Chapter 532 - In the middle of the ocean

“I have a skill called [Empyrean Lance]. Do you know something about it?” I ask Kyralon while sitting on the ground with my legs crossed.

On my lap, Fracture is in its cracked sheath, and that dangerous energy is partially leaking through. It’s wrapped in my mana to somewhat slow it down, but without proper materials, I don’t think I can fix it much.

Plus, my right arm doesn’t help. Sure, as it happened plenty of times before, I can surround it with weaved mana and move it easily, but it still requires a bit of effort, and it’s annoying how slowly it heals. It’s not caused by my passive alone; the wounds inflicted by Fracture are always like that.

“Fascinating. Skills with ‘Empyrean’ in the name should be nearly impossible to gain naturally. You must have acquired it either by combining powerful skills or maybe through a Primary class upgrade.”

“Primary class upgrade.”

“That means your class must be something special. As for the exact skill you mentioned, I have never heard of it. I can’t tell you about other skills or their owners, as silence binds me in the same way it does with your answers.”

“What can you tell me?”

“Anything with ‘Empyrean’ in its name is very old, from times even before any of the current Rulers were alive.”

“Old doesn’t mean strong or useful.”

“I disagree here, and I will tell you why. The system itself also gradually changes as time passes. It shifts in reaction to how people use it—to avoid abuse and to better fit its role. Empyrean skills originate from an era when the system functioned differently, meaning the system and anything connected to it may react in ways that differ from modern skills.”

“Answer and then more questions, right?”

“That’s how it goes.” The huge velnar smiles at me. “Even though its function might appear limited by its name and not as versatile, you should never underestimate a specialized skill like that, especially with ‘Empyrean’ in the name. I know my answer might be lacking because of the vows I’ve made, so I will expand on it. I’ve met people who had such skills which seemed limited by their meaning. For example, there was a man with a skill simply called [Sword]. He was one of the most terrifying individuals I’ve ever encountered.”

“Absolute Kyralon.”

“Yes?”

“I honestly love and hate the way you answer my questions, and I know you do it on purpose.”

He seems surprised for a moment, but then only nods, his smile becoming a bit more genuine instead of just his facial muscles twisting into a grin.

“I do enjoy it,” he confirms.

***

Another hundred questions later, I ask again.

“What is the maximal skill level?”

Kyralon pauses from where he stands, near the black wood shelves full of mana stones, and scratches his beard. For a moment, his black eyes—lacking pupils, yet filled with stars—turn toward me.

Without pupils, it’s hard to say exactly where he’s looking.

“I think I can answer this one. It’s rumored to be level 100, with only a few Rulers having level 99 skills, and the remaining ones at least level 98. Absolutes usually have skills around level 90. Champions start around level 80. After level 50, it becomes difficult to level them further. After level 60, it’s even harder, and it continues in that manner.”

“I had someone telling me to never level my skill to 99.”

“On the first floor, or during Beyond trials?”

“Ehm, yes.”

“Then it must have been the Ruler of Envy. He likes to do that.”

“But why? If level 99 is the level of Rulers, why would he say that? The chance of any newcomer reaching that is pretty low.”

“That’s just how he is, but don’t underestimate the impact of words spoken by someone truly powerful to someone new to the system. Even if you don’t notice it, they often leave a lasting effect. A scene like that tends to stay with you, subconsciously making you hold back. Even the slightest hesitation could be enough to stop you from breaking through from level 98 to 99, simply because advancing is that difficult.”

“That’s stupid.”

“So, you don’t believe me?”

“I don’t think you’re lying or anything. I just can’t see it working.”

“That’s not all he does—he builds on these moments. Whether you see him as pathetic or weak doesn’t matter. Never underestimate someone with the title of Ruler. Anyone who has reached that level has survived countless dangers and stands among the most powerful beings in the system. Now, show me that sword.”

That request catches me off guard a bit, but I don’t hesitate long and hand him Fracture. He takes it into his massive hands. To him, my short sword looks almost like a dagger, which is kind of comical. Kyralon examines it, and the longer he does so, the wider his smile grows. A few times, he even shakes his head, and I hear him snort.

After that, he returns it to me, and I inspect it.

Nothing has changed.

“What was that about? You didn’t do anything to it,” I remark.

“I did not. I wanted to confirm something.”

“I swear everyone with some power likes to act so fucking mysterious all the time.”

He doesn’t reply again and only nods.

***

We stop mid-answers, and I leave to go to my usual spot outside of the tower on the stairs—well, slightly lower now—so I have access to my mana. Only then do I appear in my mind space.

This time, we’re in the middle of the ocean, not a single island or patch of land in sight. The sky is clear, but the waves are dark and rocking the boat we’re on. Instead of just a single boat, there are a dozen aircraft carriers. One of those huge aircraft carriers that requires six thousand people to operate stands under my feet. Its deck, from where jets typically take off, is empty on this one, and Whitey is standing right in the middle wearing that simple greenish camouflage uniform and heavy black boots.

“You really are enjoying it,” I note, stopping in front of him.

I’m also wearing clothes similar to his, and it must be quite a combination: me with my mana crown floating over my head and Whitey with his white hair, red eyes, and horns.

“I got stuck in a shitty human’s mind, so this is the best I can do to entertain myself,” he says, his smile and tone slightly different from the day before. The mood around him feels more threatening.

It’s not hard for me to understand why. By now, it’s safe to say I might know Whitey better than he knows himself, and he knows me in a similar way. Other than certain memories we keep private, we can peek into almost everything.

I take a few steps back, remove the heavy black shoes, and kick them away, standing there barefoot. I roll up my shirt sleeves.

Whitey does something similar, tearing one of his sleeves and using it to tie his long white hair. There’s something deliberate about the way he does it.

A breeze sweeps across the empty deck, carrying the scent of salt and steel. Beneath my feet, the aircraft carrier shifts slightly with the waves, but all I feel is the steady rhythm of Whitey’s heartbeat, a low, pulsing vibration through the metal.

I shift my weight, testing my footing on the deck. Whitey tightens the knot in his hair.

Then it starts.

Unlike before, I don’t reach for my kinetic energy. No, this time I allow mana to flow through my body. I ensure all of my passives are active and slightly change the setting on my Mana Regulator. Mana Wavelength Iris activates right away.

Whitey vanishes, and I use Wraith Dance to shift out of the way as the air itself trembles under his attack.

A Barrier forms around me, one I’m sure can stop Needle Point.

I’m wrong.

Needle Point pierces it, this time as thin as an actual needle, stabbing through my chest, followed by a dozen more attacks, before I can move away with that unpredictable movement he taught me.

[Ley Line] stretches away, then more threads appear. Mana weaves around me, forming armor, with a few Ley Lines added to the mix.

Whitey reappears in front of me, his face nearly touching mine. His red eyes look big, unblinking, and wide open, and his mouth forms a wild smile.

He punches me in the chest. The armor absorbs some of the blow, [Redistribution] handles more, and my passive also reduces the impact. Even so, a wisp of kinetic energy reaches my heart, causing a tear in it.

My mana radiates from my body, pushing Whitey away.

[Empyrean Lance] weaves into existence, a prismatic light trailing it as it moves with incredible speed, stabbing past Whitey’s side. His attempt to hold it in place with kinetic energy fails.

The array I was testing deploys, and my armor expands, growing until I’m three times my height, towering over the white-haired demon. All that mana floods through my body and the armor, making it more dense, the threads weaving together. Part of my mind takes over as the world turns black and white, with only mana retaining its color.

I stomp toward Whitey, but he sidesteps, missing him by a hair’s breadth. Standing near my leg, he chuckles and punches it, channeling an insane amount of kinetic energy into the blow. It deals no damage, so I grab that energy, redirect it, and stomp again, releasing everything. The surface of the aircraft carrier’s deck explodes.

Chunks of the runway freeze in midair as Whitey deploys his field, jumping up, locating my body, and punching the armor directly above it.

I feel my body shake, and he punches again, shifting how he uses his kinetic energy.

Using a huge amount of my mana, I boost my [Redistribution], and his body halts in midair.

My armor bursts open, transforming into dozens of limbs that I manipulate with [Mana Domain]. All of them reach toward him while I create another [Empyrean Lance].

Even though he doesn’t stop completely, he slows my mana-arms, just like during our previous fights.

I move quickly as Needle Point’s attack trails after me, piercing needle-thin holes into the carrier’s surface.

Whitey breaks through my hold and moves again, dodging all those arms in a way that would dizzy anyone else. He lands on the surface and charges, each burst of his speed expertly conserving kinetic energy.

We both switch to Breaker Style. Our palms meet, and an explosion of kinetic force hurls us apart. The aircraft carrier cracks and starts rocking in the sea more violently than the waves alone would cause.

As I pull my mana back to me, Whitey leaps into the air and then boosts himself, running across the surface of the sea. The area around him becomes as calm as a windless lake, with that immense kinetic energy coursing through him instead of the waves.

I fly into the air, weaving dozens of mana javelins and boosting them with kinetic energy. Each one thunders with a sonic boom as I launch them, tracking him and piercing the water around him. Then I compress them, turning the javelins tricolored, and fire them the same way. Now they explode, unleashing shockwaves, heat, and pressure, tearing apart the calm surface.

Yet he manages to boost himself each time, moving so quickly it’s almost like teleportation. Whitey lands on the surface of another aircraft carrier that begins to shake as my tricolored javelins continue to rip it apart.

I fire off the [Empyrean Lance] I’ve been compressing, sending it ahead even faster than the javelins. It pierces the ship in front of him, slicing through the entire length of the carrier as if it were nothing, leaving torn metal behind. Beneath the carrier, it explodes, and the flickering field it releases seeps into the air, the explosion alone rocks the aircraft carrier and sends a huge ripple through the sea.

Another javelin streaks past, trailing [Ley Line] behind it. The moment it strikes the ship, I manipulate the javelin and force the [Ley Line] to materialize. A shimmering, pale-blue thread drops toward the water, cutting through the ship like a hot knife through butter, splitting the carrier in two.

Both halves of the vessel tilt and sink beneath the sea, sending a towering geyser of water into the air. The water halts midair, and I sense a shockwave rippling from there.

My armor surrounds me once more, just in time for Whitey to reach me. Three consecutive strikes destroy my barrier and armor. I barely block the last hit. I open my hand and let a destabilized orb drop. It explodes immediately, and I teleport away, appearing on the deck of one of the remaining ships.

A white blur rushes out of the explosion, and Whitey lands near me without creating a single shockwave. There are only a few burns on his clothes, and his tied-up hair is slightly messy. His heart is pounding excitedly, and he doesn’t bother hiding it.

Whitey’s grin widens as he takes slow, confident steps toward me, kinetic energy swirling around him in a clear challenge.

A short laugh escapes me. Fine—if he wants to see more, I won’t hold back.

The half-ruined deck beneath my feet groans in protest as I brace myself, mana crackling through my veins.

***

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