SIS B5: Chapter 2: Skill Upgrade and Old Meets New

"S'been a while since yer last visit, buddy," Cecil said as he yawned.

Daz nodded stoically as he got his bearings. The graveyard seemed mistier than normal, but otherwise, it was the same as he recalled it being.

"I've been spending a lot of time training my internal energy and my Embers, as of late. Sorry for not coming to the dreamscape more often," Daz apologised.

Cecil shrugged as he adjusted his position atop the gravestone he was perched upon. "Doesn't bother me too much. Ye here te chat or ye here te learn? Yer Grave of the Mammals could always use some work. There's a long road ahead o' ya before it becomes the Grave of the Gods."

"Both?" Daz asked. "I have time."

Cecil raised an eyebrow. "Sure. Well then, tell us what ye've been up te as o' late then, ah suppose."

Daz held his chin. "For a start, I defeated the Truthians..."

An hour passed before Daz was finally finished recounting the events of his life and kingdom that had come and gone since the last time he had paid the dreamscape a visit.

Cecil stroked his unkempt and heavily greying beard thoughtfully. "A door of 10,000's Curse of Loneliness and a peak existence evolving under yer rule... Sounds te me like ye could up an take control o' yer world in a matter o' weeks, if not days. Just crush everyone who opposes ye."

Daz shook his head as he took in all of Cecil southern accent. "No, I don't want to kill anyone who doesn't have to die. Earth has already lost over 90% of its people either to the system or to each other. I'll do it peacefully where I can. Everyone still alive is strong in some way. I need everyone for when we join the system."

A sad look entered Cecil eyes as he shrugged. "Ah do wonder about that. Anyhoo, it's yer world, not mine. Still, ye've got some massive balls on ye te just go an' blow up a Reliquary of Aren with a fuckin' Star o' Eternity."

"Reliquary? Is that what that place was?" Daz asked, his curiosity having been roused.

He wasn't surprised about him knowing of the star, though. Daz suspected every player worth their salt knew of those obscenely valuable and rare items.

"Probably, an' nah, ah can't tell ye jack all about it. Ye know a lot for a host, but even as old an' wise as ah am, ah can't tell ye what the system dun't want me te," Cecil said helplessly.

"Fair enough." Daz cracked his neck and summoned Hamson. "That being the case, unless you have any more opinions to share, let's get to the training, shall we?"

Cecil slowly got off of the gravestone he was on, all the while complaining about his back. "Ah do have one last piece o' advice."

"Oh? I'm all ears," Daz replied.

"Good, good," Cecil said.

He then winced as he snapped his back into place. "Ah swear, fucker gets worse an' worse by the century."

"... Your advice?" Daz questioned to which he got a gummy smile in response.

"Right. Well, even if ye'r being peaceful, ah doubt it'll take you more than a couple o' months te gain control of yer home planet. Ye'r easily one the strongest people out there who isn't a peak existence. With that curse, maybe even stronger. Still, ah suggest ye think very carefully about what ye use the El Doradian altar on in the coming months. It may prove more important than ye think," Cecil said cryptically.

Daz frowned deeply. "What the fuck does that mean?"

Cecil shook his head. "Sorry, buddy. Ah've said what ah can. Shoot, even the big man upstairs can't say more than ah just did. Just know that ah'm rootin' fer ya, yeh?"

***

Daz got no further answers out of the old Gravedigger. In fact, the old man with back issues barely said a word after that discussion, simply choosing to train Daz faithfully until he left the dreamscape.

He did, however, finally give him permission to upgrade the skill: Grave of the Mammals.

[Grave of the Behemoth [B-Rank (Middle Tier)]

Description
A skill self-developed by the young Archreaper of Earth, Daz.

He had witnessed a far superior version of this skill, and through great aptitude and willpower, was able to recreate a much, much weaker version of the skill that his body was capable of handling.

Through rigorous training and mentoring, Daz managed to gain some mastery over the essence of this skill not only once, but twice.

Why you still bother with this skill at all baffles me. It's just so... useless to the current you? Whatever, you keep doing you, I guess.

Level
1

Abilities
Allows the host to use his patron god's energy to create a grave. There is no limit so long as the patron god has the needed energy to spare.

Requires the use of a shovel to activate.]

[The total balance of the host is now: 6,100,000 merit points [-40,000].]

Of course, such a low ranking skill was ridiculously cheap since Daz had maxed out its level at 10 months ago.

Regardless, he put the matter of the skill in the back of his mind for now. He had work to do, sadly. Even sleeping last night was a luxury he really shouldn't have indulged in.

Daz got out of bed and quickly threw on some pants and a shirt. He leaned over the still sleeping Madison and kissed her forehead. "I'm going to work."

"Mmm... Have, fun..." Madison replied in a groggy tone.

'Okay, mostly still sleeping,' Daz thought as he smiled warmly. "I love you."

"... Same," Madison replied after a few seconds.

Daz watched her roll around a bit, cocooning herself in sheets now that his side was empty. Mr Barrier rolled with her since he seemed to be glued to the top of her head.

Chuckling faintly, he then put his armour on over his clothes and left their bedroom. Once in the throne room, he was greeted by Crosius.

"Good morning, Your Majesty. I'm afraid I can't be by your side for long today as there are countless complaints slowly coming in from around the kingdom in regards to the cracks. Nothing that warrants your direct attention, of course, but I and my team of advisors are rather tied up with handling it all," the old man with a wizard's beard explained.

Daz nodded as he got comfortable on his throne. "I understand. Is there any word back from Washington?"

"Ah, yes, indeed. After you sent their representative home, the former president himself showed up. He's been waiting for you for quite a few hours now," Crosius happily claimed.

Daz smiled subtly. "Well, at least they didn't up and flee in the middle of the night. Show him to the throne room so I can get this dispute matter over and done with."

***

'I expected this place to be... shabbier,' Archibald thought to himself.

Right now he was sitting in the waiting lobby to the throne room of Castle Crowthorne. Having served the U.S.A. as its president faithfully for six years, he'd seen a fair amount of castles and palaces.

It was just a part of the job as the leader of a nation to visit other leaders in their places of residence.

Still, this building took the cake. It looked deceptively simple on the outside, just like any old plain castle you'd find scattered around Europe, really. The primary difference was how immaculate its interior was.

'Clearly, the high king doesn't manage this himself. He's a boorish boy from my understanding,' Archibald thought to himself. 'No doubt he had the funds to afford this though what with the ludicrous interest rates at his system-sanctioned bank.'

In truth, the 84-year-old man was incredibly nervous right now. Of course he was. He'd come with damn near the entirety of the Secret Service that still remained to protect him.

They were the ones most changed by the system under his rule and they were more powerful than ever. With their training and strength, Archibald felt it more than reasonable that they could keep him safe in a wild kingdom like New Earth.

However, that very same unit of powerhouses had been told they may not enter the castle and a few of them were even beaten black and blue for trying to use force when they barred entry.

The ones who had beaten them? Ordinary soldiers from the looks of things.

Archibald shook his head. 'They are definitely strong, the soldiers here. We can use that though. If we can figure something out, we can use those soldiers to make America a superpower again. To think, as we consolidated our power and focused entirely on surviving, warlords and zealots rose up to divvy up the country that had raised them.'

He was disgusted. What sort of patriot would do such a thing? The system's coming had only shown him how badly the disconnect between the generations truly was.

'To think, after causing such a huge mess with those worldwide cracks, that Hamilio brat has the gall to chase out my representative and make a deal with a venerable hillbilly. The world's gone to shit,' the old man thought as he exhaled deeply.

"Lord Archibald Jones?" a foreign-looking woman in a strange maid's uniform asked of him.

'I'm the president, for Pete's sake. But yes, according to the system, I'm just a 'lord',' he scoffed internally as he smiled externally. "Yes. Will His Majesty see me now?"

"He will. Please, follow me," the maid said as she spun on her heels and began walking.

Archibald picked himself up and did as instructed - follow her. Again, he was impressed by the decor and the sheer ambience of the castle's halls. Pre-system this building might have cost hundreds of millions to recreate, he guessed.

He wasn't a businessman though, no. He was a lawyer before stepping into the world of politics, something he was confident would help him here.

Before long, he had been lead to a large set of metal and wooden engraved doors. The engravings depicted countless crows and thorns as well as shovels and crystals, all arranged very ornately within the materials. Clearly, a master craftsman had created this piece of art.

The maid bowed at the door and it swung open, revealing the throne room beyond. Archibald, with confidence in his steps, entered.

"Greetings, Your Majesty, High King Daz Crowthorne," Archibald said politely as he bowed his head in a show of respect.

He then took a good long moment to study the young man seated upon the metal throne that was raised a few feet off the ground by some steps.

He was... intimidating. Archibald could immediately feel his entire 84-years of life experience being challenged by the cold and apathetic gaze of the 21-year-old ruler gazing down upon him as if a god looking at an ant.

He was clad neck-to-toe in an icy set of heavy armour with only his head free of equipment. Not that it helped humanise him much since the grey halo above his head was radiating a powerful aura of dominance and suppression.

The high king's expression was also deep and impactful. It didn't belong on the face of a man his age.

'So this is an Ember?' Archibald wondered as he tried his best to maintain his cool. 'Or is this just his power as a Hamilio weighing down on me? I wish I knew more about the espers of our country. It's a shame that wasn't my department.'

However, intimidated as he might be, Archibald had both defended and prosecuted some of America's most evil people in his decades-long career. He would not be broken by the mere gaze of a child.

The high king raised an eyebrow. "You're certainly more impressive than that representative from yesterday. Speak your case then. Why should I, the strongest man on Earth and likely the best chance we have and not immediately getting enslaved by some power-hungry player, hand over my power to you, a coward who did nothing until this very moment?"

Archibald felt his mind twisting as if attempting its best to conform to the words spoken by the high king.

'Is this his Gift of the Gab skill at work? Likely his stats too. Dangerous. I'm glad my class at least counters this part of him,' Archibald sighed in relief.

"I do not appreciate being labelled as a coward when you know nothing of what I am my people have been doing since the start of the system's arrival," Archibald challenged. "This attitude alone shows how unfit to rule you are when you demean those that would question your rule, young man."

The high king chuckled faintly. "Then tell me, Lord Jones, what is it that you and your less than 10,000 citizens have done in the past year? Besides hole up in Washington State, I mean."

Archibald furrowed his brow. "We have been researching the system. I immediately saw the futility in gathering large groups of people since it only made the trials more difficult. Instead, I chose to discover what I could about our new omniscient invader. This did change when the waves become semesters and personal goals become the objectives, but regardless, we pressed on."

"Researching the system, hmm?" High King Crowthorne scratched his chin with his gauntlet. "I've done that too. Still, I see not how that gives you the right to claim my throne. You can continue to perform your research under my protection. Is that not a good arrangement?"

'And just give you the power I worked decades to earn? I was two years into my final term but now the system comes and gives me the chance to rule until my death and make America a prosperous nation again. Yet here you are, literally splitting the planet apart and ruining everything?' Archibald could feel his temper rising.

'No. You are an esper. I may not know much about espers but I do know what they desire above all else - power,' Archibald reinforced himself mentally.

Meanwhile, the young Archreaper sitting above him simply had a peaceful and all-knowing smile spread across his lips.