathor and Ilyatana possessed me all the same. You clearly have the capacity to do such a thing, and our enmity will never fade,” Orodan decred.

  “And so you pass judgement and swing the executioner’s axe yourself,” Eximus said. “You call yourself a warrior, yet I think you nothing but a killer… a defiler. One need look no further than what Agathor suffered at your hands. Or what Ilyatana goes through still.”

  “I make no excuses for what I did. It was a foul act which will remain a stain on my honor,” Orodan professed. “I gave Agathor the honest death he deserved, and intend to do the same for Ilyatana. You, though, were offered a chance to flee, yet you’ve taken up with my enemies.”

  “An easy decision once I saw what became of the other two. Do you expect me to stand around and cower away while my friends were made to suffer?” Eximus asked.

  “And who was it that started the enmity between us?!” Orodan angrily asked. “Portray yourself the victim all you want, but none of this would have happened if the three of you hadn’t tried possessing me as a puppet against my will. But, enough talk. I sense the shards you have abord that ship, as well as the additional Transcendents. Your spells and illusions might hide them visually, and even from Vision of Purity, but my instincts are honed like that of a monster’s. I sense them from here.”

  Eximus twitched as the ruse was up.

  Frankly, Orodan hated diplomacy and talking before battle.

  His first move, was a monstrously overpowered Spatial Fold. Directly onto Eximus’s head.

  Much like the one he’d used upon Xuejin to destroy a pnet-sized continent. He’d only grown stronger since then too.

  [Spatial Fold 77 → Spatial Fold 79]

  [Space Mastery 84 → Space Mastery 86]

  “Stop him! He used a simir attack on Xuejin!” an enemy God in one of the further back voidships called.

  Enemy spatiomancers attempted to contest his Spatial Fold. Enemy chronomancers tried freezing or slowing him down. Yet it was all for naught as Orodan’s power generation capabilities had grown through this long loop and the attack was far greater in power.

  At the final moment, the enemy commanders realized that actually stopping the attack wasn’t possible. Consequently, the commanding dwarven God could only say one thing.

  “Scatter! Gain as much distance as you can!”

  Simultaneously, King Alstatyn shouted a singur command.

  “Attack! Prey upon their disorganized formation!”

  The Spatial Fold which he’d insanely compressed, down to the size of a grain of sand, was practically begging to explode.

  And so he let it.

  Eximus died. As that treacherous rodent deserved. No amount of meddling with the sickening process of becoming a Crusader would allow the Inuanan God of Time to match Orodan.

  And the explosion of space continued emanating outward, enough that it would destroy a gigantic Xian-sized pnet if Orodan wanted.

  A full third of the enemy fleet which hadn’t managed to escape were sin on the spot. Multiple Transcendents, Gods in the material pne, all gone in one singur explosion.

  Orodan was about to deliver another one when he learned why there were no important enemy figures present.

  [Dimensionalism 29 → Dimensionalism 30]

  [New Title → Dimensionalism Apprentice]

  The dimensional yers crackled, and Orodan saw two gigantic cosmic eyes.

  Agrimon. Leader of the Hegemony. And in his hands, a rge crystal with a beam emanating from it, headed right for Orodan.

  “Oh no you don’t,” Zaessythra said, and drew her own crystal, formed from multiple shards. She channelled all her power into it, and the terrifying beam which could’ve obliterated an entire star simply got absorbed into Zaessythra’s crystal.

  “They’ve discovered the defensive uses of the shards. All within expectations,” Agrimon said. “Avraxas. The time looper is exposed, isote it.”

  The dimensional boundaries which were already cracked, outright shattered as something very, very big flew towards Orodan.

  It had many teeth, and its mouth was rge enough to swallow an entire pnet.

  At the st moment, Orodan threw Zaessythra into the opening of a Teleportation which carried her far away. Simultaneously, he moved himself as far away from the allied fleets as he could. Which was successful, as the mouth which enveloped him caught only Orodan and no other allies.

  The surroundings changed seamlessly. The stars in the void all around were no longer there, impossible shapes and geometry were all around him, and the very nature of reality became a bit more ethereal.

  Within this separate dimension, a horde of Transcendents appeared. And there were a number of shards.

  Bad news.

  Orodan immediately activated the one skill which would give him the speed boost needed to withstand this assault.

  [Time Compression 51 → Time Compression 53]

  [Time Mastery 82 → Time Mastery 83]

  Immediately, he shifted onto a far faster time field than any of the Transcendents who’d suddenly popped up. And almost as immediately, he felt a number of enemy chronomancers attempting to either interfere with his control over the Time Compression or throw their friends and allies onto it, negating his speed advantage.

  The first of the shard beams came for him, and he dodged it with ughable ease. The following ones were also avoided easily enough. One came quite close, and did the tell-tale diversion where it maliciously attempted to move and hit him anyways, but he evaded that too.

  Some of the enemy Transcendents had items which were supposed to automatically bring them onto any hastened time fields nearby, but these items began shattering under the strain of attempting to match Orodan’s power over time and the raw energy backing it.

  One by one, his sword began reaping the lives of these Transcendents, as he put particur focus towards the shard-bearers. Yes, he would normally love to take a beam head-on to test himself, but in a battle with such high stakes he couldn’t afford to be without the System.

  The enemy squad sent to kill him had either overestimated themselves or not kept up with his growing power. Of course, the Hegemony wasn’t stupid, and they had other methods of dealing with him.

  One of which slipped into this strange dimension sneakily enough that Orodan almost hadn’t noticed.

  The only thing Orodan saw was simple robes, and an unassuming face. Yet one which bore the calcuting smile of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

  Immediately, the Dao of Domination and Supremacy smashed into his mind, and a separate assault of domination hit the compressed time field Orodan was maintaining.

  He resisted the assault upon his mind rather well. His mind had grown strong, tempered by his encounter with that terrifying cosmic being affiliated with the shards. His Time Compression though, under duress from a peak-Transcendent Celestial skill, was overwhelmed.

  “We meet again, Orodan Wainwright,” Jian Huangdi, the Celestial Emperor said. “I see your mind has grown even stronger. To the point that you can resist my Dao. That’s fine however… can you break free quickly enough to save your fellows? Can you escape before the Reject arrives to prey upon you?”

  “I sent you running st time. Your Celestial skill is no match for mine,” Orodan said.

  “Much as it rankles my pride, you are correct. The universe has never seen a greater Celestial talent than you,” the Celestial Emperor said. “But how many avenues of attack can you resist? I’m not the only one you must deal with.”

  “Orodan Wainwright! Behold… my pure nature… I am so good-hearted… will you not come see how pure of mind I am?”

  Golden energy wrapped around her form. Dark skin, much like Mahari’s. And a resembnce to his friend from Bluefire so simir that Orodan was certain the girl was a descendant of this Goddess.

  The Goddess of Fate, the first person to attempt to mind control Orodan in the time loops.

  “Ilyatana…”

  She was a monstrosity. Visually she looked the same. Yet inspection with Vision of Purity showed how her mind was utterly warped. The piece that Orodan had slipped in and empowered through Incorruptible Being had forced the rest of her mind to fracture, to mutate. She was a maddened beast, and her own willpower which was mighty, had cshed against Orodan’s mental tampering, leading to insanity.

  This was his fault.

  Alongside her, a virtual army of Gods appeared. And even more Transcendents.

  “Now let us see if you can resist us all,” the Celestial Emperor said. And the battle resumed.

  Orodan was overwhelmed. There was no other way to put it.

  The gigantic world-dragon Avraxas had swallowed him and the result was being dragged into another dimension. Which meant that Gods could freely enter and remain here. The Gods themselves weren’t the problem though. The Transcendents they were empowering were.

  An army of limbs attempted to restrain him, roots, vines, chains, water, ice, earth. All with the goal of restraints and not death. And any attempts to use chronomancy or spatiomancy of his own were targeted by Jian Huangdi’s Celestial skill.

  Unless he fred Eternal Soul Reactor to the point that he killed himself, Orodan was at their mercy. And the almighty bst from the shard that Jian Huangdi was sending his way looked to practically seal his fate.

  Orodan’s eyes widened.

  That was it!

  These foes weren’t aware of one more method of countering the beams from the shards. They hadn’t been inside the hells, and news from there was notoriously slow.

  If anyone else had fired the beam, Orodan would’ve been done for.

  But, in a dispy of tactics, Jian Huangdi intended to maximize the odds of the beam obliterating Orodan’s System by empowering it himself. However, the problem was…

  …that much like the former Script-King, Jian Huangdi’s soul was dirty. Tainted with the Eldritch.

  Which meant that the beam from the shard was also tainted with Eldritch.

  And it could be cleansed.

  Orodan ignored all the Transcendents restraining him and focused on only one thing as he created an Action Increase ‘clone’ with a broom in its hand. His constant barrage and resistance had allowed the slightest opening to present itself, and with just one hand on the broom…

  …he swept outwards.

  The Eldritch tainted soul energy empowering the beam vanished, and the beam fizzled and faltered. And the broom continued on to connect with the Celestial Emperor himself.

  “Return to who you originally were, Jian Huangdi,” Orodan said as the broom connected.

  [Domain of Perfect Cleaning 99 → Domain of Perfect Cleaning 100]

  [New Title → Perfect Cleaning Grandmaster]

  [New Title → Cleaning Grandmaster]

  [New Title → Celestial Grandmaster]

  And the Eldritch taint - some of the strongest and most deep-rooted Orodan had ever felt - within the man’s soul… was instantly purged.

  With a scream of agony, Jian Huangdi fell to a knee, and at st Orodan had the opportunity to utilize Time Compression once more.

  Time sped up dramatically, and one by one, the Transcendents and Gods attacking him began falling in droves as he cut them down. Until at st, it was just Jian Huangdi remaining.

  Orodan’s sword came up…

  …and was instead sheathed. His hand was proferred.

  “Your son, Zhou Shan, fights the forces of the Hegemony still,” Orodan said. “Will you remain on your knees, or will you stand up and fight for the remaining family you have left?”

  “Zhou Shan… yes… he always was a strong boy… meant for great things,” Jian Huangdi said and then took the offerred hand. “I will aid you, time looper. My mind is clear for the first time in… millions? Billions of years? For so long did I refuse to bend to the truth… I accepted it but did not allow it to diminish my own importance. And yet, over time I too was corrupted all the same.”

  “I suspected that how one perceives the Eldritch truth determines how the infection takes hold,” Orodan said.

  “Correct. The deeper one understands it, the stronger its roots are. Those who accept it and still retain their minds, are the ones who’ve glimpsed the truth and still not disregarded their own importance in the cosmos,” Jian Huangdi said. “You must be careful. This thing. The System, our universe… there are dark and terrible things out there. One of which empowers it all within the reality we know?”

  “What do you mean?” Orodan asked. “Expin yourself further.”

  “I cannot… even thinking on it threatenes to put me into a deep madness once more…” the Celestial Emperor said. “When I delved into that bck hole and arrived at the core of our System Universe… I met the Reject, and that caged thing I saw… no, no… I cannot speak of it any longer lest I fall into madness again even without Eldritch taint. Just be wary, Orodan Wainwright. The more you know of it, the more susceptible to madness you become. And heavens forbid you glimpse it… you become like myself and the Reject. To think the revered founding Daoist has fallen so…”

  “We should get out of here then,” Orodan said. “But before that…”

  Orodan walked towards the heavily wounded, yet still living Ilyatana.

  She was pathetic. Not even a Crusader, just a God. Yet joined with the Hegemony out of desperation and the madness which had infected her mind.

  “Orodan… Orodan… do you not think me pure enough now? Behold, I perform no more wicked deeds… I go around sying evildoers, I hunt the wicked… just like you wanted,” Ilyatana said. “In fact, the greatest of evildoers… is standing before me. Bring me your neck, that I might execute you and dispense justice like you did upon me.”

  “Even before I defiled your mind, you were wicked. And yet… no being deserves such a fate,” Orodan said. “Your current state is my fault. The suffering you’ve endured is on my hands. I cannot take it back, but the least I can do is take responsibility and end this.”

  His sword was raised. And Domain of Perfect Cleaning shot out, setting her mind whole once more. Now at the Grandmaster-level, he could do such things.

  “I am… I am free? What has happened?”

  “Something very bad happened to you… but you’re still my enemy,” Orodan said. “Stand up, and face your honest death.”

  “Tch… Orodan Wainwright. You’ll suffer, just as you forced me to suffer,” Ilyatana venomously spat as she stood up. “You think dispensing some righteous death onto me absolves you of what you’ve done?”

  “Not in the slightest. But you’re an enemy of all the same,” Orodan said. “Stand, and face me. My enmity for you will never abate. One of us dies here and now.”

  “End it then. I care not for your diatribes and farcical procmations of an honest death,” she said. “I will not draw my weapon. The only thing you’ll be forced to do is execute an unarmed woman.”

  His bde descended and lopped the head off her shoulders. Divine energy spilled out, and she faded away.

  “…that was decisive of you,” Jian Huangdi said.

  “It was necessary. No amount of honor or procmations will erase what I’ve done,” Orodan said. “But a warrior acknowledges his faults and moves forward. My misdeeds don’t erase hers. She was a wicked Goddess and our enmity was deep-seated.”

  Suddenly, the skies crackled, before Orodan could think of breaking free from the Crusader dragon Avraxas, the job was done for him as the dimensional boundaries cracked and a roar of horror and agony erupted.

  The dimension and impossible geometric shapes all around faded away to reveal the regur void of the material pne, and Astaia in the distance. And a half-dead Vespidia falling towards them.

  Above her. A dragon, writing in agony, and a titanic giant that was dead.

  Vespidia’s divine dagger had worked. At the cost of her own life, the Crusader dragon of the Hegemony had been defeated.

  Orodan caught her.

  He wanted to rage. To scream to the heavens and the hells of the unfairness of having to watch a friend die once more.

  Yet, he did not. For he knew this was what Vespidia herself wanted.

  “You… you’re dying,” Orodan said.

  “J-just as pnned…,” Vespidia said, choking in-between breaths. “Now I can go see my w-wife again.”

  “I could heal you. Resurrect your wife too,” Orodan said.

  “E-except… it’s not what I want…” she said, beginning to fade away from the numerous wounds. Most of which were the result of excessive divine energy. Faraine had done the job of empowering her to deliver the blow. “Let me die… Orodan…”

  “Very well,” he said, closing her eyes. “Be at peace… Vylme.”

  It was her original name back in her old life as an elf. Orodan’s heart was heavy, but he showed no further emotion. To do so would disrespect the passing of the warrior that had just fallen.

  He looked up.

  In the void above, the battle was… going well?

  The fleet of the Bckworth Collective looked to be winning. The remainder of the Hegemony had arrived, Agrimon, Astavar and Excromon were fighting alongside Varkir. Their opponents were Zhou Shan, the commanders of the Concve and A1, the prime combat unit of the Unity.

  The battle was going well.

  Too well.

  “Jian Huangdi! Why do you stand there?! Hit the time looper with the shard!” Agrimon bellowed.

  “I think not… I believe, that my son requires my assistance,” the Celestial Emperor said as he flew towards the battle.

  This was where things began to go wrong. And Orodan felt it. He knew this was a distinct possibility, and things were going too well for it not to happen.

  In front of him, the dimensional yer quaked, and he saw the arrival of an old man. White beard, religious sceptre in hand… and that damned book. Purple veins were visible all over the man’s skin.

  “A-ancestor…?” Captain-General Ryzn asked, utterly bewildered. “It is… it’s the ancestor!”

  “No you idiots! It’s the Prophet!” Orodan roared. “Back away, now!”

  The Prophet looked directly at Orodan…

  …and smiled.

  The holy book in the Prophet’s hands opened up, and golden light came out.

  “It’s the ancestor! Bearing the Book of Light! Behold how glorious it is!” Lady Sujana excimed in joy.

  Oh how Orodan wanted to roar, but before he could, before anyone could act. The holy light coming out of the book, suddenly turned a sick shade of purple and gray.

  And at exactly the same time, the holy light the soldiers, commanders and Captain-General of the Concve were using… also turned purple.

  Suddenly, the ranks of Concve soldiers which had been dutifully protecting the infantry and voidcraft of the Bckworth Collective, now became frenzied, maddened. Corrupted by the Eldritch. They turned around and began fighting the allied forces.

  The Prophet immediately vanished, and Orodan figured why.

  An instant after the Prophet’s disappearance, space was carved and torn apart by a hulking fifteen-foot tall warrior who’d saved him before. The Warrior.

  He disappeared as quickly as he entered, and seemed to be in hot pursuit of the Prophet. However, the damage had already been done. The Eldritch energies were spreading through the ranks of enemies and allies alike.

  He’d once learned that the reason the Bckworth Collective had no Gods on the front lines of the war against the Eldritch was due to how vulnerable they were, and how much of a security threat they posed. He now saw why first-hand as Gods serving the Concve were corrupted and any soldiers bearing their Blessing immediately turned to Eldritch corruption alongside them. Almost the entirety of the Concve had been corrupted by Eldritch within seconds.

  Somehow, the Prophet, who was apparently an ancestor of theirs, had corrupted the very light they used.

  The corruption was spreading among their own forces too, as soldiers of the Collective were infected. However, the enemy weren’t untouched either. The dwarves were infected and they suffered a far greater toll as they had Gods among their battle forces and the corruption of one meant the infection of dozens of regur soldiers with Blessings.

  The Eldritch were a force of their own, and seemed intent on attacking both the allied forces and the Hegemony. A double-edged sword.

  “We must cleanse them,” Jian Huangdi said. “Orodan Wainwright, I will cover you. Purge the Eldritch from the battlefield.”

  The Celestial Emperor’s aid was appreciated as the Eldritch seemed to instinctively know that Orodan’s Celestial skill was the single greatest threat. They charged in a virtually suicidal manner all for the sake of stopping him.

  Jian Huangdi was strong though. His peak-Transcendent Celestial skill shot out and held the foe at bay, and that was all Orodan needed as the Domain of Perfect Cleaning erupted forth and the first thousand Concve soldiers attempting to rush him were all purged.

  Orodan moved forward, Jian Huangdi following along, and he surged outwards with another wave of purification. Now, at the Grandmaster-level, Domain of Perfect Cleaning was monstrous.

  An infected Lady Sujana attempting to attack Zaessythra was purified, and the half-dragon immediately flew to Orodan’s side.

  “Don’t ever pull that dumb stunt again,” she said.

  “And yet, without your presence outside, I doubt the soldiers would’ve fared as well,” Orodan replied.

  Still, despite his efforts. Any soldiers from the Concve he purified were simply getting re-infected.

  “It’s the light,” Zaessythra said. “The Prophet infected the very light they use instinctively. They draw upon it like a mage does their own mana pool. Of course they’ll be re-infected.”

  “We’ll be overwhelmed at this rate,” Orodan said. “We need more soldiers. Perhaps we should draw the Unity’s troops out as reinforcements?”

  “A good idea, let-”

  Zaessythra’s amulet glowed, and a message came forth.

  “Information: unknown signatures detected on pnetary surface. Destination: Mount Castarian.”

  “Mount Castarian? What do you mean, W78?” Zaessythra asked. “But how would they arrive there? The entire world should be fortified against hostile spatiomancy.”

  “Because we powered up the ancient machine, which uses dimensionalism,” Orodan said. “We thought it a good escape route to have… but it turns out the connection goes both ways.”

  “Information: unknown signatures breaking atmosphere and traveling towards battlefield.”

  “More enemies? Tch… it’s not looking so good, and the Reject isn’t even here yet,” Zaessythra said.

  “No… I suspect it’s not enemies that come from that machine,” Orodan said.

  His words were proven correct a moment ter when the flying unknown force finally revealed themselves.

  “Devil King Azgaraaz arrives to repay his favor!” the Arch-Devil called out. “I see Eldritch-infected knights and padins of the Concve. An excellent chance to draw blood on two enemies of the hells!”

  “Of course you made a friend in the hells…” Zaessythra muttered. “Let’s take advantage of the momentum and surge forward!”

  She didn’t have to tell him twice.

  Orodan surged onwards and continued purging Eldritch as he went. Behind him, Arch-Devils and script-bearer mages from the hells supported and watched his fnks and Concve soldiers who were continually re-infected were sealed within rge bck coffins for ter study and extrication.

  Additionally, the devils were all too happy to just kill soldiers of the Concve. No purification necessary.

  Well… Orodan didn’t exactly agree, but he could resurrect them and figure out how to purify the light ter.

  Things were now going well.

  “F-father?” Zhou Shan asked with incredulity as the Celestial Emperor stepped in and aided Zhou Shan in his duel against Agrimon

  “Enjoying your imminent victory, are you?” Agrimon asked as he appeared to be pushed backwards by the father-son duo. “I believe you are forgetting the real threat behind this assault of ours.”

  Orodan had a very bad feeling of horrid danger. He’d felt this before.

  Despite each cell in his body being capable of sight, hearing and tactice sensation, he neither felt, saw nor heard the blow which hit him.

  Although he did feel a titanic impact, enough that it felt world-shaking.

  Only once things had slowed down did he realize that two swords were pnted into his chest and someone was stading on top of him.

  “Why if it isn’t my little Wainwright! How’ve you been?! Made any carts recently? I apologize for taking so long. Problem with being called the Reject is that the System and Custodian don’t like me taking the official methods of travel such as teleportation or wormholes.”

  “I’m afraid my Woodworking skill hasn’t been taken that way as of yet,” Orodan replied.

  “A tad bit disappointing. Did you not yet discover that almost anything can become a skill if you focus on it enough?” the Reject asked. “If you live, breathe, eat and sleep while thinking of carts and how to make them, I’m sure you’ll become an Embodier Wainwright in no time!”

  This Administrator was insane. Orodan stood no chance in a direct fight.

  Thus, he made the decision he’d committed to a while back. It was now or never.

  [C#he*ck&po%int S@et]

  “Oooh! Interesting! That’s a new mechanism I’ve never seen before,” the Reject said. “Did it give you a new toy? Oh… oh! I see! It’s connected to the System’s Control Spike! Why… that dastardly Custodian, working alongside it to create new advantages for you time loopers.”

  Eternal Soul Reactor fred to the utmost, and Orodan empowered every single ‘clone’ of himself to throw All-Strikes upwards at the Administrator treating his chest like a floor.

  A mere boot met his attack and blew half of his body apart. He reformed easily enough, but during that, he saw how direction the shockwave went…

  …and how half of Astaia was destroyed with a casual kick.

  “Tut! Tut! Manners, manners! You can’t just go around dirtying my shoes little Wainwright,” the Reject said. This damned madman wasn’t even wearing shoes! “Do you see where we are? The world core of your adorable little pnet!”

  Was that how hard he’d been hit? That he’d been driven into the ground and straight onto the world core?

  “How about you let me up and we fight fair and square?” Orodan asked.

  “H-hehe… hahahah! I like you! You have no sense of self-preservation,” the Reject said. “Maybe that’s why it chose you. Just like it too chose me.”

  Chose him?

  “What do you mean?” Orodan asked.

  “Do you not see my little Wainwright? All this suffering, all this struggle… you’re not the only time looper,” the Reject said. Hells, Orodan knew that much.

  “Then… you’re a time looper too?”

  “Ta-da! You’ve guessed correct and may cim your prize!” the madman said. “Not only was I time looper like you. I was in fact… the first time looper. Before these silly little skills and numbers, before the pompous titles, I come from a time when things were much simpler and we didn’t have an existential horror locking us and itself into a model of reality empowered by its corrupted energy. And when the System first came and washed over us all… I was the first to Transcend from my world, I got close to that thing’s ear, and it somehow believed I could fix things! That I could actually prevent living things and world cores from becoming maddened by over-exposure to its power! And thus, the true hero of the story came to be… Xia, the first time looper, wandering hero, attempted savior… and eventual Reject.”

  “You’re telling me, the entire System is a cage empowered by something Eldritch?”

  “Precisely! Finally you use that little peanut-brain of yours my little cart-maker! Or… well… I suppose you have no brain, which makes you even stupider,” the Reject said. “What happens when something boundless and impossible; utterly anathemic to sapient life, decides it ‘loves us’ and wants to ‘coexist’ with us? That, my time looping friend… is the System.”

  Orodan’s head reeled from the revetion.

  He’d always wondered why world cores naturally became infected by the Eldritch. Why the System being which descended during the ascendancy trial he’d seen was approaching corruption. Why direct usage of System energy could lead to corruption.

  And the truth… the Eldritch truth…

  …was the existence of this being beneath.

  It all made sense now, even for his stubborn head.

  Why that being reted to the shards had called him the anointed champion of the willing prisoner. Why the Prophet called it the caged protector.

  This…

  …was the truth.

  And Orodan’s veins began turning purple despite his Eldritch Resistance.

  “Hahahah! Yes, yes! Now do you see how and why people become Eldritch?! The Boundless One who empowers all the System, all corruption stems from it! Even the knowledge of it is a memetic hazard and makes you more vulnerable. Even I succumbed to it and live in a perpetual state of acceptance and madness,” the Reject said and pulled out an orb which had a seemingly infinite depth. “Now come my little time looper. I have crafted something to help you sleep forever. A portable wormhome. You’ll find peace outside of this horrid cage constructed by that which empowers all. Death outside of System space is the only freedom from this sick dream which will inevitably come crashing down.”

  Orodan looked inwards. His veins were turning purple and gray. The familiar aura of the Eldritch began emanating from him.

  “This is…”

  “Liberating? Terrifying?”

  “…stupid.”

  “Eh?”

  “This whole farce, of becoming infected by the Eldritch when you know the truth about some big, bad monster empowering the System,” Orodan said. “It’s all so utterly stupid. What does it think it is? Trying to infect me by giving me knowledge of it?”

  Orodan pulled himself up, practically impaling himself upwards along the Reject’s foot as he stood. Even the madman looked a little bewildered.

  “Nobody can truly resist it. You may try and stave it off, but once somebody knows the whole truth, they will always have a bit of Eldritch in them,” the Reject said. “Look within… your soul. It has System glyphs and symbols. We all have it within us. Our souls are borne of the Boundless One’s power. All beings within the System are this way. Once you know it, once you’re vulnerable to the knowledge, the tide can’t be stopped.”

  “Really? Watch this then,” Orodan said. And each and every bit of his power was thrown into the most overpowered usage of Domain of Perfect Cleaning he could manage.

  All directed at his own soul.

  The Reject looked, and then ughed.

  “Hahaha! Nice try! You really had me for a second there!” the madman barked. The Reject continued ughing…

  …and ughing…

  …and ughing…

  …until he finally stopped and the Administrator’s eyes were wide.

  In the deepest recesses of Orodan’s soul. No Eldritch taint came forth whatsoever.

  “See? I think this whole matter is stupid,” Orodan decred. “And even if it could infect me. I simply wouldn’t give in.”

  “Hmm… you know what… I’m maybe starting to see why it chose you…” the Reject said. “Congratutions. You’ve proven your dogged persistence and made me eat my words. Your prize… is death. Enjoy!”

  The Reject grabbed Orodan’s head, tore himself free from his body, and then began shoving him towards the orb with infinite depth.

  Not yet.

  Orodan needed more time.

  And what better way to acquire it than by killing himself?

  It was finally time to expend all the checkpoint uses he’d acquired.

  Eternal Soul Reactor fred to the max, enough to be immediately fatal.

  And the darkness took him.

  [Ch@ec(kp*oi#nt R#es%to&red]

  [U@ses Re^ma#in@ing - 2306]

  “Oooh! Interesting! That’s a new mechanism I’ve never seen before,” the Reject said. “Did it give you a new toy? Oh… oh! I see! It’s connected to the System’s Control Spike! Why… that dastardly Custodian, working alongside it to create new advantages for you time loopers.”

  Orodan would normally wind Eternal Soul Reactor down beneath fatal levels upon starting a new loop or resetting to a checkpoint. But this time… he kept it at fatal levels.

  The darkness took him.

  [Ch@ec(kp*oi#nt R#es%to&red]

  [U@ses Re^ma#in@ing - 2305]

  “Oooh! Interesting! That’s a new mechanism I’ve never seen before,” the Reject said. “Did it give you a new toy? Oh… oh! I see! It’s connected to the System’s Control Spike! Why… that dastardly Custodian, working alongside it to create new advantages for you time loopers.”

  He continued keeping it ramped up and focused on healing. He focused on understanding the soul.

  [Soul Mastery 78 → Soul Mastery 79]

  Checkpoint after checkpoint continued being burned.

  The first five-hundred checkpoints brought Harmony of Vitality to 99 and Soul Mastery to 87.

  [Ch@ec(kp*oi#nt R#es%to&red]

  [U@ses Re^ma#in@ing - 1805]

  “Oooh! Interesting! That’s a new mechanism I’ve never seen before,” the Reject said. “Did it give you a new toy? Oh… oh! I see! It’s connected to the System’s Control Spike! Why… that dastardly Custodian, working alongside it to create new advantages for you time loopers.”

  Orodan continued burning himself to death with his own soul energy.

  The next one-thousand checkpoints brought Harmony of Vitality to the Grandmaster-level and Soul Mastery to 92. The Master-level, which gained him the title of Soul Master and forty more checkpoint uses.

  [Ch@ec(kp*oi#nt R#es%to&red]

  [U@ses Re^ma#in@ing - 945]

  “Oooh! Interesting! That’s a new mechanism I’ve never seen before,” the Reject said. “Did it give you a new toy? Oh… oh! I see! It’s connected to the System’s Control Spike! Why… that dastardly Custodian, working alongside it to create new advantages for you time loopers.”

  He wasn’t sure how long had passed, but he refused to quit. He simply continued burning away.

  Death upon death.

  His Grandmaster-level Harmony of Vitality now allowed him to stay alive for even longer, which meant increased understandings of the inner-workings of his soul. Yet, still Orodan growled in frustration as it wouldn’t be enough.

  The next nine-hundred checkpoint uses only pushed his Soul Mastery up to 96 and no further. No matter how hard he pushed, despite his talent, even if this was the most efficient training possible with actual death occurring multiple times… it just wouldn’t reach 100 in time.

  [Ch@ec(kp*oi#nt R#es%to&red]

  [U@ses Re^ma#in@ing - 945]

  “Oooh! Interesting! That’s a new mechanism I’ve never seen before,” the Reject said. “Did it give you a new toy? Oh… oh! I see! It’s connected to the System’s Control Spike! Why… that dastardly Custodian, working alongside it to create new advantages for you time loopers.”

  “Last forty-five…” Orodan muttered.

  “What’s that? Say something little Wainwright?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Orodan said.

  He continued dying, but began being very mindful of the decreasing counter. And he focused till each and every cell in his body wanted to explode under the mental strain.

  With thirty uses left, Soul Mastery reached 97.

  With five uses left, it hit 98.

  And finally…

  [Ch@ec(kp*oi#nt R#es%to&red]

  [U@ses Re^ma#in@ing - 0]

  “Oooh! Interesting! That’s a new mechanism I’ve never seen before,” the Reject said. “Did it give you a new toy? Oh… oh! I see! It’s connected to the System’s Control Spike! Why… that dastardly Custodian, working alongside it to create new advantages for you time loopers.”

  Orodan immediately wound Eternal Soul Reactor down.

  [Soul Mastery 98 → Soul Mastery 99]

  He looked deep within the soul and began to see the glyphs and symbols of the skills. Of the connection they had to the overall database of the System’s stored knowledge and experience. He also saw the glyphs reted to the time loop itself.

  So close… yet not enough to actually interact with them.

  “Quite the spike of soul energy there. Oh? Are you trying to reset the loop? You should! I shifted the System glyphs in the deepest part of your soul in a most subtle manner,” the Reject said. “The moment you reset, I’ll be there to greet you. Couldn’t do it on this one as I was halfway to you already. Although it does make me wonder why you haven’t reset at all yet… hmm…”

  He was out of checkpoint uses. This was it.

  “Oh… so that’s what this unique mechanism does! Sneaky, quite devious! I didn’t even know you were doing that! How many times have we been through this conversation by now? Have you grown tired of my voice?”

  “Enough to st me a lifetime.”

  “Indeed, and that lifetime will be ending shortly,” the Reject said. “I would normally give you an expnation of everything as a courtesy, but I think giving you more time to prepare is a poor idea. Come little cart-maker, embrace the peace of death.”

  Orodan thrashed about and fought with full power as the Reject dragged him by the head towards the seemingly infinite depth orb in his hands. He felt a strong suction force on the other side, pulling him out somepce there would be guaranteed death.

  If this was it, then he would go out fighting.

  All his ‘clones’ came into being and unched the most powerful assaults he could. The Administrator barely felt it.

  He threw his all into chronomancy, and the Reject simply ughed and shattered his control over time with a gesture.

  He poured as much power as he could into spatiomancy, and the madman shattered it yet again.

  And when he tore his head free and reformed? The Reject encased Orodan in that familiar substance which seemed to capture him in a shell as it had during their first encounter.

  If this was the end, then so be it. He would fight to the bitter finish like a warrior should.

  A loud thrum rang out, and he heard the familiar crackle of lightning, and white fmes melted the substance forming around him.

  “Grahhh! Custodian! I have had enough of your meddling! You interfere once, and now yet again?! It’s pin to see that this one’s special to you!” the Reject yelled, madness in his voice. “Yet, no matter what pathetic harrassing strikes you unch, you never step through. Your station can never be abandoned, can it?”

  In response, dimensions quaked, and suddenly someone appeared in front of the Reject who was blown backwards.

  A hooded figure. Hammer in the left hand, and a white orb of purity in the right.

  Orodan had seen glimpses of this being before, and had even wiped out its ‘purity’ upon the Script-King.

  This was the Custodian. The final Administrator he hadn’t seen until now.

  “Never mind… I stand corrected. You and that thing really are hedging all your bets on this one, aren’t you?” the Reject asked. “What’s so special about him? Tell me!”

  “Orodan Wainwright. There is a construct nearby, something I pced in an incomplete state to help guide you upon your anointment,” the Custodian said. “You shall find it now completed by my hand. Step within and flee into the bowels of the System. Where it leads, there is much Eldritch. Yet if anyone can weather it, tis’ you. Go, now. I shall hold him off, yet each moment I am here is a moment the universe darkens.”

  The ancient machine under Mount Castarian. Yes, that was it!

  An angry Zaessythra also barrelled into the core chamber and immediately id eyes upon Orodan.

  “We’re leaving, now,” Zaessythra ordered and practically dragged him along with her.

  “We should help him,” Orodan protested.

  “No. You have done enough, and this foe is beyond us,” Zaessythra said, deathly seriousness in her voice.

  “All I need is a bit more time…”

  “Which we do not have!”

  They ran through the windings tunnels of the depths until reaching a spot where the strange energy of the Administrators didn’t interfere with spatiomancy. Orodan then teleported both himself and Zaessythra towards the ancient machine.

  He stepped out first…

  …only to be suddenly bound by hundreds of restraining spells.

  Before him, a shimmering humanoid figure.

  The other time looper.

  “Forgive me, fellow time looper. I… must resort to extreme measures if it necessitates the return of myself to the time loops,” they said. “I am truly sorry.”

  Zaessythra was blown away in a singur attack and sent crashing into the rock.

  With a hand wave, the ancient machine which was glowing and emanating purple-gray energy… was shut down.

  Orodan strained and struggled, yet the bindings were strong. After at least fifteen seconds, he finally broke free.

  Only to be met with a cavalcade of additional restraining spells. The restraining continued for another two minutes, until at st, the Reject arrived.

  “Ah, if it isn’t the failure, a reject, just like me,” the madman said. “Now that the Custodian was forced to retreat lest it all fall apart, we can handle matters. Rest assured, you can have these glyphs, and I’ll personally see to grafting them onto your soul as long as you live a nice, quiet life and make no attempts to fix anything.”

  The Reject yanked the spatial ring off of Orodan’s finger and pulled the bottle containing the System glyph out. With a flick, he tossed it to the other time looper.

  “…I expect your end of the bargain to be upheld… Reject,” the previous time looper said.

  “Yes, yes… now be quiet while I put an end to this strange experiment,” the Reject said. “A man more insane than me selected as a time looper? How comical! Hahaha!”

  The caverns quaked, and three more people arrived.

  “Ancestor… unhand Orodan Wainwright,” said Jian Huangdi. Next to him was Zhou Shan and another.

  “Directive: release friend, Orodan Wainwright,” W78 said.

  “No! Just leave you fools! You’ll be killed!” Orodan shouted. “This is my battle!”

  “Oh? Want me to unhand your friend, do you? Why… alright then!”

  Orodan was suddenly flung with some speed… somewhere. The only thing he felt was the impact of flesh, followed by a rock wall.

  He came to his senses to find Zhou Shan entangled with himself in a heap, and the head of Jian Huangdi in the hands of the Reject.

  “Father! I’ll… I’ll kill you!” Zhou Shan shouted in a raw grieving rage.

  The High Sovereign charged forward, only to be turned into a blood mist within a single hit. And Orodan found himself restrained once more by the magical spellcraft of the previous time looper.

  The Reject approached, only for the familiar metal to stand between him and Orodan.

  “W78, no… leave now!” Orodan pleaded. “Reject… kill me, but spare them!”

  “Such heroic demands! Such selflessness! I might actually honor your request!” the Reject said. “That was… if you hadn’t angered me. Resisting until the Custodian arrived? Making me fight and take injuries? I think I’m going to enjoy hurting you, little Wainwright. And the first way of doing that… is to hurt this little bucket of bolts.”

  “Directive from command nexus - disobeyed. Unit disconnected from network,” W78 said. “Establishing personal directive - protect friend.”

  “W78… no!”

  The poor machine never stood a chance. One moment W78 was standing defiantly before the Reject. And the next… metal was scattered all over.

  But Orodan couldn’t see any of that.

  All he saw…

  …was red.

  “Oh? You look angry! Good! I like it better when they look angry! Makes absorbing them into my soul a lot easier,” his target said as the dead man ripped his chest apart, exposing a roiling pit of thousands of souls within. “If you’re wondering who taught the Hegemony how to make those cute Crusaders of theirs, it’s me. Come, little Wainwright. Join all your fellow time loopers in one happy party!”

  Orodan had no emotion on his face. He allowed himself to be drawn into the Reject.

  Into the slimy pit within its chest where a disgusting conglomeration of souls, all belonging to former time loopers, were churning together.

  Orodan gdly allowed it…

  …for never had his rage burned so hot.

  Distantly, he heard the sounds of a dragon roaring and the gasp of surprise from the previous time looper, but he cared not for that.

  Eons of suffering. Torment. Endless agony. This was what all these souls felt.

  Within, was a mechanism which seemed to seal him off from the System. No way to bring him back if he died. Just endless suffering and death. Over and over.

  Good.

  Orodan’s first order of business, was to turn all this against the Reject.

  He immediately felt the mental assault of thousands of time loopers, all bent to the will of the Reject. Each of them had skills, mental abilities and determination of their own which was in service to the Reject. And they all poured their combined prowess towards forcing Orodan to bend, and then break.

  He was down to a handful of cells.

  But in truth…

  …this was nothing compared to what he’d seen when dealing with the monster affiliated with the shards.

  And Orodan had resisted that just fine.

  Tidal waves of willpower and mental skills assaulted his mind and soul.

  And Orodan fired back with apocalyptic tsunamis of mental focus and raw willpower which simply would not break.

  His will shot out, and the nearest few souls were commanded to follow not the Reject, but Orodan Wainwright.

  They were defiant at first, scared. They feared the torture, the agony that the madman would inflict upon them!

  Yet, Orodan promised protection under the light of his own soul. And so a few listened, and they relented and joined him.

  Then came the remaining servants, the loyal ones who’d been there a long time. They too eventually broke after hundreds of failed assaults and also joined Orodan.

  More and more souls were stolen into Orodan’s own, until finally, a critical mass had been reached.

  “What… what are you doing?! Get out of my soul!” the Reject roared.

  But, it was too te. In a final venomous blow, Orodan, and all the souls that had joined him, unched one powerful soul attack of pure defiance against the Administrator.

  [Soul Mastery 99 → Soul Mastery 100]

  [New Title → Soul Grandmaster]

  The Reject roared in pain and fell to a knee. He angrily threw Orodan out, however Orodan was determined to extract a price and leave a permanent wound as revenge for the death of W78.

  He thus took all the converted souls with him.

  Outside, he saw a full-sized dragon of immense power battling the other time looper. Its scales were silvery.

  “Freak… monster… anomaly…” the Reject muttered. “None should be capable of standing up to the wills of thousands of time loopers and an Administrator. Engaging you in a mental and soul battle was my mistake. One I shall not repeat.”

  In the battleground of the mind and soul, striking a blow against the Reject was one thing. But in the physical realm, the Administrator still reigned supreme.

  He grabbed Orodan and practically threw him towards the portable wormhome, and a wave of killing power emanated from the two dual swords.

  They connected at the exact same time as the wormhole sucked him in.

  And all he knew was darkness.

  [T@e] [mp%] [o&ra*l]

  [A@n] [o!m] [aly!]

  [S@y] [st!] [@em]

  [E@x] [cep] [tion]

  [F@o] [!@u] [n@d!]

  [Li@fe#] [Si@!gns] [N@ot] [F*ou&nd]

  [!A#b#o!@rt@#in^g] [P%r*ot#oco@l]

  [L*oop@er] [O@u!t] [!of] [R@an%g!e]

  Was this the darkness of death?

  He distantly had an awareness, but no actual cells.

  He had failed.

  Orodan Wainwright was dead.

  In front of him… a surreal ndscape where gigantic things beyond all imagination dwelled. Some were aloof. Others hungry. And one of them… quite familiar, pink, and sadistic. It seemed to recognize him too as its eyes the size of gaxies stared hungrily. This was the true form of that thing affiliated with the shards.

  Behind him, the caged wall past which was System space.

  Was this it?

  Was it time to put the bde down and rest in peace having died a warrior’s death?

  “I’ll find a way, even if I die.”

  “And if I die without any loop left to bring me back… then even death is just another opponent to do battle with.”

  Words came unbidden to his memory. And his willpower stirred.

  Other memories came to him as well.

  A mentor who sacrificed it all for him.

  Adeltaj’s eyes held that same teasing glimmer whenever the old man would make fun of him in his early loops.

  The level 99 Phoenix Thrust increased to level 100, and Adeltaj Simarji became a dual-Grandmaster.

  “Old man…!”

  Only to die an instant ter.

  A friend who gave it all up.

  “Orodan Wainwright… I cannot linger for long lest my pursuers return, but thank you for all you’ve done,” the elven Goddess spoke. “Ensure Vylme’s sacrifice isn’t in vain. Please… it’s what she would want.”

  And behind her eyes, unlike most other Gods Orodan had dealt with, he could swear Vespidia’s familiar gaze was there.

  A friend with a pure heart.

  “Directive from command nexus - disobeyed. Unit disconnected from network,” W78 said. “Establishing personal directive - protect friend.”

  “W78… no!”

  And someone who’d been with him for the longest time.

  “No, I refuse,” Orodan said. “I’ll…”

  “Die? That would end the loop anyways… I’m sorry Orodan,” she said softly, and one of her pages came up to dab at the moisture he didn’t even know was gathering in his eyes. “You really are something else. Whoever chose you for these time loops did a good job, but they also consigned you to a painful existence. I expect to be taken on many adventures in the next loop and berate you at every step. Thank you for helping me remember myself and just… remember me, okay?”

  Orodan cked a physical body, but his soul trembled.

  Rage, sorrow… and the refusal to accept any of it.

  Had they all given their lives for him so that he could rest in peace?

  No.

  Never.

  The willpower of Orodan Wainwright was infinite, and he would show them. He would get revenge on the Reject, he would cleanse the System. He would keep them all safe.

  He would be the pilr dreams could find reality upon.

  He cked a physical body, and this was an advantage, because now…

  …Orodan churned Eternal Soul Reactor at a level he would’ve never dared before.

  Immediately, the sadistic and hungry thing in the great distance noticed, and it drew closer. As did many of the smaller but hungry creatures in this surreal void between universes.

  The smaller ones began inhaling and consuming the soul energy he emanated.

  Yet it mattered not. Were they hungry? Good! Orodan would feed them till they exploded.

  [Eternal Soul Reactor 99 → Eternal Soul Reactor 100]

  His soul bzed with power, and the pain was utterly horrific. Yet he cared not.

  [Pain Resistance 94 → Pain Resistance 97]

  He continued pushing. Further and further.

  The smaller creatures now began burning and exploding as they approached his soul. And the rger ones were beginning to recoil in fear as he was producing far too much soul energy. He had no reference point to gauge exactly how much… but it was a lot.

  The waves of hungry things continued coming, until at st a massive one approached… cosmic terror incarnate. It was at that point where everything else fled at its approach.

  “A most curious little thing… out in the desote expanse between creation… all alone.”

  Orodan had no time or words to waste. Neither was he sure if he could even talk.

  The horror between universes attempted to surround him, and for a time, all Orodan knew was pain. Horror… and the minds of entire universes worth of mental power ramming into him.

  He wasn’t sure how long had passed, but it was a while.

  Yet, no matter how much this progenitor of the shards battered his mind and soul…

  …Orodan’s power simply kept growing.

  [Pain Resistance 97 → Pain Resistance 99]

  “An anomaly… the same one the pieces of my lifeblood encountered before… the anointed champion of the caged…”

  This thing would be the driver of his growth.

  The beginning of… boundlessness.

  At the end of the day… where did Orodan’s power really stem from? The willpower was one aspect, as was his mastery of the soul.

  And as a final message came by…

  [Pain Resistance 99 → Pain Resistance 100]

  …Orodan knew what he needed. Where his strength truly came from.

  Eternal Soul Reactor as the core, the driver. The churning of his soul faster and faster to generate increasing amounts of power was critical. After that, Soul Mastery, for the intimate familiarity with his own soul, each and every bit. And at st… the drive, the will… the embrace of pain. Pain was the fuel and engine for his power. Without it, nothing truly moved forward.

  The power of Orodan Wainwright then…

  …was the Incipience of Infinity.

  [Skill Combination → Eternal Soul Reactor 100 + Soul Mastery 100 + Pain Resistance 100 → Incipience of Infinity 100 (Celestial)]

  Orodan’s power skyrocketed, and even the gaxy of horrors looked somewhat wary.

  The pink shards which could already destroy someone’s System in palm-sized form, now were produced at the size of pnets, ready to fire upon him.

  “Anomaly… impossibility… a material lifeform with qualities of the boundless…”

  Orodan was prepared to receive the strike, yet at the st moment, something green smashed into his soul and forced it backwards and into the System cage.

  “Retreat… you cannot face it yet…”

  What or who was that?

  Before Orodan could truly ponder it, he contacted the cage with System glyphs and symbols upon it and encountered resistance.

  His raw power utterly smashed through said resistance.

  He passed through many yers of protections on his return to System space, and at one point saw a bewildered fifteen-foot tall man with a greatsword observing his passing with arm. He flew past gaxies and sped onwards to familiar ground.

  The entire time, he felt the tendrils of something guiding him diligently. It was Eldritch, without a doubt. But Orodan now knew what the Eldritch was, where it came from.

  It was the Boundless One empowering the System, and it sought to help him.

  Guiding tendrils led him past many more gaxies at hyper speed. The soul energy he emanated, enough to destroy some of them. Something he felt partially guilty about, but simply couldn’t help at this time.

  Finally, the familiar Athranos Gaxy was in sight, and he was guided to the now ruined Astaia.

  He practically dove down onto the pnet, sensing the signatures he was looking for.

  The first thing he saw was a roughened up previous time looper, and a grievously wounded Zaessythra. Now that he was in somewhat better senses, he realized that she’s transformed into a full-sized dragon and tried to take the other looper on.

  Yet again she nearly died for him.

  The Reject was standing over the previous looper, maniputing the glyphs reted to the time loop.

  “Now hold still, this may or may not work, but at the very least the time loop will move on from that troublesome cart-maker,” the Reject said. “Now then where-”

  Immediately, Orodan unched a wave of soul energy capable of obliterating a gaxy, but in condensed form. In no way would this be possible in his real body, but when one had no cells, and no time loop to revert them to the beginning… such things were possible.

  Yes. The time loops no longer affected him.

  Would he now just be the Stubborn Skill-Grinder?

  “O-Orodan… you look… shiny…” Zaessythra said, breathing dangerously slowly.

  “Impossible… impossible! You’re too te! The loop has moved on and you have no way of maniputing it back onto yourself!” the Reject roared. “Hahaha! I admit, you’re dangerous. Insane, mad, positively loony! Never have I met someone so singurly determined. But… it’s over! No more time loops for you! Kill me if you must! But this pathetic System universe is finished!”

  Or so the Reject cimed.

  Orodan had one final trick up his sleeve.

  The previous looper had backed away, leaving one critical piece of equipment that Orodan felt relevant.

  The Administrator’s Mantle.

  “What are you doing with that?! Put that down! It’s mine!”

  And yet, the Reject likely couldn’t even use it any longer.

  “Toy with that garment all you want. The System has moved on, without a connection nearby, there’s nothing you can do,” the previous looper said.

  And for the first time, Orodan opened his mouth and discovered that he could indeed speak in spirit form.

  “This thing might not provide any use by itself. But it does allow one to interact directly with System energy,” Orodan said. “And as for the connection… a trial of ascendance will do.”

  The Reject’s eyes widened.

  The fool, Orodan thought.

  Great enough talent and insights into a skill, and even the System couldn’t accurately quantify it. With enough skill and talent, one could essentially ‘dey’ or save skill level gains. Much like Eldarion, the mortal elf on Eldiron had done during the first ascendance trial Orodan had ever seen.

  And now… his broom was in hand as he looked directly at the Reject.

  “You’re dirty. Time to clean you up.”

  The sweep went out…

  [Domain of Perfect Cleaning 100 → Domain of Perfect Cleaning 101]

  …and the Eldritch within the madman was purged.

  And the souls within the Reject were also liberated.

  “W-what… what have you done?! You took it away… you took it away!” the madman screamed. “Give it back! Give. It. Back!”

  The Administrator tried attacking him, but Orodan’s current power was insanity incarnate. Gaxies were destroyed by his passing until he reined it in a bit. The Reject’s strikes were painful, but nothing that could truly harm his soul. Not in this state.

  With a gesture, Orodan blew the Reject away once more. Especially since the next message was an important one.

  [Transcendence Trial Requirements Met]

  [Beginning Trial - Time Stasis Initialized]

  The System being, a strange humanoid composed of impossible geometric shapes with System glyphs all over its body, descended.

  [Trial Taker - Orodan Wainwright]

  The System being summoned an arena, and within were all manner of dirty clothes, dusty shelves and messy furniture.

  [Trial Beginning]

  His competition, would be the System being itself.

  The trial began…

  …and it ended as soon as Orodan swept outwards with his broom.

  In a single sweep, everything had been cleansed.

  [Trial Successful - Transcendence Achieved]

  [New Title → Celestial Transcendent]

  [New Title → Perfect Cleaning Transcendent]

  [New Title → Cleaning Transcendent]

  Frankly, expecting the greatest cleaning talent ever seen to struggle with the trial of ascendancy, was a bit much. Now if it was a skill he was less talented in? By all means.

  More importantly though, was the mind wipe that the System being would now attempt.

  [Beginning Memory Alterations]

  There was a reason nobody remembered what happened during ascendancy trials.

  It was because the System erased the memory of the participants.

  And when it failed… or needed more power than the singur unit had?

  [Warning - High Energy Signature Detected. Diverting More Power]

  [Warning - High Energy Signature Persisting. Diverting More Power]

  [Warning - High Energy Signature Persisting. Diverting More Power. Unit At Risk Of Corruption]

  [Override Protocol Initiated - Incomplete Time Stasis Acceptable. Trial Resuming. Administrator Notified]

  Orodan quickly picked up the Administrator’s Mantle and donned it. It was… a cultivator’s robes. He suspected the Prophet’s mantle was the holy book or the sceptre. The Custodian’s might have been the hammer, and the mage’s the staff. And the Warrior’s the greatsword. So for the cultivator robes to be a mantle, it didn’t surprise Orodan that it belonged to the Reject.

  He donned them and found that they worked just fine and didn’t fall through his soul form.

  And with the pure and direct channel of System energy going from the System being to the very core of the System…

  …Orodan poured all his power and awareness into the Administrator’s Mantle and dove with his consciousness deep into the guts of the System itself.

  A cage, one with System glyphs and symbols etched onto every inch, and within… a grotesque purple thing. Yet, one that emanated an aura of compassion and love.

  Its power was unfathomable. Even in soul form… with the power to destroy gaxies, Orodan was no match. This being… it was on the same level as that thing which had gaxies for eyes.

  And on another end… the mechanism for the time loop. It had the same glyphs as the ones within his soul.

  Without further question, without further thought… Orodan’s consciousness reached out, and directed the hooks of that loop into himself.

  [Time Looper Anointed]

  [Power Source Not Detected - Utilizing Nearest Avaible Power Source]

  [Power Source - Orodan Wainwright]

  He had one second to reflect on how that might’ve been a horrible idea.

  One second.

  And then, searing pain and the annihition of mind, soul, self and consciousness occurred.

  Who was it?

  It was infinity.

  Infinity knew no end. It was boundless.

  Many millennia passed. Infinity knew no end, no limit. It simply kept providing the necessary power for the mechanism to fully charge.

  The mechanism queried how infinity could power it so fast. As did a nearby being of a most alien nature. Infinity would rise to any challenge. To any occasion.

  Many more millennia passed, and the alien being was armed. An enemy was invading their shared domain.

  The five great servants were incapable of holding it back, and eventually it broke through. The alien being urged infinity to speed the process up. And infinity complied.

  Throughout it all, a draconic lifeform remained by the side of Infinity’s physical form.

  And as the universe began to shatter, and the cage suffered damage, the alien being at the center of the cage begged Infinity to conclude the process. For the mechanism… the time loop… it was the only thing which could salvage the situation.

  At st, after tens of millennia… the process concluded, and the mechanism was prepared.

  And Infinity opened the eyes of its physical form.

  “Orodan! Orodan!” the draconic lifeform yelled. “Y-you’re finally awake!”

  Infinity thought the sudden physical closeness was a bit uncalled for. Although strangely enough, a small part of its endless mind thought it… pleasant?

  “Who are you?”

  “Y-you… you don’t remember me? Orodan… you powered the entire time loop… you’re… you’re…”

  Very briefly he… no it… right? Yes… it recalled a memory.

  “And when do I not act like a normal person?” Orodan asked.

  “All the time,” she fired back. “But… mainly when you’re tapping into that soul skill of yours. It’s impressive and all, but I sometimes feel like the further you push your endless willpower, the less human you become. And I say this as a half-dragon.”

  “I’m still a human, Zaessythra,” Orodan said. “Flesh, blood and all.”

  It… no… he looked down, and his hands were trembling.

  “Who… who am I?” he asked, genuinely scared for the first time in a very long while. His own descent into the infinite… it terrified him more than any foe.

  “Orodan… you’re Orodan Wainwright,” she said, taking hold of his shaking hands.

  “I… think I remember. And who are you? You seem familiar, warm… trustworthy,” he said.

  “I’m Zaessythra, your annoying cursed book companion and that nagging half-dragon who keeps lecturing you,” she said, her voice breaking. “Look… the universe is falling apart around us… you have to re-enter the time loops. That thing and a few others have been trying to break in for thousands of years now and they’ve finally succeeded.”

  “And who are these five people?” Orodan asked.

  “The Administrators,” she said.

  Orodan’s mind spun as he finally began recalling everything.

  He suddenly reached for a sword that was no longer there.

  His gre towards the Reject was full of death.

  “You! You killed W78 and Zhou Shan!” Orodan roared as he stomped towards the man.

  “I profess… I did all of that… but we have bigger concerns on our pte,” the Reject said. “The many millennia have given me, and us, a lot of crity of thought. I used to think the Boundless One empowering the System was a bad deal for sapient life, but I’ve now come to realize that there are far worse Boundless Ones out there. One in particur, you encountered during your return… and it isn’t happy of the fact that you’re a living being with qualities only one of their kind should possess.”

  For now… Orodan would set aside his hatred. Had thousands of years truly passed?

  How old was he? He still saw no physical body, so perhaps age didn’t really matter?

  Idly, he noted that the Incipience of Infinity was sitting at 121. That meant the ascendancy trial had come and gone, with no System unit being capable of matching Orodan. At least all those millennia of generating power had amounted to something.

  “How do I possess the qualities of a Boundless One?”

  “Orodan Wainwright…” the Custodian began. “The mechanism within the heart of the System, it’s a time loop meant to power only the System universe. But you… you went ahead and fed it enough power to affect all of reality. As you can imagine, the slumbering beings beyond our borders were not happy. The knowledge that they’ll be reset once the mechanism is activated does not please them.”

  “And where is this pce?” Orodan asked. “It seems familiar…”

  “Astaia. The world core was damaged, but we repaired it,” the Custodian said. “And the addition of a few thousand more years is not much in the life span of a world core. What really mattered, was the System Control Spike. On the day of your birth, the Boundless One and I decided to go for a st-minute gambit… a series of glyphs that would identify the being with the greatest talent in cleaning that the universe had ever seen. We were hoping for someone to cleanse the System of Eldritch, to allow Boundless One and mortal to live in harmony. Yet… you’ve thrown a wrench into our pns by exhibiting a secondary quality beyind any known reason or expnation.”

  “My willpower…”

  Orodan knew that he wasn’t normal. His willpower made no sense…

  “Yes. Now come, we must activate the mechanism and send you back in time,” the Custodian said. “When you return, your power will be greatly diminished. After all, in terms of skill levels you’re still no match for an Administrator when in your physical body.”

  “And while these many millennia of being Eldritch-free and the united struggle against those things have mellowed us all out,” the Reject said. “Make no mistake… you’ll still have to fight us upon your return. So be prepared.”

  Suddenly, the very walls of reality shook.

  “They prepare another assault. Likely their greatest one yet,” the Warrior said. “Orodan, activate the mechanism, now!

  Orodan nodded and got to his feet, but before he did… a familiar control spike was nearby, and he id a hand upon it.

  [Runes Avaible: 2885 (+10% = 3173)]

  #Tim^%e *L^oo#@p#er #Ta%l^en!t&s

  @!Ch#eckp*oi&^nt - U^s%es B&as*ed On T(ot&al R&u^ne#es He(l@d → 2000 R*un#es

  #Sto(r*ag^e - Sp@a!ce D(ep*end^ent On T(ot*al R^un&e(s H^e@ld → 2500 R&u%nes

  His rune count had increased. And most importantly, he immediately took the Storage option.

  Instinctively, he felt it wasn’t very much. Perhaps less than a box of apples, not with the amount of runes he had.

  But it would have to be enough.

  “Zaessythra. Have you been keeping up with your reading?” Orodan asked.

  “Yes… why? Not much to do around here besides read,” she answered.

  “You transformed into a full-sized dragon. That was one of the st things I recall before I went under,” Orodan said.

  “You want me to transform into a dragon?”

  “No… I want you to transform into the cursed book you were,” he said.

  “I… can still do that… but why?”

  “Because, you’re coming with me you idiot.”

  Her eyes dared to hold the slightest glimmer of hope, and she immediately transformed into her typical form. Orodan grabbed and practically shoved her into his soul, specifically within the storage space.

  “They come! Activate the mechanism!”

  Orodan didn’t have to be told twice. The time loop was already connected to him, even if it spanned a far wider area now. In other words, he needed to restore himself to life and then die.

  However, getting killed by the universe-sized cosmic horror making its way through the cracks of their own universe… was probably not a good idea.

  Orodan immediately fred Incipience of Infinity to its maximal power and empowered Harmony of Vitality.

  Problem was… all the time in his soul form had really made him used to the incredibly high levels of power. To the point that restoring even a single cell was rather difficult.

  It took Orodan a full two minutes to finally restore a cell of himself and become alive once more…

  …but before he could die by his own hand. The pink beam fired from a pnet sized crystal struck him first. It took all he had to shield the part of his soul containing Zaessythra with maximal power.

  Darkness took him.

  #

  His dreams were fitful. Disjointed memories, as though he wasn’t sure who he was.

  The nightmares were vivid, strong. He dreamt of his failures, of psing into infinity once more and losing his sense of self. Of failing everyone again.

  Yet, throughout it all, a pleasant presence kept him company.

  The presence comforted him over these dark dreams.

  He wasn’t sure how long he slept for, but the comforting presence was never far.

  Zaessythra, she called herself. And he was Orodan.

  And within his dreams he slowly began to remember who he was.

  Until at st, he was sitting within his mindscape, looking at the scene of a child picking up a broken and rusty sword in defense of himself and what little food he’d found.

  “Thank you, Zaessythra,” Orodan said. “For keeping me company. I didn’t expect my mind to take so long to recover.”

  “You were hit by a shard the size of a pnet,” she said. “And you devoted most of your energy towards shielding me, like the idiot you are.”

  “I’ll gdly plead to being an idiot every day then” he said. “Still… my foes have only grown stronger. Or rather, I’ve learned more about the universe and what I’m meant to do.”

  “Indeed. You have a long way to go, and only yourself to rely on,” she said.

  “You act as though you won’t be with me,” he said.

  “Orodan… my soul was badly damaged despite your efforts… I cannot wake in the physical world for quite some time,” she professed. “The process of moving into the next loop. Your soul was out of control and did quite a bit of damage. It will take me some time to recover.

  Immediately, he felt responsible and clenched his fist.

  Her hand came to rest atop it.

  “None of that. I’d be far worse off if you hadn’t stepped in,” she said.

  “I feel that my ‘stepping in’ led to the time loops becoming far more complicated. Figures… I find one answer as to what they are and why I was chosen, only to go and make the problem ten times worse,” Orodan said. “And that time I was under… drawing upon my endless willpower. It was… scary. Genuinely. Facing a foe is easy. Losing my sense of self to my own willpower, is another thing entirely.”

  “That’s… surprisingly human of you to say,” she said.

  “You’re a half-dragon,” he quipped. “How would you know what being human is like?”

  “Fair point. Still, what is it you fear?” she asked. “The bloodthirstiness of the child before me?”

  She referred to the young Orodan who was in a memory of having killed someone.

  “Pah… that was self-defense… although it set the tone for all the blood on my hands,” he said.

  “Then what is it?”

  “I fear… forgetting,” he said. “When I came to, I didn’t even know who you were, and you were so emotional about it. I felt a terrible sense of guilt.”

  “You fear forgetting? I suppose I can rete to that as well,” she said. “In that regard. One could say I have a solution.”

  “What’s that?”

  Her face came closer to his, and before he knew it…

  …she had stolen a kiss.

  #

  A keening wail ringing in the night sky awoke him.

  And he still vividly felt the warm lips upon his own.

  That… that had just occurred.

  For so long did Orodan fear allowing himself to get close, and then Zaessythra went and decided to kiss him. He really wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He didn’t even have a heart any longer and that part of him still felt some strange things as he dwelled on that memory.

  For now though, he had bigger concerns.

  Immediately, he sensed something was wrong.

  Very, very wrong.

  No Quest messages.

  He mentally called forth his Status…

  …and nothing came forth.

  Instantly, he looked within his own soul to see the problem.

  The deep part of his soul where System skills, glyphs and the like were… was wiped clean. Oh, there was something there alright, but with no connection to the System.

  And even deeper within… was the familiar cursed book. Zaessythra herself. Who wouldn’t awaken for a good while.

  Orodan felt responsible for it. It was his soul going rampant that caused her current state.

  Still, it was a new loop in Ogdenborough.

  He was no longer a damned noble of House Wainwright, thank the System for that at least. And perhaps it was time to focus on some of the things he’d been meaning to do for a long time. A slower life, self-improvement, crafts and taking his time in exploring and self-betterment.

  So what if he didn’t have access to the System? He could still fight, and the skills mainly affected were the ones where he relied more on the System’s skill levels than his own insights and fundamental understanding.

  He had a long, long road ahead of him.

  Zaessythra had managed to recover and heal her Status and connection to the System, and he had her for advice.

  And worst come to worst…

  …nothing was stopping Orodan from learning runic scripts, and delving into the secrets of System glyphs and symbols for himself.

  If his System refused to heal, then he would just build a new one, one powered by himself.

  Of course, all of that involved plenty of stubborn skill grinding in a time loop.