GodlySkeleton

Soul of Blades - Chapter 57: An Unholy Assembly

To be outnumbered was not to be outclassed. That was a lesson Alex had carried with him his whole life.

There was always a way, a second, more important lesson his first experience with being outnumbered had taught him. Throughout his past life, he had been outnumbered on more than a few occasions and in more ways than one. He had faced two opponents, or five, or ten, or at one point, fifty. He hadn’t won against fifty, though. But he hadn’t exactly lost either;

Because there had been a way.

Movement had been his ally, to race and run, to shift. To force the enemy to battle on your terms, to remove the safety of numbers. To force each of them to face the reality of their personal weakness, rather than the strength of a group. The key hadn’t been to beat fifty people, or even to beat one person fifty times.

The key to victory lay in beating the strongest portion, removing the bravest from the fight with such finality that the cowards among them lost their spine.

He had beaten two, three, even five. But he had failed against fifty, a single mistake was all it had taken. But still, there had been a way.

“There’s always a way,” Alex muttered the mantra, a chant of refuge in the bleakest of storms.

But viewing the present storm in his midst, the refuge of his words seemed… tenuous.

***

An unholy assembly of nobility stood before Alex, their ominous presence shrouding the surrounding landscape which warped and changed before his eyes. He observed the armies arrayed before him, its Mephistophelian soldiers— each marked by the infernal - majestic yet monstrous. Their stature and features varied from tall and sinewy to imposing and hulking, the heads of their armour all crowned with dual horns, curved backwards above the roof of metal domes.

Alex noticed something shifting at the front of the gathered troops, four rising hills of red. Brood mothers, infernal and deadly, shifted the attention of all present.

It was then that Alex saw something in this twisted space, this world, moving with them. Above them. Straddling the broodmothers like steeds.

Three figures, each crowned with horns— real horns and not metal imitations, that twisted and curled in a myriad of grotesque, yet captivating shapes. The only exception to this pattern, he observed, was the eldest appearing of the four- a figure of wicked elegance, adorned with three horns.

Then—Alex saw them clearly.

A Prince, the eldest, the first, resting atop a monstrous brood mother with ease. An imposing figure with ripcord muscles stretching his sallow skin. Two horns curled up from the sides of his head, framing a sharp third central horn that jutted out from the center of his forehead like a wicked spear. His red eyes, full of malevolence, glowed like the dying embers around them.

The first Prince of many.

Second, stood beside the first prince atop her own broodmother, was a princess. She was a paradox of beauty and terror. She had strikingly lithe and feminine features, an infernal allure that emphasised her defined, seductive and angelic features. Yet, her beauty was deeply marred by the sheer malice that simmered just beneath its surface.

The second princess of few.

Alex's eyes locked on to the second princess’s form, her eyes were completely black and devoid of any human emotion, accentuated by bright, crimson pupils that glowed with insatiable predatory hunger. Her mouth was unnaturally warped and wide— filled with wicked teeth that seemed to cut the very air, parting the wind. But her smile was the most striking. Her smile was an unnaturally warped and elongated horror show, with rows of large impossibly sharp teeth. It transformed her picturesque face into a haunting spectacle. Every time she closed her gargantuan mouth, Alex would momentarily forget her grotesque nature, captivated by her deceptive beauty, only to be startled by the return of her horrifying grin.

It was just so… big. Gaping. A maw that ended in pitch-blackness. Alex suspected a single bite could remove limbs.

He stood rooted to the spot, his heart thumping against the walls of his ribs like gates under siege. He hastily checked his status and dumped all of his forty free stats into endurance. He reasoned that with this many enemies before him, he was bound to eventually receive blows, armoured force field or not. The axe blow he'd witnessed from R'jdar, the fourth prince, was worrying. As long as he had the endurance to survive whatever came his way, he could make it back to Lyra and the town’s warriors. They were bound to have a healer amongst them.

[Name: Alex Ironwood

Level: 60

Race: Human - Rank F

Primary Class: ̷̷͎̠̠̖̳̮̿́̏̄͝͠Sys̵̞̈́͆̓̓te̸̪̟͇͕͂mic SwO̷̟̮̙͚̔rd So̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅve̶̷̵̴̲̳̱reign

Sub-class: Locked

Strength: 358 (231)

Dexterity: 389 (251)

Endurance: 198 (128)

Intelligence: 505 (326)

Wisdom: 43 (28)

Feats: First Encounter, Pioneer, Pinnacle IV, Survivor, Warrior, Champion,

Active skills: Phoenix Leap, Mana Burn, Mana Blade, Boundless Dodge, Duȅ̷̳̮̄͝͠l of C̷͎̠̠̖̿́orruption, Sovereign Executioner, WeightedBody,

Passive skills: Inner Focus, Outer Focus, A̷̶̵̴̲̳̱l̸̢͉̗̣̑͐͛à̸̶̵̴̶̷̶̺̥̮̯͇̲̳̱̼̲͒̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̸̴̶̷̵̢̳̮̲̳̱͉̗̣̲̳̱̏̄̑͐͛͝͠Ω̴̵̶̷̲̳̱ ̶̶̯͇̼̲̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̴̶̷̵̳̮̲̳̱̲̳̱̏̄͝͠g̵̶̷̴̲̳̱e̸̪̟͇͕͂e̶̷̵̴̲̳̱E̵̴̶̷̶̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̢̲̳̱̼̲̲̳̱̟̮̙͚͉̗̣̺̥̮͋͐͋͂̔̑͐͛̀͒ͅͅ ̶̷̶̴̵̶̷̯͇̲̳̱̈́̈͛ ̷̸̴̶̷̵̳̮̪̟͇͕̲̳̱̏̄͂͝͠M̷̶̵̴̲̳̱m̸̵̴̶̷̸̷̸̴̶̷̵̢͉̗̣̲̳̱̪̟͇͕̟̮̙͚̺̥̮̲̳̱̑͐͛͂̔̀͒ͅ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̸̶̢̳̮͉̗̣̼̲̏̄̑͐͛͋͐͋͂͝͠ͅO̷̟̮̙͚̔o̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅᾯ̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̸̢̲̳̱̲̳̱̟̮̙͚̪̟͇͕͉̗̣̺̥̮̑͐͛̀͒ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̶͎̠̠̖̼̲̿́͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠ ̷̶̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̴̶̷̵̲̳̱̲̳̱̲̳̱, Inventory, Bestial Senses, BladeBody,

Dao: True Immortality - 0.06% Progress

Unassigned stat points: 0]

He noted was receiving the 55% stat boost instead of his usual 45%, due to being outnumbered, surrounded, and apparently outclassed by one if not all of the demon royals. Frustration within bubbled further.

He felt as though he had developed by leaps and bounds. But according to the system, he had barely even taken a single step on the path of conquest. Once more, he found himself out-levelled and outstripped in power. Climbing the endless mountain of strength, he was impeded at every turn. Suck it up, buddy, he thought to himself, this is the path you chose, so own it. Destroy it. He squeezed his blades until blood fled from his knuckles.

The same sentiment applied to his Dao. The system told him he had not even reached a single step on the godly path. He thought of the vague impressions of his visions, and when he compared them to his current capabilities, he had to agree. The Dao…I’ll conquer that, too, he thought with fury. But now was a dangerous time to be distracted. Alertness would be his bastion and blade. With his stats allocated, his eyes frantically darted to and fro, absorbing the sight of the four demon royals and their harrowing armies.

He saw more figures shift, rising high, and obscuring the light of the pillar.

The third Prince Alex saw, was a brute. The third was lean yet immensely muscular and lounged with an air of boredom atop his brood mother. The third’s dual horns were gnarled and twisted things. They rose from his head like demonic sceptres. He looked on with disinterest, eyes devoid of the fiery glow his kin bore, only filled with a cold, disdainful glint. A third prince of slothful might.

Alex’s gaze returned to the fourth, R’djar, who by comparison to his siblings appeared the youngest, the weak.

The fourth Prince, R'jdar, stood apart from the others, having dismounted from his broodmother to face Alex long before his siblings' arrival. His physique was smaller— more human-like than the rest, an odd coincidence. A subtle sneer rested on his face, a blatant sign of his frustration and underlying rage.

He crossed his arms behind his back and regarded his siblings.

Amidst the swirling maelstrom of the demon horde, the first Prince appeared towering. He leered down at his brethren from his monstrous mount and stretched, a twisted working of lean muscles and gnarled horns. A wordless challenge issued from the fiery light of his gaze as he eyed each sibling. A challenge none but one returned. The light of the embers around them ricocheted off his three horns.

"This world," The first of many princes rumbled, his voice deep like thunder, "is teeming with life. Perfect for the harvest."

The second Princess, with her grotesque caricature of beauty, smirked. Her smile was a gash, an abyss lined with razor teeth. "Indeed. But what's this?" she drawled, her black eyes alight with fiery red pupils. "Our fourth, the weak, unable to conquer a mere village?"

"You seem overly fond of this fresh world, brother," she sneered, her voice laced with amused condescension. "Could it be, that our esteemed fourth Prince has bungled so horribly that even a mere hamlet is beyond his reach?"

A collective hiss of amusement rippled through the horde. She basked in it, her smirk widening grotesquely, displaying the terrifying extent of her maw and its endlessly sharp teeth. Her gaze drifted over Alex, who, till then, had been successfully playing statue amidst the ruins, unnoticed. Somehow, despite her gaze sweeping past his location, she still did not seem to notice him. He shuddered visibly under the potential of unwelcome attention.

Maybe I can escape somehow, before they notice... his eyes moved while his neck stayed rigid. But what if his movement brought attention to him? Alex was paralyzed with indecision.

Across the battlefield, the third Prince- the brute, chimed in. His voice dripped with sarcasm, each word laced with listful disinterest. "Splendid, brother. You exceed yourself." His lazy posture betrayed the lethal strength infused within his muscular frame, and his eyes flashed with both judgment and cold disinterest.

Meanwhile, the fourth Prince, R'jdar, stood rigid. His apparent anger radiated off him in noticeable waves. His gaze bore into Alex but he held no words for him. His rage was a bitter pill, one he was forced to swallow publicly.

"Silence," R'jdar snarled, his fury a barely contained storm.

"Your mockery does not weaken me.” His gaze swept across his siblings, reaching one before turning to the other. “I have bested every one of you many times before."

His gaze briefly landed on the third, before settling on the second princess of few.

“And it’s not a hamlet, it’s a town, you imbecile.”

The third Prince, with hulking figure of muscular sinew and shadowy skin, lazily joined in the laughter that bubbled up around them. His horns gnarled, yet simpler and straighter than his elder brother's, shone ominously as he threw back his head in hearty amusement. Alex could sense that this time, the laughter was strained, forced. "Indeed," the third guffawed, “it is a town.”

The third settled, using his immense strength to tug at the reigns of his brood mother, turning its elephant-like frame to face Prince R’djar. “And indeed you have bested us all. But with mere trickery. Never with strength”

He leaned forward intently, as his elder siblings looked on with interest. "I've heard tell that humans of this world are stronger than most,” he spoke the words they all thought, “but all newly inducted worlds are notoriously weak. How is it that this town still stands?" the third questioned, gazing at R'jdar the weak.

Scornful eyes all turned towards the fourth Prince, R'jdar. He was leaner than his siblings, and smaller. But his muscles had the hardened look of tempered steel, and bulged with every movement. The unmistakable mark of the battlefield. His dark eyes burned with defiance, in protest against the incessant hatred of his siblings. A promise to overcome was held in his gaze, it was a promise that Alex too easily recognised.

Alex remained silent, a statue amidst this horror show. At first, he had been frozen with indecision. But now, his mind was busy, thoughts pacing, weaving, creating a blueprint of potential escape strategies. They had underestimated him, dismissed him.

And that, he knew, was their biggest mistake.

As the demons continued their banterous exchange, Alex absorbed everything - their postures, their interactions, their arrogance. Their weaknesses.

The fourth, R’djar, was indignant and unyielding. Cunning.

The third was a sloth.

The second was flippant yet insatiable, ravenous, and covetous.

And the first was mired in seas of overconfidence.

Alex noticed the smallest of details, the furtive glances, the subtle body language, the undercurrent of tension. Everything was data, everything was valuable.

But as he watched, one thought remained - how to use their own arrogance against them. How to exploit their dismissal of him, and how to use his insignificance to bring about their downfall.

He watched as they turned their attention back to the fourth prince, R’djar. For them, his present failure and apparent incompetence was a source of vindication. Reaffirming their beliefs in their strength and superiority over him. They were berating him, questioning him, their views evident. They seemed to resent their numerous losses to him in their homeworld.

But to Alex, it meant something completely different.

Despite all of them being stronger than Prince R'jdar, he had apparently bested them many times in their world. He found that fact the most concerning.

The fourth prince, R'jdar the weak, seemed especially dangerous.

Alex observed him. Prince R'jdar seemed cornered, his rage barely contained, looking ready to explode. And that was another vulnerability, another weak point to exploit.

“If it wasn’t for the crystals I provided, there would be no incursion! There would be no conquest!” He yelled at his siblings, losing control and pointing to the large crystals suspended in the air.

The first prince shifted, a smug sense of victory playing on his demonic features. "Yes brother, thank you for providing the stage for me- for us to finally display our superiority. True superiority, through real and uncontested strength." the first prince bellowed, his voice booming, filling the air with its dreadful sound. He sighed, high on what Alex assumed was the sensation of overcoming his first and only loss. "Isn't it laughable? Couldn't even control a small town, let alone a city."

The second princess laughed, a sound that was eerily melodic, at odds with her grotesque appearance. "I think it's simply delightful. What fun we'll have with this lot," she said, her gaze sweeping over the settlement.

The First Prince of many, his voice resonating with power, boomed in response, "A farm, that's what this world will be good for." He turned his gaze towards the Fourth Prince, a sadistic grin splitting his face. "A farm for resources, slaves... and perhaps, meat."

His words sent a chilling hush across the assembled host, countless eyes shining with horrific anticipation. They revelled in the vision of a world in flames, its people in chains, and the taste of human flesh.

They were so engrossed in their cruel revelry that they almost missed the insignificant human in their midst.

Almost.

It was the second princess who spotted Alex first. She continued to scan the burning and changing environment, Then, her eyes landed on Alex. She stilled. "Oh," she drawled, her voice seeping into the corners of the hushed silence, "what's this?" Her cruel smile turned into a leer, her interest piqued. "A human?" she purred, a mix of curiosity and disdain.

Then, they too noticed Alex, standing on the periphery, silent and observant. Disbelief filled their faces as they turned their attention towards the Fourth Prince, R’djar the weak. "You bring a native to the incursion point?" the second princess asked, her voice a blend of amusement and scorn.

The fourth prince's rage, already a simmering pot, exploded. His gaze zeroed in on Alex, his eyes hardening dangerously. Prince R'jdar, snarled, his temper flaring. This was not going according to plan. The human was supposed to be a pawn, not the center of attention. Not so soon.

The Third Prince of sloth, shared in their derision. He chimed in, his interest finally piqued. "A pet, brother? Or have you grown so weak you need the humans to fight your battles?" His amused tones were filled with cruelty, sounding across the battlefield.

Enraged, Prince R'jdar clenched his fists, the dark red veins on his neck standing out starkly against his obsidian skin. He glared at Alex, a primitive native in the midst of royalty.

A potential pawn in his dangerous game.

The first and oldest prince followed his sibling's gazes to Alex. "Ah," he chuckled, a slow, menacing sound. "A native. Isn't it adorable?"

"You think this one will taste good?" The slothful third wondered, curiosity displayed in his peering eyes.

About as tasteful as a blade, Alex thought with derision. Through this all, he had stood silent, unresponsive but observant, he studied the royalty and their monstrous armies. Studied how they interacted. These were the beings that sought to strip his new world bare, to reduce its people to slaves, to raze his new home to the ground. The gravity of his circumstances pressed down on him heavily and from all sides, yet within, a plan had begun to form. A desperate, dangerous plan. A plan of survival and revenge.

"I doubt it," the first prince responded, a low growl underlining his words. "Their meat is always so... bland."

"Are we talking about taste or control?" The second princess interjected, a malicious glint in her eyes. "Because if it's control we're discussing..."

She let her words hang in the air, her gaze now firmly on the fourth prince. His muscles coiled in response, a tangible wave of apparent humiliation washing over him.

The eldest prince tugged, and his brood mother took a single step, closer to Alex’s still form. “So what do we have here?" The first prince drawled, a smirk hinting at the corner of his lips as he swept a pointed gaze to Alex, as though he were an exotic specimen. "Does the pet have a name?"

Alex, startled, found himself answering before he could think "I’m not a pet. My name is Alex, demon." His voice came out harsh, defiant.

"Alex," the third prince repeated as if testing the name. "How... ordinary."

"It's a primitive native, brother," the second princess said, her gaze fixed on Alex, appraising, calculating. "What sort of interest, or even challenge do you think it can pose?"

Disbelief etched itself onto the faces of the demon monarchy as they struggled to comprehend how a lowly native, a creature they considered beyond inferior, could find its way to the heart of their stronghold. The Fourth Prince, R'jdar, seemingly caught off guard by the prospect, attempted to explain himself with words laced with defensiveness. "He is not just a primitive native. He possesses knowledge and insights that may aid us in our conquest.” He regarded Alex with a serious expression, all of his previous scrutiny and condescension long forgotten. “He is valuable.”

W-What!? Alex sputtered internally, shocked at what Prince R'jdar had just claimed. What the hell is he talking about? He just spent the whole time before they arrived telling me how little I knew and that I deserved no knowledge!?

Still simmering with uncontrolled rage, the Fourth Prince's voice turned sharp, his words a cutting retort. "You underestimate him. This 'primitive native' has proven himself resourceful and resilient. He holds secrets that could turn the tides of our wars. Of all of our wars. Do not kill him."

“… “ Alex was dumbfounded. Was R'jdar just a pathological liar?

Intrigue played and raced through the eyes of all demon royalty present, as they exchanged curious glances, contemplating the Fourth Prince's claims. The eldest, the first Prince, spoke. His voice was a low rumble addressed to Alex directly. "Speak, primitive. What knowledge do you possess that could be of use to us?"

As Alex desperately thought of a response, a system notification flashed before his eyes and a wave of calm washed over him as the final piece of his plan was set.

It was time to move.

He crouched, paused, and began to mutter a series of words.

The second princess leaned towards the edge of her perch on her broodmother and stared at Alex’s crouched and muttering form curiously. “What was that, human? I can’t hear you. What did you say?”

The royal demons all turned to face Alex. The arrayed armies all regarded him curiously. The fourth, R'jdar, was suddenly nowhere to be seen.

Alex looked up at her from his crouched position and drew a sword from deep within his chest. It shone a bright, and blinding fiery blue, morphing into a metallic white copy of him, complete with its own blindingly bright blue blade.

He grinned, and responded, “I said… Mana Burn”.

[2 hour mana cooldown ended. Skills now available for use]

Soul of Blades - Chapter 56: The Infernal Regent

Alex’s fingers curled around the grip of his sword, a quiet, familiar touch that anchored him amid the escalating chaos. His heart beating a steady, calming rhythm in his chest that sent waves of information surging through him. It was strange to be able sense and see your inner workings so vividly. He was no doctor, but he could feel that he had hardly sustained any injuries reaching this here. His boots enhanced his movements, and his armoured’s force field held strong, imperceptibly shielding him from the endless harm he had faced.

Yet His mouth filled with a bitter tang — the sharp bite of caution and the deeper, stronger flavour of resolve. He watched the demon horde, absorbing every detail. Each tiny motion, each restless shuffle and low grunt, added layers to the puzzle he was about to throw himself into.

Then, cloaked in shadow and silence, he moved.

Launching from his concealed perch, Alex flowed through the air like a shadow detached from its source. His worn boots met the hardened lava of the ground with a faint crunch, a minor sound in the grand orchestra of resistance.

A guard, standing oblivious near the crimson pillar of light, was his first target. Alex’s blade hummed softly in his hands as he closed in, a whispering ghost on the winds of the surrounding flames. The blade found its mark with swift and deadly precision. The guard crumpled as alex silently guided its fall, taken down before it even knew there was a threat. He reached for the demons ornate silver blade, experimentally storing the battered military blade in his Inventory skill. Good, it still works, he confirmed with relief. He had long discovered that under cooldown, he could not retrieve specific items, but only store them or pull them at random. The blade vanished to some unknown space he felt he could access more deeply when the restriction was lifted, but now was not the time to investigate further.

Already, Alex was moving again, blade in hand.

His boots gripped the volcanic ground, propelling him towards the next demon. His sword sang again, its silver arc catching the red light as it plunged through the demon. He was a living specter in the darkness, a soft-sounded threat that quickly became a roar.

One by one, the demons fell. Each quiet, precise strike etched a brutal tale into the dark canvas of the dusk. Yet for each demon that fell, it seemed another stepped forward. Among them, the 4th prince peered into the portal, unflinching. His gaze as hard and cold as the twisted stones beneath them.

Alex moved like a wraith among them, unnoticed until a sudden hush fell over the scene. The demons, who had been relentless in their forward march out of the portal, suddenly paused. A clear path opened up between the guards, leading from Alex to the fourth prince. All eyes turned toward him, and Alex understood that his cloak of anonymity had been shed.

At the end of this eerie corridor of still guards, the 4th prince turned along with his monstrous mount. The prince’s axe, a weapon that had radiated a terrifying wave of power, shone menacingly from its place on his back.

"Challenging me, human?" Prince R'jdar's smooth voice carried over the battlefield, cold and deadly as the winds sweeping over the molten landscape.

Alex planted his feet, wiped the sweat from his brow, his chest heaving as he gathered his breath. He raised his sword, pointing it directly at the prince.

He watched for any signs of movement.

“Bold words for a beast that lurks in the back of a battle and sends lesser creatures to fight his battles,” Alex responded, the words hissing through clenched teeth. His eyes, hard as the obsidian scattered around him, never left R'jdar’s icy gaze.

“You understand nothing of our world, human,” prince R'jdar shot back, his voice dismissive, as if swatting away a pesky fly. “Your kind, with your crude weapons and feeble magics, you are like mewling infants in the grand cosmic scheme. You’ve been playing with ants and dogs, hatchling, while we serve those who shape destinies.”

Prince R'jdar stood from atop the brood mother, glaring down at Alex.

"No, you have merely scratched the surface," the demon continued lazily, his tone oozing condescension. "You have yet to comprehend the grand design, the true essence of power. You revel in the scraps we toss to you, like a starving beast finding a rotten carcass."

Prince R'jdar then descended from his monstrous mount, a single step clearing the distance between him and the ground. And watched Alex from across the corridor of silent demonic guards.

R'jdar’s glowing red eyes glared across the distance “a bug under the might of true power, crawling through the dirt, believing it to be the heavens."

Alex was silent for a moment, pondering the demon's words. He had indeed witnessed the system's mysterious and seemingly limitless power. He’d experienced the arduous climb to power, one step at a time, fighting tooth and nail for every scrap of strength. And he had indeed wondered, what force commanded such a grand design?

Alex glared back at the entity before him. The ‘4th demon prince’, R'jdar. He stood at Alex's height, but that was where the similarities ended. The princes powerful form was intimidating, cloaked in a swirl of dark energy and exuding a strange malicious aura. This wasn't a creature of this world; it was something altogether more sinister. Alex's hand gripped the hilt of his newly claimed sword tighter, the cool metal and ancient designs grounding him in the face of thick, potent, and mounting hostility.

“What do you want from me?” Alex asked, his voice steady despite the dangerous aura of the demon prince.

I haven’t been attacked yet and they have the advantage. He wants something, clearly. The only question that remained was what exactly it was, and how exactly Alex could specifically not do it.

The demon, R'jdar sneered, an ugly expression on an already alien visage. “What do I want?” he repeated his question with a mocking tone, as if the concept were amusing. “Nothing. You are nothing but a plaything, a puppet. You hold no value to me beyond your potential for entertainment.”

Alex frowned, mostly undeterred by the insult. They had only just begun to interact and this guy was already starting to get on his nerves. He wanted to check how long was left on the cooldown for his mana, but judging by how quickly R'jdar had just moved, he couldn’t afford to be distracted. There were too many demons for him to hope to survive the encounter without his skills, he would have to check when the prince seemed distracted. He had been discovered, he was surrounded on all sides, and had already seen the a glimpse of the Prince’s powerful capabilities. He needed a new strategy.

I guess no plan survives contact with the enemy. He mused bitterly, checking the countdown on his cool-down with Inner Focus as the prince glanced towards the portal.

Twenty minutes left.

Despite the odds stacked against him, at this moment, all he wanted was information, something to help him end the incursion, or even better - eradicate them.

“Answer the question,” Alex shot back, eyes still locked onto the demon. What he wanted even more was to buy time, to understand the bigger picture that seemed to stretch far beyond the confines of this world.

The demon prince paused, a smirk pulling at the corner of its lips. “Tell me, hatchling. What use is knowledge to a slave?”

“You can't comprehend the truths of the universe. You haven't even grasped a speck of the Dao, nor are you worthy to. You youself are but a speck, an insignificant creature squirming in the grand tapestry of existence.”

Okay, I get it. You’re a dick. Just say that— wait, the Dao!? Alex met the demon's stare, his mind halting to a stop, then pacing with concern.

His cool exterior belied the turmoil within. The prince had mentioned a Dao.

The 'Dao of True Immortality' that Alex had discovered after witnessing Phoenix's battle felt so far away now. If this demon prince held a Dao too, just how advanced was it? This could be more dangerous than he had imagined. He needed to know exactly what he was dealing with, and he needed to know fast.

"I've survived the trials thrown my way so far," Alex retorted, trying to keep his tone calm. "That's more than can be said for many."

Prince R'jdar’s eyes narrowed. "Survival. A concept cherished by the weak. True servants of the Martial Empire surpass the very notion of survival. We do not cling to life. We rule over it."

‘The Martial empire’? Is that the true name of the imperials? Alex wondered. The term ‘martial’ meant combat, fighting, and war. Alex envisioned a powerful group with a dominant presence, where martial prowess and combat skills held great significance. The name suggested a disciplined society, focused on military might and hierarchical structures, possibly ruling over vast territories- worlds, with an iron fist. From everything he’d seen and heard, Alex imagined a combination of strength, control, and a relentless pursuit of power woven into the very fabric of this empire. At the prospect, he could only think one thing.

Pyra and Earth, might be fucked.

"A grand claim," Alex said, maintaining his composure. "So, what Dao do you follow, 'oh mighty Prince'?"

Prince R'jdar scoffed, a hint of irritation slipping through his composed demeanour. "Knowledge of the Dao is not for the likes of you to understand. What use is such enlightenment to a slave?"

The demon prince continued, his voice grating on the air like the shrieking of ancient gears. "A fledgling, strutting about and asking questions as if you've tasted the secrets of the universe. Your efforts, your struggles... they are pitifully futile."

Inside, Alex’s heart thumped. visions of his last insight to the Dao plagued his thoughts, the destruction he had seen, the death, and most of alll, the immense strength he had witnessed. Was the prince implying he had a Dao? Or did he simply have knowledge of it? If it was the former, Alex could be dealing with a being on a whole other level of power.

Their discourse had led to potentially dangerous territory, then to extremely dangerous grounds. But he had no know.

"Knowledge is a privilege, human. A privilege meant for those who are capable, not for slaves or lesser servants," the Prince R'jdar countered, his tone full of disdain. "You are not worthy of it."

Ignoring the barb, Alex continued, “Well, I'm here. With no intention of serving or submitting.” He paused before recklessly adding, “And if I am as unworthy as you claim, how did I make it so far? How did I get here, to talk with you?”

The demon prince glowered, impatience clouding his infernal gaze. “You're only alive because I allow it, insect. Don’t flatter yourself into thinking you have control here.”

"Your place," R'jdar continued, his tone cold, "is at the feet of your betters, as a slave, or perhaps, a lesser servant. That is the fate of the weak. What use is the truths to the likes of you?" His voice rang across the clearing.

"Sorry to disappoint you prince, but I decide my own fate," Alex said, squaring his shoulders, settling into a stance. His hand touched the hilt of his sword as he shifted his feet. He gazed at the surrounding demons, and at the crystal, floating some distance away. He would need to avoid the horde, and avoid the prince long enough to damage, or steal the crystal, somehow. These were bleak odds, but they were all he had

The demon prince, R'jdar, sneered. “Dreams. The fantasies of the weak. Do you believe you can reach the same level as us, the chosen of the Empire, with just dreams? Naive, just as I expected.”

Alex clenched a fist, the words stinging more than he cared to admit. He had been called weak before, when he had failed to complete training, by his lessers in skill, strength, or technique. But hearing it from this being… was a reality check, a reminder of the vast cosmos and the powerful entities that resided within. He knew he was in the early stages of his journey, but to be dismissed as such felt like a mockery of his effort, of his struggle. He had ventured through trials and tribulations, battled mythical beasts, and had even begun to scrape at the surface of the Dao. But to this demon prince, it was all insignificant.

“Enough.” Alex finally said, his voice hardened with resolve. He was not one to back down, not one to be belittled.

Alex stood firm, his chest heaving, sweat trickling down his brow. He lifted his sword, directing the point of it at the prince.

“I’m ending this,” he stated, his voice cutting through the tense silence.

“End this?” A laugh, as harsh as grinding stones, rumbled from the 4th prince. “You’ve only just begun.”

As the prince’s words rang into the night, a brilliant light sliced upwards, originating from the crystal within the glowing pillar. The landscape was suddenly bathed in a hellish light as another large crystal appeared, followed by another, and then another. Each bright pulse of light marked the arrival of a mess of more demons, more soldiers, and more creatures. Four crystals had appeared. The prince’s promise of ten minutes had been fulfilled.

A demon army, and four demon royals, surrounded Alex.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 55: The Heart of the Incursion

Alex stood still, his breath controlled, eyes sharp. Alone. He moved carefully, a shadow amongst the ruins. The din of distant battles sounded, but they were far behind him now.

His feet barely whispered against the worn cobblestones as he traversed the labyrinth of shattered and burning buildings. His strength and agility, now beyond mortal in their capacity, superhuman, lent him catlike grace as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop, silent as the wind.

The horizon was bleeding. A terraforming effect was spreading outward from the center of the incursion, sculpting part of the settlement into a hellish landscape. Earth hardened into molten rock, streams of lava painted fiery veins up the sides of buildings. It was a landscape reborn in ruin, a world remade by conquests unforgiving hunger. Once familiar stones morphed into volcanic rock, and bricks morphed into obsidian under the relentless transformation.

Then, he saw it.

The center. The heart of the hellscape. Illuminated by the ominous red pillar of light, in the center, was a demon unlike any he had ever seen. Atop a monstrous Brood Mother, the demon sat. It sported horns, curled back in the manner of a ram, a wild crown against the crimson sky. Sleek upwards-spouting spikes adorned its forearms, like grisly trophies.

Its eyes glowed red. The ember gaze seemed to burn the air around it. Long, black hair flowed like a night river down its lithe, muscular form. Poised, like a predator ready to pounce, it was still. Its robes played, dancing to an unseen wind.

Alex observed from the shadows.

A monstrous axe was strapped to the demon's back, the weapon dwarfed only by its bearer. His gaze traced the line of the axe, down to the creature's silent form, then up again to the blazing eyes.

The red pillar pulsed.

A procession of demons poured out from a portal at the heart of the incursion. Each was adorned in robes of lower status, a uniform of servitude to the monstrous demon lord. All of them appeared somewhat humanoid, although still muscular, large, and warped. They were much less monstrous than the demonic creatures Alex had fought over an hour ago. They seemed less like creatures, and more like people. Their numbers were steadily increasing as more entered Pyra through the portal. Eleven... then twelve... with more materialising every minute.

Then there was a flash.

At the head of the portal, a large crystal sparked into existence and grew larger with each new arrival. It was as big as Alex’s torso, shining with unholy light. It pulsated, its rhythm synced to the flow of the portal.

Alex continued his observation.

He catalogued every detail, every minute twitch of the demonic procession, every pulse of the crystal. The battle-worn warrior became a silent scholar in the shadows, his mind working through the horrors unfolding before his eyes.

The red pillar continued to burn as Alex remained in his hidden perch, watching the demonic assembly.

He waited in the shadows. The demon’s silhouette was etched in his mind, the glowing eyes, the curling horns. He catalogued the details, every visual cue, every aspect his surrounding and its demonic origins.

A strategy began to form.

His eyes narrowed, focusing on the crystal. Its rhythm, its growth, the way it flashed with every new entry. It must be a beacon, he reasoned. A siren calling out to the demonic procession, and their waypoint to this world. The crystal pulsed as if guiding them to this world from cosmic pathways, similar to the portal he encountered in the dungeon. If I could disrupt it somehow… The thought came to him unbidden. But that was…

"A suicide mission," he whispered to himself. 

His gaze fell on the strange axe wielding demon, sitting atop the brood mother, lording over the procession of humanoid demons. Its unblinking gaze staring into the incursion. Alex noted the alertness, the tensed muscles, the readiness to leap into action. If he attacked, there would be no hesitation from this creature.

But what choice do I have? He sighed internally.

He glanced back towards the chaos behind him. The town was burning, their defences crumbling under the onslaught. They needed a miracle.

His hands tightened around his sword, the cold metal a familiar comfort. He had his superhuman stats, his agility, his strength. It wasn’t much against this new demon horde, and their uniformed guard, but it was all he had.

A memory fluttered into his mind. A lesson from his grandpa— his master. "Sometimes, the best strategy is not to defeat the enemy, but to disrupt their plans."

Disruption.

He eyed the procession again, the line of demon guard spilling into this world. If he could destabilise the portal, cut off reinforcements...

"Yeah," he murmured. "Disruption."

The plan was a gamble. One false step, one unnoticed move, and it would all be over. But he had to try.

He studied the route, the pillars of obsidian offering a stealthy approach. His heart began to hammer in anticipation, adrenaline already kicking in. He took a calming breath, held it, and then let it out slowly to lower his pulse. It was a practice he had used many times in his life, his grandfather having taught it to him, telling him stories of how some snipers used the same method to slow their heartbeats and increase their aim the moment before a kill. And the method had never failed him.

"Just stay alive, Alex." he muttered, a silent promise to himself.

His gaze returned to the red pillar, its light reflecting in his determined eyes. He was one man against many, and what looked like a demon lord. The odds were against him.

And yet, he only grew more excited.

His grip tightened around his sword, curiosity sparkling in his gaze. He’d face these odds, defy them. For his goals, to get back to his family, he’d face Hell itself.

His mind was set.

The red pillar continued to glow, the demonic assembly growing. Alex remained in the shadows, his sharp senses locked onto the demonic procession, attempting to decipher their alien language. His heart pounded a steady calm rhythm, the beat of a seasoned warrior, not of fear, but anticipation.

"Hail the 4th Prince," a robed demon greeted, bending in deep reverence. The 4th prince. Alex tilled, letting the information sink in. A title? His blood chilled. The peculiar demon was royalty, a prince. The demons were an organised force, and not mindless savages. It was a grim revelation, but unsurprising. 

"D'rak'ar," one demon uttered, raising a spiked claw towards the sky, "More kin, slaves and warriors shall soon join. The remaining crystals will arrive in ten minutes, along with the Mana Converter. The conquest will begin soon."

Alex's lips pressed together, processing this. Even more demons, more soldiers, and more slaves. The thought of additional crystals and the mention of a "Mana converter", it all spun a tale of imminent escalation. A sense of dread and urgency tightened in his chest, his mind churning new strategies with the implications of what he had just heard.

He would have to act fast, and soon.

"R'jdar," another demon hissed, a sneer creeping into his voice, "This has taken far too long. When your siblings arrive, things will be different. The princes and princess, they will surely cow these savages within the hour."

The prince's swift response to the mention of his siblings caught Alex’s attention. The tension in the prince's posture, the clenched jaw. He reached behind him, his demonic fingers grazing the monstrous axe strapped to his. At his touch, a pulse of force exploded from the axe, ripping through the air and severing the arm of the demon who spoke against him. A shriek of agony filled the air. The prince's red eyes burned with malice as he glared at the demon on the ground.

"Speak again, and you will lose more than your arm."

Alex's eyes narrowed. The prince's brutal display of authority sent a clear message. He was volatile, powerful, but the mention of his siblings... He turned over this new information. He has older, more capable siblings... It was another piece of the puzzle, one that weighed heavily on the strategy forming in his mind.

There's no way in hell I'm letting them into this world, Alex steeled himself with conviction.

He would need to stealthily destroy the crystal before the Prince's powerful siblings arrived. Destroying the crystal would hopefully stop the influx of demons into this world, as it seemed directly related to the number and frequency of demonic troops entering the incursion through the portal. And then he would need to swiftly escape back to the settlement's main force.

Then, and only then, could he take out the prince with Lyra and her party's help, and the rest of the settlement's warriors supporting him. 

The plan would work, and his strategy was sound.

He exhaled slowly, steadying his gaze, watching the chaos unfolding before him. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his sword, his body thrummed with the tension of the moment. The odds were daunting, but not insurmountable.

He could do this.

I can do this, he rose to his feet, poised, ready.

His eyes slid back to the prince, to the source of the incursion, and to the pulsing crystal. This was it, the pivot point of the battle. Every instinct urged him, it was time to move, time to intervene. His strategies aligned, his predictions clicked into place.

His breath steadied. His hand tightened on his sword. He had ten minutes.

And Alex stepped forward, ready to act.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 54: The Fiendish Sovereign

Three demonic forms ravaged the settlement. The smallest, Gutter Imps, were grotesque parodies of children. Their faces bore sickening grins, their eyes pools of gleeful malevolence. Each raised sharp-clawed fingers, playing with their meals in a mockery of innocent curiosity.

Then, there were the grotesque Slaughter Fiends. Tall and towering, covered in rippling muscles, they were monstrous beings. Their skins were deep crimson, and multiple eyes shone with malignant and depraved intentions. Horns curled from their foreheads, deadly crowns for deadly creatures.

Most terrifying were the Brood Mothers. They towered over the rest, hulking monstrosities of demonic flesh that walked on many legs. Their forms were twisted and contorted, sickening amalgamations of grotesque features. Their many appendages thrashed, each tipped with deadly, glistening claws, spikes, and barbs. Countless eyes glinted in the fiery light, promising doom and despair to any unfortunate enough to encounter them.

"Lady, swing left!" Alex shouted at the girl beside him, leaping toward the horde of demonic creatures that filled the section of street they found themselves in. It looked like a plaza, maybe. Alex couldn’t tell, everywhere he looked he saw demonic creatures. Lots of them. They had impeded his journey to the pillar of light, a wall of demonic flesh and flames barring his path.

And the woman. He hadn’t even noticed he had been followed until he’d heard her battle cries. He had no idea how this one lone warrior had managed to keep up with him during his stat-enhanced race through the settlement. But somehow, she had followed. He would have stopped her if he could.

His command boomed and the girl twisted in response, her broadsword whistling through the air. It made contact with the creatures around her.

The Slaughter Fiends surrounding her dispersed, collapsing to the ground in two pieces.

Well, Alex thought. At least she’s strong.

Instinct urged his fingers towards his chest, where instead of the expected warmth of skin, they brushed against the cold unyielding touch of a sword's hilt. Alex swiftly pulled the flameblade from his chest and into his Inventory, replacing its fiery light with a summoned blade of white— the Weightless blade.

[Grade F Skill: FlameBody (Active) removed!]

[Grade F Skill: WeightedBody (Active) gained!]

He turned, and plunged towards the mess of demonic creatures. Phoenix Leap took him skyward. Gutter Imps below him squealed, flailing as they crumbled under the girl's blows. “WeightedBody,” he breathed, and the world lurched, its pull intensifying. His weight shifted, increasing, gravity clawing at his heel. With a thought, a blade sprouting from the sole of his foot on command.

Down he fell.

The human comet returned to earth with a rumble, a crash, and a boom that sent blood and dust whirling. He met his target not with a stumble, but with the certainty of a hawk seizing its prey.

Two blades plunged into a Slaughter Fiend, Its knees buckled under his enhanced weight, the ground a web of cracks from the impact of his landing. The hulking mass of muscle roared, thrashing, trying to dislodge him. Its efforts were futile, a blade at Alex’s foot and another in his hand had lodged firmly in its flesh, unmoving. The demon's claws thrashed wildly as Alex shifted his blades, deliberate, poised, and precise. A Boundless Dodge, and his movements carved paths of defeat through the creature, leaving nothing but evisceration in his wake.

He landed on stone in a swirl of red and white.

"Push forward!" the girl commanded, rallying both of their morales. Before them lay what looked like a small army of horned, warped beings, filling the wide street. All they had was each other, just the two of them, facing a wall of demons, and a mess of bodies.

A swing, a duck, a dodge, and a slash. Demons fell in scores as they worked in unison. They covered each other’s gaps and openings, the girl appearing almost out of nowhere to cleave a demon in two as it attempted to ambush Alex from above.

A fresh wave of blades crashed into the demonic lines. Metal met demonic flesh. Battle cries mingled with warped screams of dying monstrosities.

Chaos. Carnage.

A glance upward. The Brood Mothers. Standing amidst the chaos, in the center of the mass of demons, untouched. Bellowing their infernal challenge.

In Alex’s mind they seemed to impose on the demons around them, their mere presence causing the lesser demons to scurry aside out of fear, or to avoid being trampled by their many legs.

They have to be worth a lot of quest contribution points, right? Alex steeled his gaze and wondered about their worth. They seemed different from the others, somehow.

He had already made his decision. And the sight of the brood mothers affirmed it. He would close the incursion, and seize the highest reward. He needed to take out the Brood Mothers. Alone. Without help. He hoped the unnamed girl would survive without him. She seemed to fare well against the lesser demons. She’s strong. She’ll be fine, he decided as determination settled upon him.

Three monstrous forms. His gaze locked onto theirs. They bellowed their challenge.

He accepted.

The first, a grotesque Brood Mother shrouded in moving shadows, wove a net of darkness around her demonic form. Sinister, almost sentient strands of abyss sought to entangle him. Somehow, he could sense the demonic beast's intentions, or more likely, it projected them towards him. It felt glee, glee at its newfound freedom and the abundance of new species to hunt. He felt a wicked joy and anticipation of hunting and killing him being projected into his mind. It was trying to instil fear in him, the fear of the hunted. The sensation enraged Alex.

He was not prey.

Phoenix Leap carried him out of the shadowy trap, moments before it clenched tight. He soared, propelling himself with the force of his magic, both his Mana Blade and Sovereign Executioner striking true from two angles, twin blades slicing through the darkness and into the heart of the beast.

It collapsed in a mess of impossible limbs as he continued to soar towards his next target.

Beneath him, the second Brood Mother, a monstrosity of living decay, roiled. She absorbed his hits, her form shuddering, wounding, then healing at a terrifying speed. Her regenerative ability was frightening, her grotesque resilience hinting at a monstrous vitality.

WeightedBody. Phoenix Leap. Alex ascended into the smoky sky, weightless, his silhouette briefly haloed by the infernal light beneath. A demigod of death. He glanced down at the battlefield; his eyes met the gaping maws of the remaining Brood Mothers. Monstrous forms of terror, exuding potent hunger.

Phoenix leap. Mana Blade. WeightedBody.

In a rush of air and crackling mana, he was plummeting back down, a comet, sword leading. His blade, enveloped in a vibrant sheen of mana, met the third of the Brood Mothers. Its surface succumbed to a weight that exceeded its own, his blade, enveloped by mana, met no resistance. The monstrosity roared, an ear-piercing sound that pounded throughout the battlefield. A thick appendage fell away from the beast, the cut so clean it barely had time to bleed before the severed limb was consumed by mana fire.

Below, a small band of warriors entered and fought the smaller broodspawn, joining Alex's female companion. This small band seemed higher level, or at least, moved faster than most of the people Alex had seen since he arrived at the town.

Still, they weren't nearly fast enough to match him. Maybe they hadn’t allocated the stats they gained from killing demons? The heat of battle made it difficult to even register system notifications. During battle, Alex completely ignored them, and he was thankful the system allowed him to do so. He didn’t want to lose his life over something as foolish as being distracted by his own notifications.

Another two warriors and a mage entered the plaza. Alex hoped they were the last of the town’s fastest citizens.

This is taking too long, frustration seeped through Alex’s armour. He couldn’t afford to have more people catch up to him. The more people that were involved in whatever it took to close the portal, the less likelihood of him receiving the top contributor prize. He wasn’t even sure if he had done enough to be rewarded as it stood. He had to end this, somehow.

And the girl was still going strong. She was a spectre of death and an angel of destruction. Alex noticed her form blurring at times, whenever she stepped from creature to creature, leaving only chunks of flesh in her wake. That’s definitely a movement skill Alex thought, realising how she had managed to follow him so closely, when he left the town’s main force using that same skill, one that probably rivalled his own.

With her excessive use of her skill, Alex guessed her mana would probably bottom out soon. Unless her stats rivalled his, too. Although, judging by what he’d seen of the people who entered the tutorial so far, he highly doubted anyone would have the levels needed to match his stats.

Well, at least she'll survive with the support of warriors and mages. Maybe he would ask for her name when this was all over.

Another Phoenix Leap. He shot upwards again, evading a swipe from the second Brood Mother that left the air ringing with the sharp scent of singed mana. As he reached the apex of his ascent, Alex took in the battlefield beneath him.

Two Brood Mothers left. And countless demonic spawn had begun pouring from one of their guts. So that explains their numbers. It was a sea of chaos. It was a sight that would break the resolve of most, but not Alex. Not after all he'd been through.

Another monster roared. The third Brood Mother, in a nest of flickering shadow and flame, directed its gaze at him. Its eyes held an unsettling intelligence. Alex felt a wave of unease as he fell towards the ground, a ripple in his wellspring of mana as something strange entered it. The Brood Mother was exerting her will, her mental prowess. She was attempting to seize control. Of him.

His Outer Focus flared, an abrupt push against the infiltrating mana, but it utterly failed to protect him as his gaze met hers. The relentless tug of her power was threatening to drown him, to bend his will. The beast's mana continued to invade.

He lost control of his limbs.

His Inner Focus sparked to life. A bulwark, a bastion of his own making. Guided by the skill, he sensed the invading mana attempting to engulf his mind and forced it out with a flex of his will, his internal mana completely under his control. He was beginning to see why this skill was rated so highly.

The dread stare broke.

His life was saved.

[Inner Focus - Mastery: 12 > 14%]

He turned his gaze, rolling away from an incoming Gutter Imp. He struck it mid-roll, his Mana blade slicing through it as easily as one would cut through a ripe melon.

A white blade erupted from his stomach mid-roll, jarring into the ground to launch him airborne.

In the corner of his vision, he saw one of the warriors twist suddenly, his face contorted in conflict. His eyes held a glassy vacant look as if he was sleepwalking, or under the thrall of the Brood Mother's domination.

The man's sword swung, but not towards the enemy.

"Damn," Alex muttered. The battlefield was turning, the odds against the warriors. He wished they hadn’t followed him here; they weren't going to make it. Ally turned away from demon to cut down ally, and Alex’s mana reserves were dwindling from the constant use of his skills.

As warriors rallied and attempted to aid him, they fell, one after the other. The third Brood Mother, encased in a shell of flaming darkness, held them under her thrall, their minds subsumed by her dominion. Alex leapt to and fro in a desperate attempt to save them, he was a vision of blades, one held in each desperate hand, his construct blinking between realities.

Phoenix leap. Sovereign Executioner. Boundless dodge. Mana Blade. WeightedBody. Phoenix leap. Phoenix leap. WeightedBody… Mana blade.

His heart clenched at the sight of his would-be saviours turning on each other.

***

The warriors' weapons sang a deadly melody, a chorus of steel, magic, and demise. It was an orchestra conducted by the demon high above. Through its tones, friend attacked friend and brother turned on brother.

The unnamed women—the strongest of them, resisted. She stumbled. Falling to her knees, onto an intricate pattern of marble tiles. Blood sprayed as her blade swept off-course, her movements hindered.

She heard Alex screaming, the roar of magic exploding around her as his construct blasted demons apart. Then…shouts of horror.

“Sacred mother, Matthias! What have you—”

Blood and pieces of armour and flesh rained down around her. A mage, felled by his allies. Her allies.

The unnamed woman heard a voice, the ring of steel, and then saw a man, his voice booming above it all. “Fall back! No!”

Imps leapt on his back to embrace white blades that erupted from his spine. The man was death made incarnate, a blade given form.

Exclamations. Ringing footfalls. Collapsing men and fiends. The man was still trying to reach them. She was kneeling, and the wild sweeping of her sword blurred her vision. Soon blood blurred it further.

But that voice—that familiar voice was still trying to save her. Still shouting.

She shouted back at him, “Leave me.”

***

Alex turned as the last of them fell. The girl. She lay on the ground, unmoving, her own brilliant sword impaling her stomach. Alex’s heart ached at the sight. He didn’t know her, but they had fought side by side against the wave of monsters. Calling out warnings, rallying each other, and saving each other’s lives. He had felt connected to her, somehow. At the sight of her unmoving form, his lip trembled. So he bit his lip, trying to fight back the swell of his emotions. His grip on his sword faltered. And he struggled to raise it.

It was futile. They were all dead.

He was alone, again.

A smaller demon screeched and lunged. Alex side-stepped and slashed, his body moving on instinct, his mind vacant. His heart pounded painfully as his lips tightened. He forced back the tears he felt swelling and raised his sword, viewing the remaining beasts around him.

Later, he decided. He would deal with the pain later.

Alone, he faced the onslaught.

Two Brood Mothers. Countless demons. All his allies had perished. The main force of the settlement lay far behind him. His mana, the cornerstone of his abilities, was all but depleted. Yet his will to survive remained bruised, damaged, but unbroken.

His breaths came in low, steady bursts as he fought to calm and center himself. But instead, at the sight of his fallen allies, a cool rage began to bubble within him.

Alex's eyes darted from one enemy to the next. The brood mothers towered over the rest, waves of their psychic assault pounding in his skull. The demonic matriarchs circled him like vultures as the air crackled with their psychic energy. His skin tingled from the raw mana they continuously exuded as they sought to flay his mind, to scorch his very soul.

One skill. He only had enough mana for one final skill use.

He chose "Mana Burn."

[Mana burn (Duration: 30 sec): slowly Burns through the caster's entire mana pool to double stats for a short period]

[Due to insufficient mana, all skills will be disabled during use.]

Alex stared at the additional notification. “Fuc-”

His vision blurred as he channelled the last remnants of his mana into the skill. His muscles coiled tight as the surge of magic rushed through him, infusing every part of his being and inflating all of his stats. His mana flared violently, and his body shook as the final dregs of his mana were consumed. In the blink of an eye, the remaining trickle of his mana vanished. His stats, however, soared.

Time slowed.

His agility, speed, and intelligence had doubled, and the movement of the beings around him blurred into a slow-motion tableau. Over 1000 collective stats became over 2000, 300 dexterity became 600, and just under 400 intelligence became just under 800. In the heart of battle's maelstrom, Alex's pulse became steady. The Brood Mothers' once swift attacks now lumbered towards him like underwater specters. A lesser demon lunged at him.

He dodged. Easily.

His body twisted mid-air, his boosted agility carrying him out of the creature’s reach. The attack missed, grazing only embers. The creature, caught off balance, staggered forward. Alex landed lightly on his feet.

He punched.

With his doubled strength, his fist connected with the low-levelled demon's chest. The impact was colossal. Demonic gore sprayed in every direction. The surrounding demons stuttered, a forest of damned that witnessed the creature's lifeless body flung backwards, barrelling into its comrades.

A Brood Mother lunged.

Her razor-sharp claws cut through the air. Faster than the rest. He could feel the heat radiating off her as she drew near. His hand tightened around his sword. His heart beat a staccato as he focused.

He parried.

Metal met demonic claw in a clash of wills. He felt the vibration of contact travel up his arm. His boosted endurance allowed him to withstand the blow, the claw sliding off his blade to only scratch his skin.

He struck.

His kendo training flowed through his veins. His blade followed a swift path, cleaving through the Brood Mother's flesh. She screeched, as blood, organs, and unborn eggs sprayed across the battlefield.

She fell.

The battlefield held its breath as the remaining Brood Mother roared, the ground beneath them quaking with the beast's fury. Countless demons turned their fiery eyes on him. Enthralled. They charged with suicidal abandon.

Alex fought.

He felt the ground tremble at their steps and the air shift at the subtlest of their movements. He saw the sounds of their fiendish screams, creating shockwaves that painted a hellish image. He sensed them from all angles and for the briefest moment, he felt omnipotent.

His body moved on its own accord. Each swing of his sword sent a demon to its death. Every block, every dodge, every counter was executed with enhanced precision. The carnage was unfathomable. Dark demonic blood, guts, and viscera bubbled and scorched the street in waves.

The second Brood Mother advanced.

Her psychic waves were a tsunami against his mind. He grunted, pushing back against her assault. But he was failing. His movements faltering. Soon he would be overwhelmed and under its complete control.

His blade rose once again, the cold metal flashing under the crimson sky. His arm twitched against his will.

He lunged.

The ground exploded behind him as his blade cut through the Brood Mother like a knife through butter. She didn't even have time to screech before her lifeless body hit the ground. The battlefield fell silent. He stood alone, a titan amid the carnage.

He breathed.

His enhanced stats faded as Mana Burns' duration ended. His body screamed with exhaustion, but he ignored it. He stood tall amidst the plethora of fallen demons, his solitary figure bathed burgundy in boiling blood and the ghostly light of the surrounding flames.

The red pillar of light still loomed in the distance. And a slew of notifications he had ignored during the battle assaulted him.

[You have defeated level 65 Astral BroodMother - additional experience points due to the level difference]

[You have defeated level 63 Astral BroodMother - additional experience points due to the level difference]

[You have defeated…

[You have defeated…

[You have defeated…

[Level 50 > 60]

[Strength +40, Dexterity+40, intelligence+60, unassigned stats +40]

A soft flash of light, and a red crystal landed some distance behind him, its soft clinks sending ripples through the air.

A skill crystal? Alex laughed dejectedly at the irony of receiving something so useful while he had no mana to use it. Maybe the people of this planet were right about the system after all.

He stepped over some of the remains of Brood Mothers and beasts, his path lit by the red pillar of light. His journey was far from over.

He walked.

Into the heart of the incursion.

Soul of Blades - chapter 53: Demonic Mastery

A cry pierced the settlement. Alex skidded around a corner to a stop. There, an armoured woman was trapped under fallen debris. Her eyes locked onto his.

One quick glance. Nothing around. He lunged forward.

Muscles strained under the weight of the wreckage. The woman scrambled free, tears streaming down her ash-covered face as she recovered her weapon. A nod of thanks. A shared glance of understanding. Time was a luxury they didn’t have. He was off again.

The light from the red beam grew stronger. The world was on fire.

A handful of people in the distance. Twenty, maybe? Engaged in battle with a monstrosity. A towering demon, horns scraping the sky, eyes a maddening, bloodshot red. People scattered, tripped, fell. The stench of death was in the air.

His eyes took in the scene quickly. Desperate faces, swords clashing against the hide of the demon, and bodies littering the ground. They were losing. His chest tightened with realisation. The smell of fear and death was overwhelming. Magic raced through the street, buildings had begun to burn, But there was something else – a spark of resistance.

One warrior, brawny and brave, lunged at the demon. He was swept aside.

A maiden, her eyes ablaze with defiance, charged, only to be smacked away.

A mage, distant and aged, unleashed spells that fizzled harmlessly against the demon's hide.

They needed help.

Alex activated Phoenix Leap, his form a blur of speed and movement. Propelled through the air, he landed among the chaos and observed, hidden amongst the rubble for a heartbeat.

The ground trembled beneath the demon's monstrous steps. It was a beast, a devil, a godless creature of destruction. Its size dwarfed the warriors around it. Its eyes were level with the roofs of the surrounding buildings.

Alex watched the turmoil, cloaked in the shadows of destruction, the bronze blade poised and ready, aimed at the creature's distant eye. Mana coursed through him, a tide swelling, then pouring into the metal, consumed by the bronze blade to imbue it with purpose. It shot forward at speed.

In the span of a heartbeat, the blade transformed, extending far beyond its original form. It instantly matched a greatsword's reach, still extending, then the length of a spear, then a pike, until it surpassed any known blade in length. A bronze streak cut across the battlefield, a fleeting comet against the dusk.

The demon, its attention snagged by the blur of movement, turned its head, sending the blade crashing into skin and not sclera. As the sword met hide, a shower of sparks erupted, the weapon deflected by the sheer toughness of its hide, veering off course. Alex cursed under his breath at the sight.

“The hard way it is.” He muttered in irritation before settling into a stance.

Alex took a moment, an infinitesimal pause. He decided to try something different. Inner Focus kicked in as he tapped into the ever-present sensation of the skill to delve deep within— to observe the workings of his internal mana, something he had overlooked until now. The world slowed at the strange sensations. He felt the pulse and movement of his mana, the rhythm of his magic.

“Mana Blade.”

The skill activated at his words, accompanied by a surge of power burst from his heart, the sheen of the impossibly sharp edge. His blade, now much more than just an extension of his arm, flared with brilliant mana. His fingers tightened around the hilt as he sensed the magic flowing through him and into his weapon.

Sharpening it further.

Alex launched himself forward. Time blurred around him as he flew through the air, his blade ready to strike. It met with the demon's skin, an orchestra of sparks flying off. He rebounded, using the momentum to retreat.

It bellowed in pain and surprise. Its eyes locked onto Alex, a new threat amidst the chaos.

His mana continued to dwindle. He couldn't keep this skill up for long. Inner focus told him he had about seventy percent of mana left.

He hadn't known it could do that.

Boundless Dodge. He danced around a swipe of the demon's claws, his body moving at an impossible speed. There was a shockwave where he had just stood. The impact of pressurised and heated air sent him flying.

He landed some distance away in a crumpled heap, his high endurance absorbing the brunt of the damage. He groaned as he sat up and looked forward and made to re-enter the fray.

A brawny man launched a savage attack on the demon but was effortlessly swatted away. Undeterred, a courageous woman charged forward, only to be thrown back by a single swipe of the demon's claw. A wave of heat billowed outward, pushing all of them back, as an old mage raised a strange staff and released a burst of magic. It petered out harmlessly against the demon's resilient hide.

Each blow they landed was met with a shrug. Each spell, a dismissive wave. Their numbers were dwindling; some lay wounded, others exhausted. The tide of the battle was not in their favour.

"Mana Blade," Alex muttered. A blue glow enveloped his blade, humming with deadly energy. He dashed towards the demon. Boundless Dodge activated. A boulder flung his way exploded into dust as he slipped past it like a gust of wind.

Wham!

His blade slashed against the demon’s armour-like skin. A roar, an angry backhand, and Alex was thrown back once more, a Phoenix Leap halted his tumble.

He shook off the dizziness and entered a stance. Time to double down.

A thought, and his bronze blade disappeared, stored in his inventory. Another, and ‘Weightless’ the white blade replaced it, its weight-controlling form settling into his fingers.

His senses sharpened. He focused on the sensations of his new passive skills. Inner Focus. Outer Focus. The mana within him, the mana of the world, he could feel it all. His blade was once more an extension of his will, a channel for the universe's truths. He could see how the demon's mana fortified its skin.

And where it was weakest.

But even as he rallied, Alex could feel a terrifying amount of mana building within the demon. His Outer Focus tingled with warning. He moved.

high into the sky, he flew. His weightless blade shone white, a beacon amidst the fallen, a light to split the red sea. The blade Increased in density with each moment of his long swing.

In an elegant, fluid arc, he struck again. “Mana Blade” he spoke words that spelled death. As the skill took hold, using inner focus, he urged more mana to pack into the blade, to escape through his palm until the blade began to emit a bright, almost blinding light. A boom, the sound of a mana-bound sword as heavy as ships meeting flesh as hard as anchors. His sword, shining with intensity, carved a swath through the demon's defences. A moment of surprise flashed in the demon’s eyes. Then, a piercing scream ripped across the battlefield, and the demon reeled back, wounded.

A notification flashed before him, another discovery.

[Mana Blade - Mastery: 0 > 5%]

[Inner Focus - Mastery: 0 > 12%]

[Outer Focus - Mastery: 0 > 12%]

Huh. That was new. Alex wondered what would happen when it reached full mastery.

A cheer rose from the ragged defenders, interrupting his musings. Their spirit reignited, they lunged back into the fray, the promise of victory within their reach.

Not good. He couldn’t and wouldn’t let them steal his prize.

In the crowd, Alex spotted a familiar face. Lyra, she seemed to lack stats but still moved with expert precision, untouchable. He could tell she was a seasoned warrior. Her lips parted in a battle cry, drawing the demon’s attention. A broadsword swung in her grasp, cutting down smaller demons.

He took a breath and leapt again, landing amidst the battle-weary warriors. A brute with a great axe stood his ground, attempting to cleave through the giant demon's thick hide, only to be thrown back by the sheer force of the demon's counter.

Then a younger mage, staff ablaze, let loose a volley of searing fireballs towards the demon. Yet, the spell seemed to do little more than annoy the behemoth, who swatted the magic away like irritating flies.

With the large demon distracted, Alex's blade slashed through the air, a tangible line of mana in its wake. He deactivated his skill pre-emptively. No enhanced sharpness from Mana Blade, no, not now. His strike aimed to hurt, not to kill.

Frustration rumbled through the demon, its attention divided between the swarm of defenders and Alex. A chance. A risky, potentially foolish chance. But a chance.

Barely a moment's hesitation and Alex concentrated on the sensations of Inner Focus. His senses narrowed, turning inward, pinpointed onto his own mana. Its warmth, its pulse, its... potential. The battlefield noises dimmed, leaving only the resonance of his own power.

"Your turn, big guy," Alex muttered, leaping towards the monstrous demon, blade ready.

Centering himself, he invoked his Dao of True Immortality, a deep connection to the universe flowing through him. With each breath, each pulse of his heart, he was one with the life, death, and change of the world around him.

He moved in again, his blade humming with his Dao's essence, it seemed to shift in the light, changing. The demon, perhaps sensing something, turned to face him. As it turned its tail swept powerfully in an arc to knock back the defenders.

Their eyes met.

The demon charged.

Boundless dodge. Alex sidestepped. His blade cut a luminous arc through the air. The Dao-infused strike bit into the demon's thigh.

Blood spurted. The demon roared.

Next, it was the arm. Sovereign Executioner. His blade cut through sinew and bone. The executioner pierced its eye. The demon's mana-infused and hardened skin shifted away from his Dao on contact.

The demon shrieked.

Their struggle drew attention. The fallen soldiers looked on, their eyes widening in disbelief.

But the demon was not defeated yet. It lashed out with wild abandon. A woman went down, her side gashed open. A brawny man collapsed next, a cry tearing from his lips. The wizard's spells grew weaker and weaker as it rampaged. They were losing ground.

Alex’s gaze never left the demon. It charged again.

This time, his blade found the demon’s chest. His blade had sunk deep into the demon's chest and continued up to his elbow. The resistance, the eventual surrender of flesh and bone to his weapon, to his will, brought a chilling satisfaction.

It was over.

The demon's fall reverberated across the battlefield, a palpable wave of shock and disbelief among the fighters.

They had won.

He had won.

[You have defeated level 62 Astral Demonfiend: incomplete variant - additional experience points due to the level difference]

[Level 41 > Level 50]

[Strength +36, Dexterity+36, intelligence+54, unassigned stats +36]

He dumped his free stats equally into endurance, strength and dexterity. Each stat would be crucial for what was to come.

[Name: Alex Ironwood

Level: 50

Race: Human - Rank F

Primary Class: ̷̷͎̠̠̖̳̮̿́̏̄͝͠Sys̵̞̈́͆̓̓te̸̪̟͇͕͂mic SwO̷̟̮̙͚̔rd So̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅve̶̷̵̴̲̳̱reign

Sub-class: Locked

Strength: 277 (191)

Dexterity: 306 (211)

Endurance: 128 (88)

Intelligence: 386 (266)

Wisdom: 41 (28)

Feats: First Encounter, Pioneer, Pinnacle IV, Survivor, Warrior, Champion

Active skills: Phoenix Leap, Mana Burn, Mana Blade, Boundless Dodge, Duȅ̷̳̮̄͝͠l of C̷͎̠̠̖̿́orruption, Sovereign Executioner, FlameBody,

Passive skills: Inner Focus, Outer Focus, A̷̶̵̴̲̳̱l̸̢͉̗̣̑͐͛à̸̶̵̴̶̷̶̺̥̮̯͇̲̳̱̼̲͒̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̸̴̶̷̵̢̳̮̲̳̱͉̗̣̲̳̱̏̄̑͐͛͝͠Ω̴̵̶̷̲̳̱ ̶̶̯͇̼̲̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̴̶̷̵̳̮̲̳̱̲̳̱̏̄͝͠g̵̶̷̴̲̳̱e̸̪̟͇͕͂e̶̷̵̴̲̳̱E̵̴̶̷̶̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̢̲̳̱̼̲̲̳̱̟̮̙͚͉̗̣̺̥̮͋͐͋͂̔̑͐͛̀͒ͅͅ ̶̷̶̴̵̶̷̯͇̲̳̱̈́̈͛ ̷̸̴̶̷̵̳̮̪̟͇͕̲̳̱̏̄͂͝͠M̷̶̵̴̲̳̱m̸̵̴̶̷̸̷̸̴̶̷̵̢͉̗̣̲̳̱̪̟͇͕̟̮̙͚̺̥̮̲̳̱̑͐͛͂̔̀͒ͅ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̸̶̢̳̮͉̗̣̼̲̏̄̑͐͛͋͐͋͂͝͠ͅO̷̟̮̙͚̔o̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅᾯ̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̸̢̲̳̱̲̳̱̟̮̙͚̪̟͇͕͉̗̣̺̥̮̑͐͛̀͒ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̶͎̠̠̖̼̲̿́͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠ ̷̶̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̴̶̷̵̲̳̱̲̳̱̲̳̱, Inventory, Bestial Senses, BladeBody,

Dao: True Immortality - 0.06% Progress

Unassigned stat points: 0]

As Alex felt the warm rush of stat increase engulf him, surprised by the wealth of growth. The first time he had defeated something 200% levels higher than him— at twice his level, the system had only given him an increase of 5 level-ups. Now, he had just defeated something 150% his level but had experienced an increase of 9 levels. The only reasoning that made sense was that while defeating higher-level enemies would net him more experience, the higher his level became, the more experience he would need to level up. And if he wanted to avoid any penalties, he would have to do it alone. If that were true, it would mean the most efficient route to power would be to constantly seek out equal or higher-level opponents.

“Astral Demonfied…Incomplete?” he muttered, studying the fading panel. He found himself wondering, If that monster was an ‘incomplete variant’, then what would a real, complete one be like? How strong would it be?

Maybe he should close the incursion as soon as possible.

He wasn't quite sure how, but he knew the answer lay in the center of the pillar of light.

He pressed on, past the crowds of injured warriors, past the groups congratulating him, even past Lyra's call to arms. Forward, he moved, towards the center of the inferno, the pillar. His enhanced stats turned him into a blur amongst the flames.

With each step he took, the knot in his gut, the bad feeling he’d had this whole time, ever since the quest notification, grew stronger.

There was something in the center of the hellscape.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 52: Body of Blades

Alex watched as a horde of figures, a maelstrom of red with flecks of white and black, swarmed into the town, now awash in a deep, ominous red. Explosions of light and flame erupted in their wake, walls buckled, and buildings crumbled beneath their onslaught. Among the chaos, the town's inhabitants clashed with the invaders, some fighting back fiercely, while others were swiftly overrun. Towering entities loomed over the fray, some rivalling the town's structures in height, with others so massive that rooftops barely brushed their necks.

He immediately summoned the bronze blade into his open palm. A weapon capable of increasing its length would be useful when facing the deadly waves of creatures. Alex crouched and placed a hand on the stone beneath, sensing his surroundings through the tremors in the ground. His mind was a blur of options. Within seconds, Alex mentally assessed the tools available to him.

He had just gained the ability to infuse his body with an endless amount of weapon enchantments. But I can merge with only one at a time for now. Which one would be the most useful?

He had the queen's golden blade that could shoot wickedly sharp metal shards.

The bronze blade that could stretch as long as a spear, or further depending on the amount of mana he injected into it.

Weightless, the blade that increased in weight the faster it was swung. That would be good for crowd control.

The FlameBlade, that could sear through flesh and bone with little resistance.

And his crystal blade that could steal any energy it came in contact with, though he was loath to use it in front of any prying eyes.

The energy-stealing limitless blade would be useful for its ability to co-opt any energy it came in contact with. But I would have to come into contact with the energy first, Alex thought with concern. That could mean having to get hit. Eventually he would have to find a way around that, but it wouldn’t help him now. Instead, he assessed the remaining options available to him.

He chose the FlameBlade for the instant defence and counter it would offer once stored within his body. The rest of his blades could be wielded with his hands, pulled from his inventory at a moment's notice, but none of them offered such a searing deterrent as the FlameBlade.

Alex sensed a gathering of mana in his chest, a venerable storm, a maelstrom of raging mana that rippled and bucked in his vision. It centred at his heart and extended to the surface of his chest. It seemed only those who could detect mana could sense it, but to Alex, it appeared as a beacon. The new instincts embedded by the skill told him to place a sword there, and that something significant would happen, but the thought seemed alien to Alex’s lifetime of experiences. Now or never, he thought. It had only been a second since his consciousness returned, but it was a second he couldn’t afford to waste.

Experimentally, he placed the tip of his FlameBlade against his chest, right above his heart as if to pierce himself. Following his new instincts, he tentatively pushed against the skin and witnessed his sword seamlessly vanish into the depth of his heart and disperse, breaking down to become one with his mana and flesh, infusing him. There was no pain, only the sensation of the sword dissolving and its essence spreading through him, merging with his mana, becoming part of his very essence.

[Grade F Skill: FlameBody (Active) gained!

So, I’ve got a hell of a lot of magical blades, defensive gear, my skills, and the Dao. Mana Burn and Duel of Corruption are out, depending on how strong the creatures are being without mana could be a death sentence.

The Dao’s probability cut is powerful but a double-edged sword, that's out too. His Dao’s most powerful attack would leave him spent and vulnerable, but the Dao was endlessly versatile. It would be exceptionally useful, but each use bore its toll. It was best saved for whatever boss lay at the centre of the incursion. He would only use it if he found himself without options.

And my sense skills will help with being surrounded.

Alright, let's do this.

***

Alex instantly leapt to his feet, his hand gripping the hilt of his summoned sword. He looked at Mira and John, both kneeling from the shockwave yet ready and eager to race into the fray. “Be careful.” He said. “Don’t die, and stay safe.” He shifted from one to the other. Their gazes met, and each nodded, their grips tightening on summoned weapons as they too rose to their feet.

Lyra soon followed "Finn, take the others and head for shelter.” She ordered, “Try to save as many people as you can. I'm going to try and draw their attention."

She turned to Alex, “Help them. Or flee. Or fight. I won't ask you to do anything you're not prepared to”

Alex scoffed. Does she really think I would give up on all the levels, and that reward? He thought.

He didn’t bother with a response, he simply smirked and leapt.

They split. Alex charged toward the red light. The others veered off in different directions under Lyra's orders. The red pillar of light in the distance swelled. Flames licked the sky. In only a moment, the area around the pillar of light had turned into a hellscape. Alex's sprint was a blur against the fiery chaos.

A woman, clutching her child, stumbled out of a flaming building into his path. A deep growl rumbled through a close by creature Alex could only describe as a demon. It lunged at the woman and child, jaws open in hunger. Alex intercepted, a whirling blade of fury. His flaming sword met the demon’s flesh with a sickening crunch. Ichor splattered, bubbling heat where it landed. A notification appeared, ignored without time.

“Run!” He pointed the path for her.

He fired himself off the ground, Phoenix Leap ripping him through the smoke's cover. His feet connected with nothing but air, his body riding on surges of raw mana.

He saw a man locked in combat, a demon behind him. He pointed the weapon and felt his bronze blade greedily connect with his body’s mana, like a starving child reaching for an oasis. His Inner Sense skill felt mana surging through him to ignite within the hungry blade, a soft hum visible to him alone. A flex of his will, and the blade stretched, shooting forward with unflattering aim.

A blur of elongation. Alex saw a flash of bronze, then red—then he heard an ear-piercing shriek.

The demon split. The blade touched it and its flesh parted like felled trees. It split into a whirl of red. Alex shifted aim, at the remaining demon locked in battle with the man.

Shadows shifted above as demons leapt from the surrounding rooftops, all intent on eviscerating the lone civilian locked in combat. The demons descended as if the night itself had taken form, cloaking the sky in their number.

Phoenix Leap, Boundless Dodge, Sovereign Executioner. Alex moved.

He cut between them, his sword slicing the first creature down, its flesh parting with the ease of a calm sea cleaved by a ship’s prow. In the same instance the apparition of the sovereign executioner appeared, stepping into reality above him, his movements mirrored. A swing, and the executioner's sword became the final word in a dialogue of violence, cutting short two of the demon's unchecked rage. With perfectly mirrored movements, the construct's ceremonial blade cleaved the two from the air, sending their infernal pieces falling to the ground in rains of gore.

At his back, a shadow, heat, waves of sound, and vibrations caused the hair on Alex’s neck to stand in alarm.

He sensed the air shift and the temperature spike behind him. He saw it clearly as if looking through a window; behind him, a creature with rippling muscles, long black teeth— impossibly sharp, and blood-dripped horns, descended on his neck, jaws wide open. It was milliseconds away from cleaving through his spine.

FlameBody, he thought, triggering his latest skill with a word.

The first blade emerged from his skin, not with pain, but as a natural extension of his being. The metal felt cool, seamless with his flesh—a literal part of him now. It felt like moving an arm. all he had to do was think, and the blade would appear. Like flexing a muscle he’d never known existed. The blade erupted from his back, through a gap in his armour,

Then it ignited.

It blazed with light and heat to meet no resistance, slicing through the creature's maw with ease. The dying fiend shrieked in pain and rage before its voice cut off forever.

Dead creatures fell from the sky, as Alex and the lone civilian warrior stood, one stood huffing in exhaustion, head raised to meet his saviour’s gaze. No words were exchanged, but a nod of understanding passed between them before the man disappeared into the darkness, stronger than he had once been.

Alex turned to face the pillar of light and headed deeper, towards the center. The flames and smoke of broken structures blurred past him with each step, as he raced closer to the distant and towering figures obscured by smoke. Each was larger than the last.

Alex pressed forward, undeterred, eyes fixed on the distant pillar of light.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 51: Bladed Hunter

A wave of pressure exploded from the incursion point, sending all who witnessed its birth sprawling to the ground. Alex knelt and braced, but the shockwave still shook his bones, sending him sliding back across the floor before coming to a stop, the impact forcing him to stabilise his position with a blade stabbed into the stone and earth. He rose before the others to witness the inevitable.

The centre of the red light had transformed into a menacing gateway, and from its depths, demonic-looking creatures began to spill into the settlement. Some large enough to see in detail, even from a distance. They were grotesque and formidable, an embodiment of power and heat, with their monstrous visages, horned muscular bodies, and powerful frames.

Without hesitation, he summoned the remaining skill crystal into his open palm, determined to test his latest class skill.

“Assimilate Nexus.” He studied the crystal curiously as he spoke, feeling mana surge within him to connect with the crystal before the world shifted and faded to black once more.

[System Message: Choose one of 2 Skills]

[F-Grade Skill 1: Deadly Flesh (Passive): permanently store a single weapon of your choosing within the caster's body. The weapon will fuse with the caster's body, able to be physically summoned to sprout from the caster's flesh, at any location in the caster's body. High levels of mastery will allow the caster to transform body parts into replicas of the stored weapon.

[F-Grade skill 2: Cyclone Shield (Active - Duration: 30 seconds): Creates a protective barrier of swirling winds. Winds defend and deflect from all angles with increased speed. High levels of mastery may allow redirection and longer cast times.]

Then, the holographic panel turned blood-red. A jumbled mess of glyphs across it, a confusing mess of symbols that made no sense. His heart skipped a beat as he saw the familiar phenomenon. A barely decipherable crimson message appeared before him.

[- ̶̯͇̈́̈͛Error- ̶̯͇̈́̈͛g̶̢̅̓͛͝nità̸̺̥̮͒ͅlimis̷̱̑̽̂̚s̷̸̯̲̺̟͈̅͐͌͜͝ǎ̴̂͗̅ͅ… ̶̯͇̈́̈͛]

[Target Primary Class: ̷̷͎̠̠̖̳̮̿́̏̄͝͠Sys̵̞̈́͆̓̓te̸̪̟͇͕͂mic SwO̷̟̮̙͚̔rd So̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅve̶̷̵̴̲̳̱reign]

Then, the jumbled text settled and the skills reappeared, both altered and enhanced to match his class.

They were wildly different.

[System Message: Choose one of 2 Skills]

[F-Grade Class Skill 1: BladeBody (Passive): The sovereign is one with the sword, transcending all limitations. Grants the ability to store blades of the caster's choosing within their body. Enchantments held by stored blades will be granted to the caster as active skills. Stored blades will fuse with the caster's body, able to be physically summoned to sprout from the caster's flesh, at any location in the caster's body. Blades can be exchanged and swapped or removed by the caster. High levels of mastery will allow the caster to store an increased number of weapons, enchantments, and higher-ranked blades. Current Blade slots: 1. Current Enchantment slots: 1

[F-Grade Class skill 2: BladeShield (Active - Duration: 30 seconds): The sovereign commands every Blade, the edge of their existence dependent on the sovereign’s beck and call. Creates a protective barrier of swirling Blades. Swords defend autonomously, preventing any without permission from entering the caster's range. The created swords defend, block, slice, and deflect from all angles, obliterating obstacles, and carving the earth with increased speed. High levels of mastery may allow redirection, control, offensive capabilities, and longer cast times.]

Hovering in the vast, silent expanse of his own mind, Alex faced the decision between two distinct routes to facing the impending calamity., each bursting with potential in the metaphysical space before him.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to deliberate. The reward is all that matters, he reminded himself. No matter what, he would have to be the sole person to close the incursion. It would be his first opportunity to see an item of a higher grade.

With the clock to the town's doom ticking, he reviewed his options.

His thoughts immediately shifted to BladeShield. "A barrier made of swords... that could give crucial breathing room in a fight," he speculated, imagining how it could fend off multiple attackers simultaneously. In his mind's eye, he saw it. Blades, mana-bound and ethereal, yet vividly present, would orbit around him. Each summoned blade bearing protection for its caster and danger for his enemies. He saw himself watching with fascination as the summoned swords moved with precision, a legion of steel encasing him and eviscerating attackers.

"Just thirty seconds," Alex noted, the duration of the skill imprinting itself in his consciousness.

Thirty seconds of being untouchable, assuming nothing is strong enough to break the weapons, I’d have swords flying around me like I'm the centre of a metal storm. That's got a certain 'don't mess with me' flair to it. It seemed well-suited to his present situation, but there was a crucial element that held the potential to limit the skill's usefulness. The limitation on the skill's duration, though… that could be a problem, he thought, plagued by indecision. It would only last 30 seconds. Once those thirty seconds are up, it's back to vulnerability. It was a sobering thought.

And then there was the prospect of a cooldown. All skills with duration periods seemed to be accompanied by cooldowns or activation conditions, like the Immortal Mamluk skill. In this instance, the panel held no detail on the BladeShield skill’s cooldown length; it could be three minutes, or thirty.

Trigger it too early, and I'm left exposed. Too late, and it might not beat them all...maybe at higher stages it’d have a low cooldown time, but I need to know what the exact number is right now, he thought with concerned impatience. When surrounded by innumerable creatures, each deadlier than the last and eager for your blood, even a single second could make the difference between victory and death. The uncertainty gave him pause.

Next, Alex ran his mental fingers over the prospect of BladeBody. "The number of swords and enchantments it stores is bound to increase with mastery, otherwise it wouldn’t have shown me a number at all. Eventually, all the swords I've collected would actually become a part of me," he realized, considering each of his possessed weapons’ unique enchantments.

Contemplating the BladeBody skill, he envisioned the seamless integration of steel and sinew it would allow. The first blade appeared in his mind’s eye, not summoned to his hand, or his previously defenceless flank, but emerging from it, the metal merging with flesh in a display of harmony between man and weapon.

BladeBody means the more swords I get, the better I can be. But BladeShield could give instant protection. What's going to keep me alive longer? What’s going to conquer the dungeon?

While BladeShield would only last 30 seconds, plus the undisclosed cooldown period, BladeBody’s activation could potentially last forever. As far as causing blades to shoot from his body was concerned. That aspect of the skill paired well with his Sovereign Executioner skill, he would be able to attack and defend from multiple directions. There was the possibility that as a passive, summoning blades from his body wouldn’t even have a mana cost, as long as he didn’t use the associated active skill.

Alex weighed the options, focusing on power over practical survival. His earliest encounter with an Incursion had taught him that survival only took you so far. Power was all that mattered.

He found himself leaning towards BladeBody.

"Storing swords in my body, huh?" Alex thought, attempting to picture the skill a final time. On the surface, it didn’t seem much different from the way he used the inventory skill, although it presented much more versatility and routes of attack. But that wasn’t where the skill would shine.

It was the enchantments.

Enchantments held by any stored blade would grant him additional skills, while stored blades could be swapped and interchanged with others. The more swords I find, the stronger I potentially become….That meant that as long as he held a collection of enchanted blades, he could have an endless amount of skills, each granting him the weapon’s enchantment.

But how does that work? He wondered, unsure. If I stored the bronze blade, would it let me stretch my limbs? Or would its enchantment extend to any sword or item I hold?

He hoped it would be both.

[Grade F Class Skill: BladeBody (Passive) selected!]

To become one with steel was to embrace the path of the blade. For a brief moment, Alex felt happy with his decision. It felt right.

The Moment was brief as he immediately felt his thoughts being pulled from the black space in a blur of rapidly increasing rates of time. His consciousness returned, he opened his eyes to a horde of descending creatures and found himself distracted, looking up toward the pillar of red light that parted the sky, a harbinger of the town's end.

It was a symbol of death, but not his. It stood in his way.

So it had to go.

It was starting to be such a nice day as well. He thought, eyeing the countless creatures ahead. The levels he would get from facing them would be… notable. Perhaps his day would get even nicer?

He smirked, his teeth bathed in red.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 50: The Dungeon

[System Message: Choose one of 2 Skills]

[F-grade Skill 1: Immortal Mamluk (Passive): The Sovereign systemically conquers all, and rules all. the soul of your greatest foe will be pulled from the wheel of samsara and shackled to yours, its spirit forever bound to reside within your shadow. It will become your personal assassin, acting as an immediate layer of defense during the day, able to absorb damage in your place,  while being able to be summoned completely into the world at night, or in the sun's absence. This assassin, armed with duplicates of weapons held at death, will fight for a limited duration, its skill and strength reflecting the user’s mastery level. Peak mastery allows for the summoning of an elite assassin of the same soul, armed with peak statistics to further enhance combat effectiveness.

[F-grade Skill 2: Assimilate Nexus (Active): To the true sovereign, laws, rules, and boundaries are merely suggestions, easily broken. Grants the user the ability to subvert the system's skill granting processes to corrupt skill crystals and assimilate them to your class, changing their nature and how they function, and increasing their capabilities through assimilation. All altered skills will be twisted to relate to your class; designated “systemic sword sovereign.” All skill crystals of the same grade or lower may be affected. Can be utilized during the skill selection process. Peak mastery and understanding will increase the skill’s grade, leading to the assimilation of higher grade skills.] 

Alex floated, serenely drifting in a sea of endless black. The unseen ink of possibility engulfed him from all sides, observing as he considered his first option.

Alex eyed the status panel before him with extreme scrutiny, analyzing the contents of the first class skill it presented. The system had identified it as the ‘Immortal Mamluk’. He found the skill tempting.

The skill would grant him a permanent ally, an assassin that resided permanently within his shadow. The skill enveloped him in a vision of power and conquest. It was clear to him who his greatest foe to date had been, by leagues. She had been stronger and faster than him, and her expertise with Aura could potentially transform his dueling skill, turning it into a cheat like ability if her spirit was to remain summoned. Her endurance might not have amounted to much, but at the very least the assassin could absorb one blow during the daytime, and unleash hell at night. He doubted that there would be any on the entire planet that could face the two of them. But that’s only true right now, Alex thought, who knows what the future could hold? The description isn’t clear on power scaling. What if by the time I’m level 200, the spirit is still level 56? Or if its stats are tied to the skilll’s mastery, what if it’s impossible to master? I’d still be stuck with something much weaker than me. While all of those things were true, there was another element that caused Alex to find the skill somewhat disturbing, if not completely so. The description said her spirit would be bound to his shadow, forever enslaved. Deep down he had felt uncomfortable with killing her, but he had steeled his heart to do what a lifetime combat dictated had to be done. In combat hesitation got you killed, and a lack of due diligence could be fatal. Her final transformation had driven that fact home.  But now, in the aftermath, he found himself questioning the necessity of his actions. Perhaps he would meet others deserving of such a fate. But to enslave her after that felt… excessive. 

And besides, he was more concentrated on reaching the peak of sword mastery, alongside improving his physical capabilities. 

Still, the skill was powerful and tempting. It held the potential to make him truly uncontested in combat.

He moved on to the second skill; Assimilate Nexus.

The skill was huge, with endless possibilities. It could potentially be capable of pushing the boundaries of his class, far beyond the classes original purpose. With this skill, Alex envisioned a realm of limitless possibilities, where he could reshape and enhance his abilities to suit his need, with each skill aligned perfectly with his journey through the blade. The ability to customize and adapt skill crystals, integrating them seamlessly into his repertoire could afford him unparalleled versatility in combat.

Assimilate Nexus required specific conditions to activate. According to the skill’s description, he would need a skill crystal to even use it, which could be a problem. Aside from the remaining one in his possession, and the other that would apparently drive any who used it to madness, he had no idea how to get more. There was also the risk of skills becoming worse. The unpredictable nature of ‘Assimilate Nexus’ had caused Alex to pause in consideration. Altering a skill could potentially cause it to have less utility, or even lead to the very element that made a skill desirable being removed entirely. What if a multipurpose support, attack, and defense skill like ‘Phoenix Leap’ became a simple attack skill? like a ‘Phoenix Slash’ or something of the sort. It would render the skill practically useless as far as defense and general movement was concerned. There was also other risks, like increased mana costs, cooldowns, or activation conditions.

Alex weighed the possibilities of each skill, and he found himself coming to a decision incredibly easily. 

The potential of Assimilate Nexus called to him.

With this skill at his disposal, he could reshape and enhance his abilities, bending them to his will like a master artisan crafting a masterpiece. Perhaps at higher stages of mastery he could even influence the nature of changes made to skill crystals.

The more he thought about it, the more he became convinced it was the right decision. 

[Grade F Class Skill: Assimilate Nexus (active) selected!]

Alex opened his eyes to find John stood beside him, wearing stone gauntlets that seemed to transform the skin of his arms to a similar resilient material. John looked particularly pleased with himself.

“How do I get skill crystals?” Alex muttered 

“Beasts and quests,” John replied, his brow creasing in confusion. “Some Beasts have unique capabilities and sometimes drop the crystals.” He continued, flexing his wrist beneath the gauntlets to cause the entirety of his arm to harden. “How do you not know that?” He quirked a brow curiously.

“How do you even manage to remember something like that after a day like this.  ” Alex responded defensively. Alex knelt down, relieved to see John buying into his deflection. He reached for his third quest reward, an unremarkable blade at his feet. It was the weapon the system had labeled as a ‘FlameBlade’. 

It seemed pretty ordinary at first, a simple hilt and guard, with a long straight blade that seemed entirely too plain. That was, until Alex held the hilt. The blade burst with contained flame that surrounded it in a layer, perfectly mimicking its shape with searing heat and brightness.

John squinted at the weapon in Alex's hand and frowned. "Is that a flameblade?" He leaned back slightly, his face scrunching up in distaste.

Alex found himself curious. He held up the blade of contained flame, its light illuminated his immediate surroundings, only overshadowed by the light of the forges. “What’s wrong with it?“

"Flameblades are the worst," John stated flatly. “What’s the point of attacking something if you're going to immediately cauterize its wounds?” His lips curled in distaste. “They can't even kill properly, only wound." 

He sliced the air with his hand, simulating a cut. "Chop something in half, and it's likely still breathing."

John suddenly adopted a scowl and deepened his voice, a poor imitation of Grenthar's rumble. He pointed directly at the blade, fingers grasping. "That's useless, you should sell that to a rich fool." His attempt at seriousness faltered into the edge of amusement.

Grenthar's brows knitted together, his lips turning downwards as he caught sight of his nephew's antics. Without a word, he picked up a nearby unfinished practice sword and tossed it towards John, the metal catching the flitting through the forge in flashes of reflected light. 

John darted to the side, narrowly avoiding the incoming practice sword. "Hey, you could've hurt me!" His voice spiked with a blend of surprise and indignation.

"Bah, quit your whining, nephew," Gren's voice boomed, unfazed. "It didn't hit you. And a cut would've made you stronger." He paused, a slight grin forming. "Isn't that what your class is all about? 'Bloody immortal' or something?"

"That's not—ugh," John cut himself off, shaking his head and muttering under his breath as he walked over to where Alex stood. stream of grievances about being misunderstood trailing behind him.

"… I see," Alex responded with a measured and calm tone,  taking in John's frustration, Gren's amusement, and the weapons' apparently inadequate capabilities. Alex disagreed with Johns verdict. Sure, it wasn’t the most efficient tool, but it’s searing and magically contained heat seemed capable of treating the flesh and bone of beasts like paper. It wasn’t bad.

And besides, masters could turn even the most mundane of tools into deadly items, let alone something designed to part fr he most resilient of materials with ease.

He placed the flaming blade in his left hand, then he outstretched his right.

Next, Alex summoned the blue crystal blade stolen from the hoard, the weapon had been critical in defeating the queen.

Alex's fingers found the unexpected coolness and solidness of something appearing into existence within his grasp. He pulled out the long, thick blade made of pure striking blue crystal. 

Its edges were smooth and flawless, like a tranquil sea somehow frozen into a solid form, made sharp and cutting. Running his thumb over the hilt's surface, he encountered tiny, precise sigils, so small they appeared barely visible. A thought lingered in his mind about the extraordinary effort and technology involved— the detail was so fine it seemed impossible by hand alone, perhaps requiring machinery back on Earth. To his infinitely enhanced senses, Alex could see and feel the blades mana, it moved and appeared in ways he had never seen mana behave before, appearing to match the intricate sigils of the hilt as it circulated the crystals facets like a stream through valleys. The mana was every shifting, changing, but always holding the form of a sigil or fractal, rather than the loose structure of energy or air Alex was used to seeing. It felt like he was looking at thousands upon thousands of lines of code, constantly shifting with each breath. The blade hummed in his fingers, a tiny portion of its endless mana-code gathering to form a vortex of hundreds of shifting sigils— all at the location of his touch. The vibrations offered Alex an intricate view of the lattice workings of its interior. 

He experimentally tapped the Flameblade’s blazing edge against the blue crystals facets.

The crystal blade burst alight, covered in contained flames that perfectly mirrored the stolen essence of another's energy.

"Sacred mother… is that the ‘Infinite Blade’?" Grenthar stood in exclamation at the sight, his voice a mix of awe and disbelief.

Alex turned the blade over in his hands, inspecting its facets. Was the blade well known? He wasn’t sure how to respond.

"Infinite Blade? I've never heard of it," John confessed, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Mira leaned in for a closer look, equally puzzled. "Neither have I. What is it?"

“It’s a conduit,” The blacksmith spoke, seated by the flames of his forge and seemingly undisturbed by its intense heat. “Supposedly able to adapt to any energy.” His words were accompanied by a scowl, his tone laced with skepticism.

Grenthar spoke with his arms outstretched, “they say that with the right energy, it can even slay gods.” His fingers grasped towards the crystal weapon, still reaching from his perch by the forge.“But that is obviously just a myth, only a god can kill a god.”

“It's legend.” John whispered, in a daze, eyeing the blade with awe and reverence.

Alex felt a tug from the blade in his grasp, surging and bucking towards the blacksmith. He instinctively held the blade tighter before relaxing and letting it drift towards the blacksmith. He still needed to have the weapon appraised.

Once in his grasp, Grenthar studied the weapon intensively, much longer than he’d studied any other item they’d brought. Soon he confirmed his earlier conjecture as true. It was the blade they believed it to be. The limitless blade was a myth as old as civilisation, rumored to be a masterwork of the God of crafts. While some believed it was the work of multiple ancient kingdoms, a project of countless resources and manpower aimed at ending some long forgotten threat that plagued all borders. All agreed that the technology and skill needed to create such an item was far beyond even the greatest of masters in the world. Its origin was an enigma. The sword had been lost centuries ago, appearing sporadically in battlefields before disappearing entirely once its wielder was slain by the covetous many. It would co-opt a small portion of any energy it came in contact with and hold that energy, only releasing it offensively when the blades next swing made contact.

Double Jackpot. Alex was glad it was him and not another that had found the blade, but if it’s anywhere near as famous as Gren claims, I’ll have to avoid using it. Unless I have to, obviously.

He placed the blade in his inventory. According to the blacksmith, every single owner of the blade had been hounded until they finally succumbed to the ambushing hordes. But it wasn’t as though Alex wasn’t used to ambushes.

They stored away the remaining treasures, gold and items. Alex placed his nestled safely within his inventory as Mira and John placed theirs into spatial satchels, traded from Alex and John’s uncle in exchange for lesser treasures. Despite the heaps of conquests, all in all, Alex was beginning to feel that it had been a pretty fortuitous day.

"Alex!" The door to the smithy creaked open, and Lyra raced forward with visible excitement, her usual stoic demeanor forgotten. She charged forward with a hug, catching Alex off guard.  "It's good to see you!" She delivered a hefty slap on the back, but all Alex felt was a light sting. I barely felt that, but it sounded like it should hurt. So the endurance stat actually works, nice. Ironically, constantly facing death blows hadn’t allowed the stat to shine.

"You too," he said, smiling as she squeezed him.

Finn bumped his shoulder softly with a fist. "Heard you've been out getting kidnapped? Then getting saved by a local guard? Hah! I thought you were stronger than that."

Alex merely smirked in response, but Mira burst out laughing.

Before anyone could comment further, Mira told all present the truth, detailing their exploits through the hive and the inevitable confrontation. Alex considered stopping her at points, and John seemed to hesitate at others, but they let her tell the tale. Along the journey they had considered their options; in the wake of the towns assault and survivor interviews, a scouting and war party would be formed, comprised of a coalition of the local lands forces. The party would soon be sent to find and face what they believed to be a threat to their nation. 

What they would instead find would be an empty underground hive, abandoned by all of its members over the coming weeks. The hive was full right now, with its monarch defeated, but with Miras guidance its members would soon relocate. She had decided to return, unable to leave her kin to drift aimlessly towards their collective deaths. She would lead them as best as she could. Alex considered the ramifications of her decision, but he trusted her intentions, to a degree. The possibility of her causing problems was minimal but not impossible, but what was he supposed to do? Detaining her or killing her in cold blood would go against what he stood for, she had saved his life more than once and had proven herself to be well intentioned. Although he was well aware of people's capacity for change, he understood that at the very least, Mira deserved a chance. He had met humans far less deserving of breath than her.

So eventually she would relocate the hive, and when the war party entered the old hive’s location, they would only find either vast elaborate architecture filled with emptiness or corpses. And both options would come with a lot of questions.

The three had agreed that when the time came, John would take all the credit, touting his artifacts and special class as the key to victory.

It was a win-win scenario for all. Neither Alex nor Mira wanted the attention.

In the wake of her story, Lyras party stood slack-jawed, all of them eyeing John with newfound respect. It was a respect that he bathed in, shamelessly.

Finn leaned against a table, the metal surface cool and solid beneath his weight. In his hand, a dagger spun, its blade as long and thick as Alex’s forearm, each spin catching brief flashes of light from the forge. "Gallivanting and dabbling in regicide?" he mused aloud, surprise playing on his lips. "You could've sent an invite."

Kier shuffled further into the smithy, each step deliberately pronounced, his staff clacking against the stone floor. "Actually, regicide usually connotes the killing of a king, though it can refer to the killing of monarchs in general," he spoke with crispy tones, his voice a blend of irritation and pedantry. "Queencide is what he has done." He gestured towards John with a nod, his eyes reflecting a mix of appraisal and respect.

All turned to face John, who straightened at the attention.

Lyra stepped forward and clasped a hand on John's shoulder. The wood beneath him creaked under the weight of her action. "What you've done is unbelievable. We'll need both you and Alex for what's to come."

John looked proud, then incredulous, and then slightly uneasy. "The dungeon?" he asked.

"Yes, the dungeon," Lyra nodded and released his shoulder, shifting the large sword on her back. "They say it will soon be released."

"How do they know?" Alex found himself asking the question without hesitation; the information was too crucial.

Lyra turned to face him. "They don't, but since last night there have been changes: the earth changing near its entrance, its light shifting, its size growing smaller, yet influencing all within range. It was slow this morning, but it's been reported to have increased within the last hour significantly. The ground is no longer green, the air burns at the entrance, and the trees are no longer trees. It's obvious something is coming, and pretty soon by the looks of things."

John paled before settling himself and standing straighter, stronger, and more firm, releasing a deep settling breath. He met Lyra's gaze and asked a question: "Have they sent the baron's elite?"

Kier shook his head, "all dead. A squad was stationed by the entrance but I doubt they’ll be enough. The best option is to evacuate the town, but the alert was only received an hour ago. It's dire."

Finn chuckled. "Dire, he says... It's not so bad. Some say the whole town is going to get wiped out. I doubt it, though. I've been in an incursion dungeon before; it's just dumb beasts. As long as we herd them and direct the fighting, there's only so much damage that they can do.” He flipped his blade high into the air, catching it with a finger. “We'll whittle the dumb beasts down, most likely with minor to no casualties."

"Yes, but what if the beasts are high level?" Kier added.

All stood silent at the prospect.

Finn sauntered forward through the silence, his gait undaunted by circumstance, “That’s simple, we’ll just have to k—“

The ground trembled, a jolt that turned earth wood and stone to water, flinging all too the air.

Windows burst and the door to the smithy was torn open. They poured outside.

And then, a blast of mana, heat, and light overwhelmed them.

No sooner had they stepped foot outside the smithy, a second, more powerful shockwave rumbled through the ground beneath their braced feet. Faces turned upwards, drawn to the sky by a blinding eruption of mana and light that pierced the tranquil twilight. The settlement was plunged into a state of chaos, screams of panic rising from every corner.

Alex squinted against the blinding light. A massive column of red light towered above the town, stretching high into the sky, ripping through the clouds. It was as if a sword of crimson energy had impaled the world.

A familiar sound ringed in their heads, drawing their attention to the translucent screen that appeared before them.

The message hung in the air as they looked at each other, each face reflecting the pressing reality of their situation. As the screams of panic sounded around Alex and the world seemed to teeter on the precipice of chaos, one thing was clear- The normalcy they had just begun to return to was once again shattered, replaced by the abrupt reminder of the system's cruel unpredictability.

[Dynamic Quest - Incursion Event ‘Daemon Sentinel’: An incursion dungeon, has completed its cycle and broken into your world. The inhabitants of world designation 'Haearthhel' will proceed to invade and subjugate your world. Seize back the foothold before it is too late, and close the incursion point! 

Reward: Rewards dependant on contribution. Randomised additional rewards for top contributors. High ranked reward increased due to first incursion event]

***

Authors note: What class skill do you think he should’ve chosen? What would you choose?

Soul of Blades - Chapter 49: Missing Time

Authors note: Update to chapter 48 - Alex acquired (stole) some relics.

“Alex felt that he had chosen well. Very well. Alongside various blades with increased sharpness and durability enchantments, Alex had secured four items and placed them in his inventory, with no plans to take them out or even have them appraised. A pair of gloves, a cloak, an aged wooden stake, and a grimoire. He had no idea what they did, but they were filled with more mana than any other item he had seen, save for the blue crystal sword.

They were most likely the greatest of lost heirlooms, and as long as they were in his possession, they would remain lost. At least until he was certain he could defend himself against the supposed power of the great families.

Those items were nestled safely in his inventory, untouched.”

Chapter 49: Missing Time

Alex wondered if gods were real, singular or plural, he couldn't be sure. He believed in the possibility of a god, sure. But his second life had challenged the very notion of deity in ways he had yet to digest.

Alex huffed, idly running his hands through gold coins in frustration.

He had studied many religions throughout his youth, delving deep into practically all of them. His pilgrimage had required a very strange and specific mind state; he found himself having to completely abandon the very idea of making decisions, creating a mental sub-process that made decisions for him, regardless of how he felt or thought. During that time he'd regularly exercised the ability to split and partition his mind, always choosing the option that matched whatever frame of reference he used as a checksum, even if and when the entirety of his being believed the opposite was true. 

How he felt hadn’t mattered, and what he believed had mattered even less. 

Exploring every religion taught Alex a surprising lesson: Sometimes, your beliefs couldn't be trusted. He found that logic, too, was a double-edged sword— with the right amount of confirmation bias, it could be used to justify anything, from the present belief in a flat earth to conspiracies of lizard people ruling Earth.

But then again, there was nothing that totally disproved the idea that lizard people were ruling the planet either. Alex smiled at the ludicrous nature of his thoughts. 

It was ironically leaps of faith that guided him when sailing through storms of uncertainty, and bungee jumps with nothing but impartial objectivity as his tether. And with that handshake, his latest mental leap of faith was telling him one thing despite all evidence to the contrary;

There was something really strange about Fred.

Alex found himself standing in Grenthar’s smithy, by the forge and in the middle of shaking Fred's hand. He didn't quite remember how the handshake had started, only that it had a middle and would soon have an end. Something about the guy just didn't sit right with him, causing an undercurrent of warning every time their paths crossed. Alex couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, but the back of his mind buzzed in warning whenever he looked at, or spoke to the man. It was as if his enhanced mental stats buzzed in alarm, as if the man's very presence disturbed Alex’s high intelligence in a way he hadn't known was possible. 

Alex released Fred’s hand and stepped back to sort and pile the arrayed treasure.

He thought back to the entrance of John's friend, Fred, who introduced himself as the town's only cobbler. Fred had entered in a mild and unassuming manner, disrupting the entirety of his day's plans to deliver a message to Alex. The message was a pretty important one; it told Alex that both Lyra’s adventuring team and the town's Baron were looking for him. And somehow amidst the conversation they had ended up shaking hands. Alex presumed he had shook Fred’s hand idly, a subconscious act. but try as he might, he just couldn't remember how the handshake started. Am I missing time?—

The room erupted in laughter, tearing Alex away from a very delicately held stream of thought as John told a joke about shoes. The thought fell to pieces like a dandelion in the wind, scattered and never to be recovered. John's jest was pretty terrible and hardly made sense,  But his joke still somehow caused Alex to chuckle. That guy was a hoot.

Alex’s gaze swept from Gren the smith, who was busy wiping tears of laughter from his eyes to better study a jeweled crown— beginning to hyperventilate with intensity as he took in its details, to Fred, who stood in discussion with John and Mira. The cobbler was short, even by earth standards. Far shorter than Alex, and stocky but in a stumpy sort of way, like a tree-trunk but somehow compact and mobile. 

Fred had just sort of turned up in the Smithy at some point over the last few minutes, but nobody really remembered how he entered, just that he was among them. They must have missed it, swept up in their He just sort of appeared, as in one moment he wasn't there and in the next moment he was. That is pretty strange, isn't it? Alex felt a nagging persistent sense of wrongness at the thought, but the thought faded as quickly as it came, stripped from Alex like velcro, leaving imprints in the wake of its removal. 

And within those soft imprints, an inexplicable discomfort lingered in Alex's mind, challenging this perception. Wondering if hyper-wary distrust had taken hold or if Fred's ordinary facade masked something more, Alex found himself torn.

Alex found himself studying the town cobbler as the man mildly gave Mira’s Greaves and metallic soles a complimentary servicing before moving on to Johns. Fred was dressed in a simple white tunic and leather bottoms and boots. He seemed pretty unremarkable after everything Alex had seen in this world, and he would probably have been considered so on earth too. Like the kind of guy you would expect to deliver your mail, or do your taxes, or clean your shoes. All in all, Fred seemed like a pretty regular guy.

But that isn't right, is it? Alex scratched his chin as he continued to study the man. Fred was average, normal, and unremarkable. That was the conclusion Alex found himself constantly coming to. 

It seemed right, and appeared so. But it didn't feel right.

Something felt severely wrong. His brain churned in vertigo the longer he rebelled against the thought. The longer he studied Fred. Am I being paranoid? Alex wondered, Is he messing with my mind, somehow? Is it a passive? Or am I just being super irrational and extremely suspicious?

Alex decided to assess his situation objectively to boil it down to two possible outcomes. Then he would have to simply decide between the lesser of two evils; Either he was being extremely irrational and taking his random dislike for a seemingly nice guy way too far and way too seriously, or he couldn't trust his own thoughts and he was experiencing a very valid and sudden urge of rational paranoia, all geared towards and incited by the most boring man in town. 

And if the unlikely latter option was true, he couldn't trust his own thoughts. But he could trust objectivity in its place. 

So… this is a world where pretty much anything and everything is possible. I have enhanced senses and stats, and the intelligence stat is related to the mind as well as currently being my highest stat. And my mind feels weird whenever I interact with Fred, who feels like a very normal, quite possibly boring man. I can even sense his boring heartbeat, slow, and well paced. How does a person manage to have a boring heartbeat?!  Alex buried his head in his hand in deliberation.

So, crazy magic world—check. Mind related stat causing nausea around one specific person—check. Unbelievably boring whatsisface’ clearly acting as the catalyst— check.

Alex shook his head and chuckled at the absurdity of his thoughts, he felt like a person suspecting their grandmother of being a hired assassin. It was ludicrous. Every fiber of his being told him that Fred was normal, only exceptional in his ability to  behave exactly like everyone else. Alex had no evidence besides his reasoning and what essentially boiled down to what he'd heard the kids back on earth refer to as ‘Vibes’. 

But it feels weird, it's probably because it's weird as all hell, Alex huffed in conclusion. 

Fred’s hiding something.

Despite the man's apparent normalcy and mild mannered, almost harmless nature. There was definitely something weird about the short and stocky town cobbler. Alex decided to go against his every instinct but one; the very idea that Fred was anything but normal caused his mind to blur and his thoughts to drift.

Fred’s arrival always had a way of subtly shifting the atmosphere for Alex, though it seemed to glide past everyone else unnoticed. Their handshake was one of those moments Alex found himself puzzling over — initiated without memory, concluded with a lingering unease.

"Strange, isn't it? How news finds its way," Fred mused, breaking into Alex's thoughts with his message that turned Alex’s day on its head — a search party led by Lyra’s team and the town's Baron, seeking Alex for aid in an ‘Incursion Dungeon going critical’… whatever that means, the phrase sounded familiar, but he hadn’t consumed enough pupular media to recall exactly what it meant. I should’ve spent less time training and more time watching movies, then this world would be a breeze, he huffed internally. 

“Err… yes, Fred. News is pretty strange I guess.” Pondering over Fred’s plainness, Alex battled with the potential meaning of a dungeon ‘going critical’. To incur means to invade, right? So maybe it means a dungeon is going to invade the town? Or the world? Eight dungeon stages the size of the first island I woke up on, invading this tiny town. Hmm… that’s… actually pretty bad. Alex’s eyes widened in realisation.

“Where’s Lyra and her team now?” Alex asked with a sense of increasing urgency. Fred simply nodded in understanding. “They're on their way, I sent a message the moment I entered.” He held up a thin piece of parchment inscribed with glowing fractals, as if that would explain everything. Instantly, Alex assumed it was some kind of messaging device and decided to play along rather than betray his ignorance of what Fred’s demeanor implied was common knowledge. “I see,” he said. “Thanks. Tell her to hurry.”

Alex figured he'd get the full picture from Lyra, and a politically altered version of events from the baron. If he had his way, he wouldn't bother meeting the baron at all. Who would want to waste their time with politicking when you could just gain money and power instead?

Fred pushed his chair back, the sound briefly filling the space. "I'm heading out," he said. "Good to meet you, Alex, Mira. See you, John, Gren. I'll pass the message to Lyra."

"Just Lyra, please. Skip the Baron," Alex stated, his focus on Fred.

"Sure, I can do that. Take care," Fred replied, nodding. He straightened, turned and walked towards the exit. lifting his hand in a wave. his warm smile reached his eyes as he turned towards the door.

John, alongside Mira, voiced their goodbyes, their chorus of well-wishes filling the smithy. Gren, chuckling, offered Fred a casual salute. Alex was silent and responded with a subtle nod, eyes following Fred’s fading form until the door shut behind him.

Alex scratched at the rising hairs in the back of his neck. That guy gave him the Heebie jeebies.

***

[Quest: ‘Sapient Saviour’ Completed! - You have been graded as the highest contributor!]

[Error- Reward ‘Insight of the Imperial’ detected. Reward removed]

[All living humans evacuated. Highest possible achievement gained.]

[Adjusting rewards]

[Reward: E-Grade Class Skill Crystal x1 has been placed in your inventory!]

[Reward: E-Grade Skill Crystal x1 has been placed in your inventory!]

[Reward: E- grade weaponry - ‘Lomion’s FlameBlade, has been placed in your inventory!]

That was the notification Alex saw shortly after Fred left the smithy. Both he and John were stood stock still, staring into the empty spaces before them at messages only they could see, each with heartbeats that increased with each detail of reward they absorbed.

The instant Alex felt the items land in his inventory, he summoned them before him, with a crystal landing in each palm and blade clattering softly at his feet.

One crystal of blue, softly swirling brightness, and one slightly larger crystal, gold in colour. It was the purest gold Alex had ever seen, and yet somehow clear and transparent. Even the mana within was gold, a color so striking it seeped out of the bounds of the item, bleeding into the world around it. It made him question whether he had ever truly seen the colour before.

All else faded away as Alex tapped into the crystal

[Please make selection]

He willed his acceptance, and another notification appeared.

[System Message: Choose one of 2 Skills]

[F-grade Skill 1: Immortal Mamluk (Passive): The Sovereign systemically conquers all, and rules all. the soul of your greatest foe will be pulled from the wheel of samsara and shackled to yours, its spirit forever bound to reside within your shadow. It will become your personal assassin, acting as an immediate layer of defense during the day, able to absorb damage in your place,  while being able to be summoned completely into the world at night, or in the sun's absence. This assassin, armed with duplicates of weapons held at death, will fight for a limited duration, its skill and strength reflecting the user’s mastery level. Peak mastery allows for the summoning of an elite assassin of the same soul, armed with peak statistics to further enhance combat effectiveness.

[F-grade Skill 2: Assimilate Nexus (Active): To the true sovereign, laws, rules, and boundaries are merely suggestions, easily broken. Grants the user the ability to subvert the system's skill granting processes to corrupt skill crystals and assimilate them to your class, changing their nature and how they function, and increasing their capabilities through assimilation. All altered skills will be twisted to relate to your class; designated “systemic sword sovereign.” All skill crystals of the same grade or lower may be affected. Can be utilized during the skill selection process. Peak mastery and understanding will increase the skill’s grade, leading to the assimilation of higher grade skills.] 

Drifting in a familiar black expanse, Alex considered his options

Update: Changes to chapter 44: Quest rewards

There's been an important change- Alex received first place for killing the queen, hence his enhanced rewards. Second was quite forced and didn't really serve a purpose, and was quite the mistake. He was always intended to get first place (as he practically solo’d the queen) but not get the evolution insight, so the evolution insight is now the reward for second place.

See the changes here:

Chapter 44:

Before either could respond, notifications filled each’s vision, the blue light of reward shining a soothing light only they could see.

[Quest: ‘Sapient Saviour’ Completed! - You have been graded as the highest contributor!]

Alex felt the silence engulf them while Mira seemed to puzzle over the messages floating before both of their eyes, their heavy breaths the only sound to break the stillness. He saw her blinking at the floating messages only they could see, her brow furrowing as she scanned the text with mounting confusion. It stated his position as the highest contributor to their victory which made sense, of course he was the highest, he had delivered the final blow, suggesting someone else had contributed more.

"I'm second? What?… how?" she murmured to herself, the question hanging in the air.

What's her deal? Alex wondered. I dealt the killing blow and the most damage in general, besides John’s spike attacks and the g- Mira’- he reminded himself. I definitely dealt more damage than Mira. Why does she look so unhappy with the result?

Mira noticed his bewilderment and moved closer. Her approach was hesitant, each step careful as she navigated through the debris. “Is something wrong? You look like you were expecting first place.” Alex asked curiosly. She looked up at him guiltily and wore a grin that seemed to wrestle with fatigue, a smile that didn't quite know if it belonged on her face given the surrounding devastation. “I kind of did. I thought I had made the biggest difference, but I guess I was wrong.” Alex looked on in confusion at her statement. That made no sense whatsoever.

Sensing his growing confusion, Mira responded. “Like I said… my venom acts differently from everyone else's," she said.

And here:

Chapter 44:

“I know I'm a great teacher but how'd you get so good?” Alex asked with intrigue lacing his words.

“When we fought I watched your moves and techniques… a lot,” she spoke softly, her voice tinged with guilt. "I wanted to understand it.”

The queen had alluded to the possibility of Alex being her ‘source’. If that was true, it could mean she had gained some of his martial prowess. It could explain her growth. He wondered how much she had gained.

“And the venom?” Alex ventured, turning from surveying the chamber's passages to meet her gaze.

"Our venom never really affects others of the swarm but mine does, I think.” Her eyes didn't meet his as she muttered her next words. “It must've not have weakened the queen as much as I'd hoped. And you did everything… I guess I was being greedy… Sorry?"

Alex felt her breath quicken and a shift in the chemicals that surrounded her form, but he didn't need a sixth sense to see that she felt guilty. That queen- the ‘Death of Men’… she could probably move faster than I could wield my Dao. Her level was 56, so that's 560+50 stats or more in split between strength and dexterity with a common class. So at the very least she had over 300 strength and 300 dexterity. That's 100 more than mine, not to mention the predation skill, with all the cores she ate it would have been higher… and then her Aura attacks made everything worse. I wouldn't be surprised if she had 400 stats on me without my ‘duel of corruption’ debuff doing its job. Some of those blows were practically unblockable without my techniques, and even with them. Heck, even if Mira’s venom didn't do much to help, I'm sure slowing the queen down even a little could've made a difference somehow.

Soul of Blades: Chapter 48 - The Silent Spectre

Authors note: I have a backlog of about 20 chapters that need slight alterations before posting, as I'm pretty happy with them and they only need minor improvements, so I'm aiming to get them all out this week, hence the delay. There should be no more delays for at least the next 2 months, as those chapters are a lot of fun and send the story racing forward quite a bit.

The next few arcs begin with the next chapter, thanks for being patient guys. Enjoy.

Chapter 48: The Silent Spectre

John's uncle, the blacksmith, had spent just under an hour scouring over their treasure, much to the growing excitement of all present. 

Most items from before the system still function as they should, though their effects have changed, sometimes in unexpected ways. The blacksmith pointed out these items haven't lost much of their original strength despite the system's introduction. It seems none of them were considered powerful enough to be restricted.

Among the items had been several that had caused their brows to raise in mild surprise, then moderate surprise, then full blown shock. John's brows still hadn’t receded.

Many of the remaining items had been heirlooms of powerful groups Gren called ‘the great families’, some treasures belonging to bloodlines in this land and others. Most of the more powerful items were considered national treasures, and Alex wanted them all. The items ranged from a pair of gauntlets that grant the wearer godlike strength, which under the system translated to 1% boost with an additional +50 strength stat, to a shield that, upon a lethal unguarded blow, would create a massive explosion equal to the damage it defended, decimating nearby enemies while leaving those the wielder considered allies unscathed. Then there was a sword that resonated with the heartbeat of the world it lay in, growing stronger the longer it remained buried until it would become unbreakable. That sword could easily become broken if he entered higher worlds. 

I’m leaving with that blade no matter what, Alex eyed the weapon with poorly disguised avarice. And where's the quest reward for returning to civilisation, is it because of the stragglers? They need to hurry their asses up. Alex ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. It was starting to get pretty long, he'd have to cut it soon, or god forbid, tie it back. There was a couple that had insisted on staying behind in the field before the town, promising they would enter after a tribute of some kind. They were using their skills to build a statue. The rest of the survivors were desperate to return, but wished them well. Alex guessed the system would only consider the quest complete the moment the entirety of his group of survivors returned. Perhaps it would mean he would net even greater rewards. I understand, but it doesn't make it more bearable. He felt for them, he truly did, their experiences must have been mortifying. But he was itching to make his next move.

They had agreed to give free choice over a third of the magical items and split the rest equally, the gold, the armor, the equipment, and non-magical items were to be shared without argument. John had selected a myriad of items, favoring historical relics that would sell for hefty sums over gold or enchanted equipment. Alex and Mira opted to keep the remaining majority of the relics and items. Alex didn’t really care about the mundane items, the only value they held for him was in how useful they would be in helping him get back to earth. 

Much of that use lay in any knowledge they held, or the amount the remaining hoard would sell for.

The portion of the hoard they had managed to carry out of the hive had not only contained gold and currencies from various kingdoms, both historical and present, but equipment both magical and mundane that spanned the length of almost two centuries.

In short, the three of them had stumbled onto not just magical power, but untold wealth.

“So you’re saying we’re rich now.” Alex asked the question slowly, enunciating each word carefully. He figured that would be the case upon seeing the queens hoard, but he had to be sure. After all, there was no way to assess the economic state of the land from a glance. For all he knew it could have been a society that ceded a majority of its wealth to the state or monarchy through steep taxes. It wouldn’t hurt to check

“Well,” grenthar stroked his beard as he assessed the three. “Once the treasury gets its hands on this,” he swept his arms over the array of armour, weapons, and coins organized before him, “there won’t be many who can match your pockets, outside of royalty, people from the great families, or some of the better known adventurers.” Grenthar idly holds John's crown, flicking a crystal which flashes with deep green light. “So yes,” he gruffed, “neither of you will ever have to worry about where the next loaf of bread will fall from.” 

Alex could sense John practically vibrating with excitement 

Grenthar moved to the corner of the room and tore a rough envelope, which burst into flame at the action, crumbling into nothing between his fingers. “Some of the families might want a few of their heirlooms back, so you should get a hefty fee for a lot of these. I’d suggest selling them through the treasury before you find yourself waking up to swords for breakfast.” He stroked his long beard in thought, a dark cloud settling over his features.  “I hear one of their knights managed to hit his first milestone skill during the tutorial.” Grenthar grimaced, shuddering at the memory. “They say he's more of an assassin than a knight, though. Nasty stuff.”

Alex felt that he had chosen well. Very well. Alongside various blades with increased sharpness and durability enchantments, Alex had secured four items and placed them in his inventory, with no plans to take them out or even have them appraised. A pair of gloves, a cloak, an aged wooden stake, and a grimoire. He had no idea what they did, but they were filled with more mana than any other item he had seen, save for the blue crystal sword.

They were most likely the greatest of lost heirlooms, and as long as they were in his possession, they would remain lost. At least until he was certain he could defend himself against the supposed power of the great families.

Those items were nestled safely in his inventory, untouched.

His mind elsewhere, Alex pulled the remaining rewards and items from his inventory skill, pouring them into a desperate pile which included the Queen's bronze and golden swords. He'd stored those items the moment she’d passed. He already knew the bronze blade could elongate, increasing in its reach drastically. And he still distinctly recalled the sensation of evading the metal shards that erupted from its golden counterpart. 

“What about these items? What does your appraisal skill tell you?”

***

The blacksmith, Grenthar, had a somewhat rare appraisal skill. These skills could reach into the annals of the system and pull information on items the skill had completely appraised. According to grenthar and his nephew, John, at higher levels of mastery, and higher ranks of skill development, the skill could analyze internal mana to discern the details of almost anything; possibly even people. But Grenthat had not had the skill for long and such capabilities was a distant dream. His skill was currently only capable of assessing items of the same rank, and fortunately all of the items within their horde fell under his skills current capabilities.

Gren’s skill had revealed much to Alex in a very short period of time. 

Some things he had already known and were similar in description to what he had already experienced. The spatial satchel was confirmed to be a dimensional pouch, appearing unremarkable at first glance, yet capable of containing an expanse far beyond its physical confines. The armor he wore was imbued with a subtle forcefield, invisible yet bastille, an unseen guardian against all threats. His boots were expert works of enchantment, according to the blacksmith. The boots allowed his weight to lessen at will, granting him swiftness and agility that utilized his stats with the utmost proficiency. 

And the white sword, named ‘Weightless’, was an oxymoron made of metal; it grew heavier with the momentum of each swing, craving arcs assisted by gravity and momentum, imbued with both force and finesse. It was a sword made to be swung, preferably downward with the aid of gravity.

“But what about this one? What does your skill say?” Alex asked Gren, summoning the vessel of madness to land softly in his palm. “Or do ancient, possibly cursed artifacts fall outside your usual repertoire?"

“Nothing falls outside of my repertoire, visitor.” Gren gruffed in response, his focus sharpening as he took a step closer.

The blacksmith eyed the strange light pulsing from the box curiously, “that’s strange..” he muttered “it says it needs to process the item's mana… that’s never happened before…” he promptly, snatched the box from Alex’s open palm, ignoring any warnings to be careful. He opened the box, his fingers carefully navigating the clasp, revealing the gem inside. With precise movements, Gren lifted the gem, allowing the light to catch its facets to illuminate the subtle and almost imperceptible pulsations of color within. His expression shifted subtly at the sight of the gem that lay within. "Very strange indeed," he remarked, fingers deftly encircling the gem to lift it for closer inspection. His inspection was thorough, his eyes tracing the contours and facets of the gem as it lay seemingly dormant between his fingers. This continued for five minutes, with the older blacksmith muttering indecipherably under his breath in tones that filled the quiet as he turned the gem over, examining its every detail.

“Hah!” Gren finally exclaimed, a note of triumph in his voice as he looked up from the gem with eyes alight with vindication. "I told you I could do it."

Alex leaned in closer, eager to hear Gren's assessment of the mysterious artifact. "What did you find?" To Alex’s Outer Vision, the gem shifted with a light that seemed both contained and expansive.

"This," Gren declared, holding up a gleaming gemstone, "is a powerful item, very powerful." He continued, turning the gem over in his hand, ensuring Alex saw every aspect of it. “But ultimately useless. I’d suggest you sell this, too. Some fool amongst the families will find great use from it.”

Alex frowned in puzzlement. “Why?”

“It’s not just a vessel of madness, it’s a Shard of something called the Endless Library,” Gren’s voice rumbled, filled with curiosity and intrigu, his attention unwavering from the gem.

“What’s that?” John raised his head to interject, and Alex finally registered what the constant clinking and shuffling he could feel was. John was lying atop a pile of gold coins in apparent bliss.

Gren ignored his nephew to continue eyeing the gem before speaking to alex:” it grants skills, and more than one. It grants one new skill daily but will drive you mad and curropt the mind, however long that will take I don’t know.”

John, still lying on the pile of gold while perfectly spinning multiple coins between his fingers, raised his head again to speak up, “yeah but what’s that endless library thing?” 

“ I don't know, nephew. To be honest I’ve never heard of it.” Gren lifted the crystal, turning it over under the light of his forge, allowing the gem's facets to catch and scatter the illumination. 

Grenthar then regarded Alex. “but you should sell this. Yes, once consumed it grants you a single new skill every day, but the Skills do not accumulate. The new skill will always replace the old one and you will have no choice over which skill is granted the next day, not to mention they would be granted without proficiency.  The only way to keep a skill beyond a day is to master it completely, which is impossible.”

Grenthar placed the dark crystal in its box and closed it, causing a strong light to surge and pulse between the gaps “not to mention each use of an unmastered skill from this ‘library’ will drive the user closer to madness. Like I said, it’s useless. Just leave it with the rich fools.”

John dropped the coins to lazily spin an ornate scythe dug from the pile. “but we are rich fools now,”

“speak for yourself.” Alex interjected, deadpan, before returning to assess the now quite valuable skill crystal. "But yes, I'll keep that in mind," Alex responded, nodding toward Gren, his gaze still lingering on the gemstone before him. "I don't think I'll be using this anytime soon."

Just as Alex finished speaking, a voice sounded above his head, right behind and beside him and well within his range. It was practically on top of him. The voice appeared as if summoned from thin air, gruff and hoarse, not only matching the blacksmith’s voice in ruggedness, but exceeding it in vigor too. 

“Hey Gren.” it said.

Alex jumped in surprise, spinning to swing his wrist at speed. He lashed out reflexively, momentarily forgetting his enhanced nature and the need to hold back, his movements boosted by 200 stats. The air burst in disruption in the wake of his swing. Alex’s swing appeared as a blur to all present.

The visitor expertly ducked beneath Alexs responsive blow, causing it to only graze his cheek to cause slight bruising. The man- and Alex could see now that it was a man, clean shaven yet somehow rugged in appearance- looked just as shocked at Alex, but his shock seemed to stem from the bruise he’d acquired, his eyebrows raising in surprise at the first injury he'd gained since the advent of the system. 

Belatedly, Alex also noticed that the door to the Smithy was ajar,  opened by the tall yet unassuming man that had enterdd the smithy. Alex could sense an entire portion of the building in great detail, and even things happening immediately outside of its walls, but both him and Mira had not felt the mans presence until he was right behind them. Both stared at the man in utter shock and disbelief. If Alex wasn't seeing him with his own eyes, he wouldn't believe a person was there. Not a sound was made, no heartbeat, no breathing, not even the rustling of his clothes. The man left no chemical trace, and made no impact on the ground beneath their feet, not a shockwave, nor the slightest of tremors. There wasn't even the shifting of displaced air. How the hell is he doing that!? 

Alex stepped back to regard the full visage of The large newcomer.

Alex glanced up, his eyes tracing the towering figure before him. The man, a giant among the ordinary, bore the stature of those seen on professional basketball courts yet carried the build of ancient Norse warriors—broad-shouldered, solid, a force of nature, but expanded in scale. Exponentially. Unlike the stretched silhouettes common to such heights, he presented a robustness, as if his very essence had been forged in the halls of Valhalla, magnified in every dimension. He stood there, bending his knees ever so slightly so the top of his head only just brushed against the ceiling. He seemed a figure pulled from legends, yet the warmth that emanated from him bridged the gap between myth and man. To Alex, meeting him for the first time, this warmth kindled a sense of familiarity, as if their paths were meant to cross. And how the hell did I not notice him enter the room? Alex was flabbergasted.

“Wow, nice treasure.” The visitor spoke with a casual air, his eyes sweeping over the room as if looking at a collection of sticks rather than piles of relics and legendary items. “I'm looking for a guy… Alrick- no that's not it. Alvick? I have a message for him.” he repeated, his head swiveling to Alex as if drawn by the force of his words. “Ah, yes. That was it. Which one of you is Alex? The baron and some others are looking for you in town.” 

“Umm… would you happen to know why?” Alex asked, stepping forward with caution.

“Something about a dungeon reaching  critical point.” the man shrugged with sheer disinterest. 

“Oh that blasted incursion dungeon, " John groaned atop his pile of gold. “Honestly, I wouldn't go if I were you, Alex. Everyone that goes there dies. Even the best of them.” John twirled his ornate and clearly magical scythe to a stop, as if emphasizing the finality of his point. “Just ignore the summons, if the Baron heads there they might stand a chance.”

The messenger quirked a brow “Huh. you’re smarter than you look, kid.”

John dropped his ornate scythe and sat up, a look of warm familiarity radiating from his form. 

“Oh, hey Fred.”

Soul of Blades - Chapter 47: Altered

Alex frowned, confusion and concern etched across his face. "What did you do? And where is the Queen's mana core?"

Mira shifted uncomfortably and her wary gaze met his. "Look, calm down," she began, her voice a mix of defensiveness and regret. "I had to use the core to grow stronger—I didn’t even get a chance to see the second Insight, it’s reward… I had to give up on trying to understand it to save him. It was the only way to bri-” she paused, hesitant to continue. “It was all I could do to save him."

John propped himself up on his elbows, looking between Alex and Mira. A smile cracked his pale face. "Dude, it’s ok. It’s better than being dead. I don’t think I had enough blood to make it, anyway."

Alex stared at John, his silhouette illuminated by the dim bioluminescent light, he felt the sound waves of his words deep into the surface of John's legs, painting an image of false humanity. While the rest of him was normal and human, nothing but carapace and insectile muscle lay beneath the surface of his legs. "And John's legs...?" His voice trailed off, lost for words.

Mira diverted her gaze momentarily, then locked eyes with Alex. "The queens core," she murmured, a trace of mystery in her tone. “It wasn’t anything like the others.”

Alex's attention returned to Mira, noting the changes in her appearance. Mira stood in the chamber, gold strands of her hair falling around her shoulders to catch the light in a way that sparkled suspiciously like gold would. Wait, that's not ‘like’ gold, that is actual gold, Alex’s eyes widened in surprise as he peered closer. The material essence of each thin strand of her hair reflected the sparse light, its metallic nature causing the light to sparkle and shift with her every move. She tilted once more and the movement was made with an ease that suggested perfect control, a mastery of movement and dexterity reflected in the lightness of her stance.

Her form now bore little resemblance to the human girl Alex had known. She looked older, somewhere around Alex’s Pyran age of being in the early twenties. And she was kinda… hot.

As he drew nearer, the unique blend of colors in her eyes came into focus, akin to precious metals finely wrought into a singular form.

In that moment, Alex found himself momentarily lost, entranced by the way she seemed to embody the delicate balance between earthly beauty and something almost celestial. It was as if she walked in a realm where time and beauty conspired to carve from her every feature an ode to perfection, leaving those who beheld her in silent awe. Stepford wife much, Alex thought as he took a step closer. Gold aside, how does she look so… good? Like the exact type of woman most would be extremely attracted to? What are the chances? Alex thought with mild suspicion, and why does that make me suspicious? He was beginning to realize that being reborn into a magical world where everything tried to kill him either immediately or at its earliest convenience was beginning to alter his views on almost everything he encountered.

She held near-perfect features. Almost… too perfect. It was uncanny, as though her appearance had been a result of design rather than genetics.

"You're different," Alex noted, his eyes tracing the swirling trails of metal in her sword before returning to meet hers.

Miras hands briefly tightened into fists, then slowly relaxed as she opened and closed her hands, looking at them as if seeing them for the first time. "I had to... for him," she spoke softly, almost to herself.

“But why is the change so… drastic?" he asked.

Mira looked down at herself, then back up at Alex. "I… evolved. More than once. The system-visions and the Queen’s core helped with that." She turned to face John.

With every move and gesture, her physical conditioning was evident, betraying a discipline akin to that of a seasoned athlete. It was a conditioning Alex knew had only been gained in minutes at the least, or hours at the most through some change that had occurred during his Dao-vision. That’s it, the Dao, the realization hit him swiftly. The other insight was an insight of evolution. That has to be it.

Alex tilted his head, observing Mira's transformation with a mix of curiosity and concern. "Do you have a Dao now?" His question cut through the quiet of the chamber, resonating off the stone walls.

Mira paused, her gaze distant as if peering into memories only she could see. "The visions… The Dao? Is that what that was?" Her brows furrowed in confusion, then widened in awe as her voice trailed off, a sense of wonder mingling with confusion. "Indescribable," she finally whispered, her focus returning. "It was indescribable." She shook her head slowly, her eyes lost in the recollection. "It was too much all at once, and there was so much more, I felt it, it was endless." She glanced at her hands, as if seeing them anew. Her eyes seemed to reflect a universe of possibilities, untamed and vast. "It was overwhelming, like a torrent... endless. I tried to understand, to grasp..." Her fingers flexed open, then closed into a tight grip around the sword she held, its metal swirling as if responding to her turmoil.

A pause, with winds from the deep crack in the chamber swirling dust between them.

"I was so close." Her voice carried a wistful tone, a whisper of the vastness she had touched.

Then her expression clouded, shoulders slumping ever so slightly. "I'm still trying, but it's too hard. Too much." She clenched her fists, her knuckles whitening, the sword of swirling metal in her grip quivering from the force. "The visions gave me skills instead. But there was so much more, just out of reach." Her voice faltered and determination flared in her eyes as she looked up,  “I won’t stop until I grasp it. It was so vast, It felt... infinite."

Mira's gaze drifted off, as if sifting through a sea of unspoken thoughts.

"Yeah, that sounds like the Dao," Alex nodded slowly before leaning in slightly, intrigued by her struggle and resolve. "But you said the insights gave you skills? The visions?"

Mira took a deep breath, steadying herself. She nodded, a fleeting smile crossing her lips despite the weight of her revelations. "Yeah…" She met his gaze, a glimmer of determination shining through. "‘Evolutionary Healing’ & ‘Natural Reselection’." She explained, her voice gaining strength. "Evolutionary Healing lets me heal others, but it shifts their biology to match mine, and I can only use it once a week.” She paused, considering her next words carefully. "And Natural Reselection, it’s like my body learns from each brush with death, growing stronger from any wound that fails to kill me."

Alex absorbed her words, he didn't know the insights would give skills to those who failed to grasp even a shred of the Dao. But it made sense, a reward had to be rewarding, and to merely witness the Dao would set you on a path to forever seek it. But those skills… So as long as she doesn't die she’ll get  stronger in a way that counters whatever harmed her? Damn… that's pretty OP. He considered his own gains, But then again, I just got an unblockable attack… A ‘Probability Cut’… I wonder how the two skills would interact? I mean, the Dao attack only seemed to alter a millisecond of the attack to guarantee some form of contact but not the type of contact; it could be a glancing blow, a brush, or even a block… it simply means the blow can't be evaded. So how would the skill cause her evolve past that? His curiosity was purely academic. Maybe that's why parts of her are gold? Her hair, eyes and nails… maybe even her bones… Like the Queens sword that struck her…

As Alex pondered Mira's transformation, connecting the dots between John's monstrous legs hidden beneath human flesh and Mira's nature. A realization dawned on him; if John's legs, now partially monstrous, were healed using the changes gained from consuming the Queen's mana core, given Mira's drastic evolution it stood to reason that John may not be entirely human.

Alex took a step closer to the guard, examining John's legs. "But your legs… what’re you, half human now?"

"Not the usual recovery, huh. How can you even tell, anyway?" John laughed, the sound ringing slightly in the chamber. “But nah,” He examined his legs, bending a knee before straightening to test his balance on legs that were no longer just his own. Then he grinned with a crooked smile, ”I’m still the real deal."

Alex’s brow furrowed at John's comment as he paused, a sigh escaping his lips as the weight of their completed journey settled in. “Well, we made it.” His two companions nodded in agreement, a sad look still held on Mira’s brow.

Alex eyes scanned their surroundings in search of an exit, as more poignant details recaptured his notice. Scattered trinkets surrounded them, treasure ripe for the taking. “Look,” he said, pointing at the nearest mound, then to another, a smile beginning to form. “That's a hell of a lot of treasure.”

John's head cocked at Alex’s words and er followed his gaze. “Sure, but…What's hell got to do with treasure?”

***

In the aftermath of their exchange, the trio turned their attention to the chamber's treasures. Swords, armor, and trinkets littered the ground, a chaotic path of opportunity left by their battle. Alex moved first, his eyes drawn to items glowing with an inner magic visible only to him. He paused constantly at items that seemed to hum with energy, touching a sword that held a faint line of many racing up its centre to feel vibrations under his tracing fingers. The touch sent it swiftly to his Inventory’s pocket dimension.

Mira and John followed, each picking through the remnants of the Queen's hoard for items of their own.

Mira knelt beside a shattered chest, her hands sifting through the debris until they closed around a set of bracers that hummer softly with latent energy. With undivided focus, she carefully extracted the pair of armguards from the rubble to examine them closely, turning the items over in her hands to catch the light. The faint hum emanating from them suggested an innate magic, and her fingers traced their contours with a reverence reserved for what she evidently believed to be treasures of significant power.

"Wait, how are we going to carry all of this back?" John gaze swept over the amassed hoard with practical concern, his voice breaking the concentrated silence. Without a word, Alex retrieved the spatial satchel from his side, its ordinary appearance belying its extraordinary function. He experimentally placed his finger in the item, ready to jerk away at the first sign of mishap.

[Access equipment designated ‘Spatial Satchel’s dimensional space?]

Alex felt his mana briefly surge to connect with the small pouch, before his senses expanded even further to connect with a pocket space that was only slightly smaller than the volume and contours of his Inventory skill. There within the space lay two rocks he had placed in the satchel earlier. With a flex of his will, the items fell from the satchel to clatter to the ground. He unceremoniously tossed the satchel in Johns direction.

"Here, take this, but I'll need it back once we're done," Alex said with a flick of his wrist.

John extended his a to catch the satchel without taking his eyes off the pile before him, immediately, he moved to store the treasures away.

Alex paused, a thought had occurred to him. There may be more dimensional bags among the Queen's hoard. It might be a good idea to check, he thought, storing another item away in his personal inventory. “John… John, John?” The guard appeared to ignore him. “hey! dude?”

John held a crown that sparkled and appeared to bend any light that it touched “oh sorry, I was distracted.” He tore his gaze away from the crown as if pulled from a daze.

Alex paused to eye John and the crown curiously. "Look out for any more bags like this one. They could be among the treasure."

The collection of treasures grew as they continued their search. Each item held a uniqueness, a remnant of power or history from the world Alex was still coming to understand. Just under a century's worth of conquests lay around him, held in treasures that he was certain was among the best the queen had possessed. It stood to reason that lesser items would be distributed amongst the swarm, while the best remained as trophies or rewards.  Among the items, a few stood out for their exceptional magic, their imperceptible inner glow, only noticeable once in close proximity, acted as soft beacons to Alex's senses.

Alex turned the latest relic he found in his hand, its edges reflecting the light of the chamber. It was one of many. "Well, at least we didn't come back empty-handed. Though I suppose surviving is its own kind of treasure, isn't it?"

John's brows furrowed, his mouth agape for a brief moment before snapping shut.  "What? No, treasure is its own kind of treasure,"

He shook his head and a sigh escaped him, sharp and disbelieving. "Please don't say something so upsetting in front of me again." John then picked up a nearby sword, testing its weight with a few practiced swings before storing it away.

Well he's not wrong, Alex thought with a smirk,  eyeing the town guard. John's gaze was locked onto Alex’s dimensional pouch, held firm in his grasp. There was more than just chamber light reflected in his eyes. It was as if the very thought of riches unfound and a lifetime of wealth, estates, renown and quite possibly a maid of some sort were right there within reach, all stored within the enchanted bag.

Alex stifled a chuckle.

Alex, now significantly more powerful but also deeply contemplative of the fading visions implications, rose to his feet. There were still many treasures left, but he had scoured the chamber to pick any items with even a hint of magic, all that remained where masterworks or items made from precious metals. The three of them carried everything they’re skills and equipment would allow them to, with the most precious items stored safely in Alex’s Inventory skill, and spatial satchel. Thoughts of his vision and the dangers of the imperials became replaced with thoughts of treasure, the power boost he would gain from the wealth of magical items he now possessed, and a need to escape the underground labyrinth he found himself at the heart of.  He stored the last magicail tem away, leaving behind a silence that spoke volumes.

"Mira," Alex repeated, nodding. "We need to make sure that the townsfolk didn't die in vain and that this," he gestured to the fallen queen, "ends the threat to the nearby settlements."

Mira nodded in agreement, her determination clear. "There are others who were taken. We should free them, if they're still here. I have something I'd like to ask, once we're done. "

John nodded in agreement and the trio rose, each of them carrying as much treasure as they could.

Together, they searched the queen's chamber and its many halls, heading deep into its branching pathways to uncover hidden cells where the swarm had kept her prisoners. They found a few survivors, disoriented but alive, and began the process of leading them out of the labyrinthine hive. The rite had long since ended, and the surviving members of the swarm, now note powerful, all seemed to bow in reverence before Mira, treating her as a replacement for the massive void of purpose left in the queen's wake. The survivors watched in confusion, too scared to question their escape from certain death.

Eventually, they made it out of the hive, through the wilderness, and back to the town where they were met with praise and scrutiny in equal measure. John answered all questions and reported in, before racing away to return to Alex, the light of monetary greed still bright in his eyes.

They left the guards and survivors to find a blacksmith, it was time to appraise thier hoard.

The trio advanced through the narrow, mist-laden streets of the awakening town, their footsteps muffled by the damp cobblestone. Alex led, the eyeing his surroundings with curiosity, his enchanted armor hidden under his worn cloak.

John trailed a step behind to cast a weary eye over the shadowed alleyways. The discovery of more treasure than he'd ever hoped to see in his life had him on edge, despite not a soul knowing what they carried in their possession, he kept a weary gaze, as if each corner held would-be thieves eager to rob them of their bounty. "If Gren’s ale is as potent as our find, we might need to brace ourselves for quite the morning," he murmured, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement at his attempt to alleviate his nerves. John often laughed at his own jokes, and why wouldn't he? As far as he was concerned, he was hilarious.

Mira remained silent, her focus on the path ahead, though John's attempt at levity brought a fleeting, reluctant smile to her lips.

John, his demeanor undimmed by the oppressive atmosphere, kept pace behind Alex. "You reckon Gren’s ever laid eyes on something like this?," he mused, his voice a low rumble in the quiet of the morning.

The blacksmith's forge loomed ahead, its dim light a beacon in the predawn gloom.  As they approached, the billowing from within offered a welcoming warmth to their weary bones. They entered it's interior. Grenthar himself, a smith of some renoun who Alex had discovered to be John’s uncle, stood as a silhouette against the flames, his figure imposing, shaped by years of toil. A bang from his hammer sounded in time with their entrace.

Grenthar, the silhouette framed against the flickering flames, tilted his head while hammering as he caught sight of John stepping forward.

"Hope you're ready for a bit of history, Gren. We've brought back something that's either going to make us legends or the most cursed fools this side of the kingdom." John pulled out Alex’s satchel, and a dagger of flaming ice sprouted into existence, falling to the ground among several items of a similar magical nature. Soon a small hoard lay between them.

Grenthar grunted, setting aside his work to appraise the mysterious artifact. Alex unwrapped his crystal energy stealing blade, its bright blue hue a beacon against even the blazing interior of the forge.

The blacksmith's eyes narrowed as skeptical curiosity, surprise, a mix of recognition and apprehension sweeped across his rugged features before settling into a facade of stoic indifference. He reached out slowly, as if fearing the ancient power his skills told him were buried in pieces among the pile.

"Careful," John said, "wouldn't want to turn the forge into a historical site before we've even had breakfast."

Despite the tension, a gruff chuckle escaped Grenthar. He parted the pile and picked at a weapon adorned in sharp rubies. Grenthar leaned in, steeling himself to examine the blade more closely, his experienced eyes taking in every detail. He spoke with gruffness that laced every word. "Let's see if your treasure’s worth the trouble,"

Soul of Blades - Chapter 46: The BloodSeer’s Conquering Test Completion

Authors note: apologies for the delay guys. This chapter suffered from a case of perfectionism, where I wasnt  happy with the outcome and did not want to release it until it was ‘perfect’. It was originally intended to just be the cultivator wrecking a world but ended up becoming something a little more. To be honest I'm still not happy with it and wish I had the time to improve it, but I realise that's just perfectionism talking and would lead to paralysis and nothing being posted. It's 6k+ words but I think moving forward I will stick to 2k words for now just to get chapters to you guys on time and avoid release delays.

Anyways, thanks for your patience and Enjoy!

Chapter 46: The BloodSeer’s Conquering Test Completion

To Jin, water worlds were the cosmic equivalent of stepping in a puddle with wet socks, except the puddle was an entire planet and the sock was… every single article of clothing you wore. For Jin, navigating the trench layers of a water world was as disorienting as it was bothersome. The light and sound played tricks, distorting his senses and making every shadow a potential threat. He had to rely on his ability to sense blood to see, rather than his enhanced senses. Without solid ground, he missed the simple pleasure of standing firm; floating aimlessly felt like being perpetually swayed by forces outside of his control. The vastness bred isolation, it wasn't the isolation of nature, filled with beauty. No this was a realm of murky darkness where the only company was his ever-amplifying sense of solitude. Being eternally soaked added a layer of constant discomfort, increased a hundredfold by the fact that he was wearing robes. The dark below was another world altogether, where sunlight dared not reach, and where the cold seeped into his bones. But perhaps the most unnerving were the leviathans, the Kraken and the like. The ocean’s monsters could get so vast they made the concept of size laughable, their sheer size mocking practicality and making Jin question the audacity of nature's design in this watery realm. What was the need to make something so big? What was the point? It wasn't as though nature was in competition.

On higher worlds, The deepest trenches could bear pressures that even Jin would feel. Their denizens could bear physicalities that touched upon his own. It was fortunate that the grade of the world was set so far below his capabilities. It still would not have been dangerous if it wasn’t, but it would have been infinitely more annoying.

All of these thoughts idly crossed Jin’s mind as he faced a regiment of brave warriors that had foolishly hunted him down as he lay waste to the first underwater metropolis he had encountered. Jin's fingers twitched, and blood turned to blades. Countless blades shot forth, long and thick instruments of hardened blood. The blades were large enough to slay legions. None could stop or evade their sweeping route, slicing through water and flesh alike. Buildings crumbled in sweeps under his wrath, their once-glorious spires now debris, screams ended before they even began as the blades destroyed all. In seconds, the city lay in ruins.

The air around the warriors shifted, an invisible force gripping their beings. One by one, they crumpled, their bodies betraying them in the most intimate manner. Blood, the very essence of their life, rebelled at Jin's command. It seeped from their eyes, ears, and mouths, weaving into the air like macabre ribbons.

In the midst of the chaos, a child, hidden in the shadows, watched in horror. Jin turned towards the new witness, his eyes alight with a perverse curiosity. With a mere thought, he beckoned the child forward, manipulating the life within the young heart to draw him nearer.

The child, unable to resist the pull, stepped into the light. Jin knelt, bringing himself to the boy's level. "Do you understand power now?" he whispered, his voice a mixture of honey and venom. The child, tears mingling with the blood on his cheeks, nodded silently.

Jin touched the boy's forehead, a symbolic gesture. The blood from the fallen began to move, encircling them like a vortex. "This," Jin proclaimed, gesturing to the chaos around them, "is the true nature of power. Not to hold, but to command."

He left the boy standing amidst the ruin, a lone survivor in a city of ghosts. As Jin walked away, the ground behind him bloomed with crimson flowers, each petal a trap born from the lives taken.

The mer-child followed him.

Jin halted. He turned slightly, his eyes never meeting the Childs but aware of its presence.

He lifted his right hand, palm up, towards the mer-child. A single drop of blood rose from his palm, quivering in the water between them.  Blood, dark and thick, twisted midair into a sharp form. The drop transformed, sharpening into a dart of hardened blood.

Without turning, Jin flicked his wrist, sending the dart slicing through the water towards the child. It shot forward swiftly and the child saw the dart coming, too late to move out of its path. It impacted its chest, causing the sea-child’s steps to falter at the impact as it released an unheard cry and sharp gasp of air bubbles in pain. The sea-child fell, a trail of blood seeping from where the dart hit.

His form collapsed into the sediment. Around him, a cloud of red bloomed, dispersing slowly in the restless water. Silence.

Touching the deep wound in its chest, the child felt the mark, his fingers coming away with brief traces of his own blood that melded into the surrounding water. From the ground he looked at Jin, then at his bloodied fingers.

Jin watched the sea-child’s reaction, remaining expressionless. He turned away and continued forward.

Gathering strength, the Mer-child rose with his gaze fixed on Jin's retreating form. He pushed up from the debris-covered ground to cause rocks and coral to float away idly, determination etched on his face despite the pain. Jin's back was turned to him as if nothing had occurred. As if he had not just destroyed an entire city. Taking a deep, steadying breath of oxygen-filled water, the child moved faster, a determined set to his small shoulders. He followed, leaving a trace of blood in the depths behind him that dispersed quickly in the water, his hand pressing against the deep wound.

The merchild kept his distance, yet did not turn away, his steps were deliberate and cautious and his pained eyes never left the strange being that had destroyed everything he had ever known.

***

Jin's boot connected with a shard, the sound sharp in the underwater silence. The red light played across his expression, revealing nothing as he advanced.

The submerged city lights had long since faded and the radiance that remained was the glow from Jin's magic that light wove through the water in all directions, bathing the space in red light and drawing elongated maroon shadows across the ocean floor. It reminded Jin of the light of a blood moon.

Jin’s attention shifted, caught by the swift passage of a fish through the empty remnants of a window frame, disappearing into the darkness beyond. He could have flown off in a whirl of speed, leaving the child behind to bleed out, or drifted away quickly, or he could have even swam with such speed the child would have thought he had vanished, but he liked walking through the ocean's seabed. When he walked, each step caused the sediment to swirl and settle back down, it reminded Jin of his path's transformative nature, mirroring the cycle of destruction, change, silence… and transformation.

He considered the child pursuing him, the smaller and less assured figure who trailed behind him was a mere silhouette against the underwater ruins, moving forward despite bleeding from the deep wound he had given it. Jin had been drifting for quite some time through the city's waters which were bathed in blood. He detected almost eighty millilitres belonging to the injured child, around thirty percent of the blood in its body. The world was most likely beginning to spin and sway before the sea-childs vision. It was beginning to show signs of obvious confusion and disorientation. It’s intake of water through its gills- its breathing- was becoming more rapid and shallow.

And still it pursued him, webbed fingers pressing into its wound to stem the bleeding.

"What’s your name?" Jin’s voice came out cold and detached, demanding.

The child, dwarfed by the shadow of the destroyer, hesitated, his voice a mere wisp. Finally, he whispered, "Xers."

Jin's gaze, unyielding, bore into the mer-child. "Do you not hate me? I destroyed everything you know. Your parents."

The mer-child's eyes, reflecting the ruins around them, revealed a turmoil within. "I had no parents but…" His voice trailed off, the silence speaking volumes before he found the strength to continue. "I had friends." A beat passed, filled with the echoes of his loss.

"Yes, I hate you."

Jin, unmoved by the confession, observed the child, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "But you still follow."

Xers's answer was silence, filled with an absence that outweighed the very trenches in their depth—fear, necessity, and a haunting loss of anywhere else to turn.

Xers his lips moved soundlessly, a whisper lost to the sea. He was a small shape in the vastness, unheard.

"Louder," Jin demanded, his patience as thin as the red light surrounding them.

"…Nowhere," the Xer's voice barely trembled in the cold depths. He paused, his breath a visible intake in the cold water. "…There's nowhere else," he murmured, the words barely escaping his lips before dissolving into the ocean's vastness.

"Misfortune on your part," Jin's tone was as steady as the dark currents swirling around them.

A pulse ran through the water, but it did not belong to either of their heartbeats. There- Jin felt it again. One, two- no, hundreds of entities were converging on their location. Pulses of blood, drawn to them like moths to a flame. They were predators, schools of them honing on the lake of blood that filled the dead city's waters. The purest blood stemmed from the wounded child, fresh and undiluted. Shadows shifted beyond the red light of his blood magic within the seabed's depths. He felt them vividly, pulses of blood of all sizes. Schools of predators searching for the missed feast. One creature surged forward, its body elongated and sleek, cutting through the water with ease. Another followed, its form bulkier, adorned with spiny protrusions that seemed to hum with bio-luminescent energy. Hundreds of them charged, large and small, some with razor-sharp fins, and rows of teeth that led deep into their gullets, others with glowing bulbous eyes, all moved with a hungry purpose, targeting the bleeding child.

Jin stood amidst the swirling currents, blood racing towards him like a harbinger of doom. One attempted to consume him but bounced harmlessly off his protective shell. Its interest waned to turn instead toward the child with renewed hunger.

Jin moved without thought. His thumb twitched, and-

Blood surged, and red light swelled, eager to respond to his subtle command. A whip emerged, formed from blood. It was long and thick, sharp and gleaming, lined with barbs of crystallized red. It shone with the faintest light of Qi and a touch of Jin’s Dao.

It surged forward, cracking through the water to send a concussion wave.

A predator of the deep, with thick trench-resistant scales like daggers and bulbous eyes lit with intelligence and primal hunger surged towards the child, Xers. Jin glanced, and the tendril of liquid crimson shot forth, wrapping around the creature. It struggled briefly before being sliced in two, its halves drifting away in the current. At this, hundreds of forms- each unique in their predatory efficiency- abandoned Jin and surged towards the crouching child.

Jim simply clenched a fist, and the entirety of the surrounding blood converged into a rippling ball. Out of this ball stepped figures akin to men, but not quite. These figures, born of the blood itself, varied in size but shared identical features - sharp, angular faces framed by strands of dark, flowing hair, eyes blazing with an unnatural crimson hue, sparking with Qi. Their bodies were lean and sinewy, clad in sleek, form-fitting armour crafted from the same pulsating blood that birthed them. With each emergence, they wielded whips of coagulated blood, elongated tendrils snaking out from their hands with deadly precision. The sphere began to diminish in size, each reduction accompanied by a burst of crimson that took the form of something akin to men, a congregation. They struck with precision, each blow dispersing the attackers, turning the water around the mer-child into a maelstrom of chaos and bloody destruction.  The whips sliced through the water, cleaving through creatures with ease. Their bodies, bisected, floated away in a cloud of their own demise.

They protected the injured Merchild.

The congregation of summoned warriors became a deluge, countless deadly arcs of bloody conjured whips, each moving with a life of its own, following only the barest hint of Jin's intent to lay waste to the schools of predators. The endless tendrils constricted, bisected, and lashed out sharp as night to slice through water with a level of precision that turned predators into prey. Each crack of the deadly hemokinetic whips cleaved through the throng, their bodies eviscerated, leaving trails of disturbed water and fading light in their wake.

In seconds, hundreds became none, and the place became once again dyed in the red light of the fallen. The child's eyes were wide and took in the scene with a mix of fear and fascination.

Jin sighed. He didn't know why he did that, the child, Xers, was supposed to have died there.

He turned to the sea-child safe behind him. Their eyes met, and Jin's presence loomed large as he fixed his gaze on the small form before him.

His pursuer paused behind him, carefully stepping over rubble with its attention fixed on Jin's unmoving form. Eyes locked with his. A voice broke the quiet, reaching out towards Jin and sending ripples through the water. "Why?"

Jin stopped, surrounded by the remnants of what once was. He remained still and finally acknowledged the bleeding child’s question floating between them. "Why what?" His voice, even, returned to Xers without turning.

A few steps behind, the Mer-child hesitated, its gaze shifting from Jin to the debris-strewn path."Why all of this?" A  gesture made encompassed their desolate surroundings, a sweeping of tiny arms and tail. “Why destroy the city?”

"Because it stood in the way," Jin’s voice carried back, blending with the ambient sounds of their submerged world. his back still to the child. Jin's gaze lingered on a fractured column, his expression unseen as his fingers grazed its rough surface.

The underwater city’s sole survivor looked around at the destruction enveloping them, Its eyes moved across the remnants of buildings, absorbing the scale of loss, then back to Jin. "But what was it in the way of?" Xers’ voice was not pleading but bathed in confusion. He sought understanding.

Turning, Jin faced the dying child, the red light from the surrounding blood arts outlining his figure. "Everything. Nothing. It doesn’t matter." His words, clear and unforgiving, lingered in the ripples they sent through the water.

A pause. Xers absorbed Jin's words with his gaze shifting from Jin to the broken world around them.

Jin resumed walking, his movements smooth and unhindered by the water. "It's a cycle. Creation. Existence. Destruction." His low murmur blended with the soft sounds of their underwater environment.

"And what cycle are we in now?" Xers's query was soft, almost lost in the movement of the sea.

Jin paused to look back at his small pursuer, his silhouette striking in the red. "Transformation," he declared, the word dispersing into the water.

They moved through the skeletal remains of buildings, each step stirring clouds of silt that swayed like spirits in the water. Jin stopped before a vast, open plaza, its floor mosaic depicting the MerEmperer, a figure of majesty and might. He scoffed lightly, his gaze drifting to the boy Xers. "They believe their rulers are eternal, unchallenged by time or the tides."

Xers looked up, his expression one of confusion and loss. "Is that not true?"

Jin's laughter was a low rumble, dispersing the water around them. "There is only one emperor and he is not from this world."

Xers failed to grasp the meaning behind Jin’s words. More silence followed.

"Where are we going?" Xers’s voice broke the silence, small yet carrying through the water.

Jin turned, regarding Xers with a gaze that seemed to pierce through the dimness. "To understand power, you must first witness its absence," he stated, his voice the only warmth in the cold depths.

They approached the edge of the city, where the seafloor dropped away into darkness.

Jin stopped, looking out into the abyss. "Beyond lies the unknown, untouched by your people, feared and revered."

Xers, standing at Jin's side, peered into the depths. "What's out there?"

Jin's response was cryptic, a half-smile playing on his lips. "Opportunity. Challenges. True tests of power."

Without another word, Jin stepped forward, descending into the darkness. Xers, after a moment's hesitation, followed, leaving the ruins of his past behind.

Xers swayed, the strength draining from his small frame as he clutched at his chest. A dark stain spread through the fabric of his tunic in contrast to the pale skin beneath. His knees buckled, and he collapsed, the ocean's embrace slowing his fall.

Jin watched, impassive, as the child struggled. Then, with a fluid motion, he extended his hand, palm facing Xers. Jin placed a curse in the child’s blood, in the very heart of the wound he had inflicted. Blood curses could affect entire bloodlines if expertly enacted, to cause perpetual weakness, madness, or even partial control over the afflicted's actions. But Jin did not weaken the child, Xers. Instead, he gave him a boon. After all, blood and transformation could be used to create just as easily as it could destroy. The curse would form a weapon based on Xers’ intent to defend himself, and it would follow the child’s every whim once mastered. It would ensure his survival for a time, at least.

Then, a final act of healing. Crimson energy gathered, swirling between them, weaving intricate patterns in the water. The blood seeping from Xers's wound responded, drawn to Jin's call, halting the flow. The energy solidified, forming a bright, pulsating red crystal over the injury. It fused seamlessly with Xers's flesh, mimicking the lost tissue with uncanny precision. Xers's labored breathing steadied, the immediate threat to his life contained. Xers' eyes opened to stare at Jin's shadow looming over the fading red light of the ruins as they drifted into the darkness. Jin’s voice cut through the water's silence.

“Well, come then. This world isn't going to destroy itself now, is it.”

***

Two days. That was all it took.

On the first day, Jin obliterated four vast metropolises. The first city's defenders had attempted to fight back using strange workings of mana and artifice. These devices, large tubes of metal and magic that stretched for miles, channelled and controlled the currents. The world was completely submerged and filled with currents, having some currents that could span the breadth and width of the entire planet. Venturing into the smallest of them felt like bearing a powerful blow, and the largest could sweep away even the highest levelled beings. But Jin had no level. Encountering currents that could displace even the strongest of this world's beings, Jin dismissed their force with a thought. Their power while formidable to others posed little more than a brief hindrance to his movements. It slowed him down, yes, and It nearly shattered his defensive shell and forced him to reinforce it with his Dao. But that was all. To hinder him at all was an achievement in itself, he supposed.

Then, in the brief moment he had stumbled with the weight of an entire world pressing into him, Xers had cried out to the city's warriors, believing Jin had finally met his match. He asked to be saved. At the sight of the Mer-child’s altered physiology and the glowing red blood-crystal that formed a part of his chest, they turned their weapons on him to target and eliminate the ‘demon child.’

Xers, arms splayed in futile defence, cried out as the weapon Jin had cursed into his being sprang to life in response to the child's intent, making short work of his attackers. Whether intentional or not, Xers slew them.

In the aftermath they paused as silence enveloped them, the ocean's breath and the crumbling of structure the only sounds.

Jin broke the silence, his voice cutting through the water with ease, "You see the extent of what was done here."

Xers, trailing behind, absorbed the magnitude of his surroundings. After a moment, he ventured, "Yes, it’s... it’s all gone."

"There’s purity in destruction," Jin continued, not slowing his pace through the rubble. "An elegance in erasing complexities that builds space for the new." He spoke, his words slicing as sharply as his movements through the water. “A clean slate,"

Xers absorbed this, the concept was foreign yet fascinating. "And the lives? The history?" he pressed, unwilling to let the conversation fade into the watery abyss.

"Collateral," Jin stated simply as if discussing the weather and not the obliteration of entire worlds.

"Collateral..." Xers repeated, the word tasting bitter. "And me? am I not collateral?"

A smirk, fleeting and chilling, played on Jin's lips. "Perhaps. Or perhaps you represent the fact that in the vast tapestry of time, there are threads that refuse to be cut," Jin admitted.

"Time? But what does that mean?" Xers pushed, seeking clarity.

Jin sighed. "It means that even I am subject to whims of fate… and its threads," he turned away, then, and resumed his path through the darkness leaving Xers to ponder the cryptic morsel of insight.

Xers considered the label of ‘thread’ given to him. It was a label both isolating and defining.

"So I’m a thread, with no place in the world," he muttered to himself, more statement than question.

"Not quite, that is up to you," Jin conceded. "You could be destined to be lost and helpless, or maybe you are to carve a place for yourself amidst the chaos. Like I did."

Silence settled once more, a comfortable cloak around Jin, an itching shroud over Xers. The distance between them shortened. Xers, swimming alongside the path Jin illuminated, pondered his lesson. His thoughts were a tangled mass of fear, admiration, and a budding realization of the cruel realities of power.

"Will you destroy again?" Xers's question pierced the silence, tentative yet necessary.

“Yes” Jin's reply was devoid of emotion, a statement of fact as inevitable as the tide.

"Will you kill me too?" The mer-child's eyes, wide, searched Jin's face for a hint of his fate.

"Perhaps." Jin turned away, his figure blending with the shadows of the sunken city.

***

On the second day, hundreds of cities fell. The pair tore through them all. The land was flayed and the seas boiled. Some cities summoned behemoths, leviathans controlled by artifacts of the system. They targeted demonic cultivator and altered Child indiscriminately. They saw Xers as nothing more than an extension of Jin. Xers was forced to fight until the blood weapon that lay within his being became as a second body, encasing him much like the destroyer he accompanied was encased.

The behemoths advanced, mountains of flesh and hunger. Its jaws, capable of swallowing the moon, snapped shut on empty water. Jin's blood mist assassins, armed with tendril whips and born of blood and vengeance, circled the giants. The figures took shape, solidifying into forms both elegant and deadly, their movements as natural in the water as those they were created to slay. They were his wrath made manifest.

The behemoths faltered, and colossus were brought low by a thousand cuts.

A sudden shift in the water drew their attention. A lone figure approached where others fled, a warrior, moving with purpose among the ruins to unerringly head toward them. Jin paused, watching. The merman carried a single spear, its glow blazing with magic and flame beneath the water, lighting all in its path and burning any blood it touched.

Xers's gaze followed the figure, a mix of wonder and apprehension in his eyes. "Is he not afraid?" he whispered, more to himself than to Jin.

"Fear is a choice," Jin stated, his eyes never leaving the figure. Jin smiled. Conflict pleased him. He extended his hand, palm down, focusing. Beneath his barriers surface, the lifeblood of countless beings within the city called to him. It was an orchestra he was all too eager to conduct.

With fluid movements and a single spoken word, Jin summoned a blood construct beside him. This being was formed from the very essence of life and stood tall yet humanoid, its arms ending in blades of hardened blood. The construct moved forward, meeting the lone warrior head-on.

The clash was brief. The warrior's weapon shattered upon contact with the construct's arm-blades. He recoiled, attempting to dart away into the darkness unsuccessfully. A look from Jin was all it took for the construct to cut him down. The ocean floor, disturbed by their movements, settled slowly, dust and debris falling back to silence.

As if the floodgates of the abyss had opened, came the onslaught. A myriad of forms, each more nightmarish than the last, surged toward them. Armies to protect a single emperor.

Jin advanced, undeterred by the desolate silence of the underwater ruins. Xers followed in his wake, navigating the debris, a quiet observer to the path of destruction. Accompanying Xers were blades of blood and conjured entities, all bearing elements of Jin’s curse, imbued with materials of higher grades, as stronger as this world’s most durable materials, and all of them connected to the red crystal that made a part of Xers chest, connected by thin strings of blood.  His mastery over Jin’s curse had surprised even the cultivator. “Is this right?” He asked, uncertainty and pain straining his tired adolescent voice.

Jin slowed, then stopped, facing Xers directly. "I doubt many things, child. The morality of my actions is not among them."

"Because you believe yourself above morality?" Xers's gaze on the impending army was unwavering.

"Because morality is a construct, as malleable as the waters we swim in," Jin explained, turning to proceed to the final bastion of the planet's civilisation, and the settlements he sensed along the way.

Calamity ensued.

Jin’s attacks were relentless, fueled by frustration that burned hotter than the suns of his homeland. The seas boiled under his fury and the very currents themselves turned red. Xers was attacked at every turn, forced to fight to defend himself or die. By the seventh city, Xers was no longer defending his life, he was taking theirs. He could see the hatred in their eyes, the fear and disgust. They would try to kill him no matter his actions. It pained him, but he was simply removing the option. Jin had called it ‘Kill or be killed,’ another law of power. Cities continued to fall, and great underwater Metropoli were reduced to ruins in their wake. The mer-tribes fought valiantly, their warriors and mages sacrificing everything to defend their home. They were not enough.

In the aftermath they traversed, Side by side.

Until a palace deep within the sea stood before them as the last beacon of hope. They approached, Imperial and child, harbingers of its fall. The mer-emperor was surrounded by his finest warriors. Each was shaped like men- but larger, taller, stronger, and sturdier, with muscles and dense bones equipped to resist the deep trenches, and gills arrayed to survive the depths of the ocean. A group of warriors who faced certain death and did not look away. The greatest warriors of the merpeople faced Jin in the ruins of their once-glorious capital. They fought with the ferocity of those who had nothing left to lose. Jin, however, fought with the cold efficiency of a god. He asserted dominance in a manner only a cultivator of his stature could conceive. They stood no chance. His ability to see through time, to predict their every move, left them as mere puppets in a show of his design. A general emerged, courage in his eyes. Jin admired the defiance, brief as it was. Jin’s fingers twitched, but Xers raced forward. They clashed, general and cursed child, steel and blood. The general fell, broken, his blood joining Jin's crimson tide.

Jin watched the broken forms of his foes, unmoved. Xers knelt beside him, examining them with wide eyes. "They were good fighters," he murmured, more to himself than to Jin.

Jin nodded in silent acknowledgment of the child's observation. "And now, they are memories."

They rose, drifting through the water, and all that remained of a vast capital was three combatants;  Cultivator, braced Emperor, and child.

The final battle was a spectacle of despair.

The emperor stood proud, a final stand. Jin admired the courage but pitied the futility. He saluted the proud leader, Xers watched the action without understanding. They fought in an exchange of death, with the emperor's blood singing a melody only Jin could hear. The battle ended and the emperor’s blood joined the chorus of the defeated. He fell, lifeless, drifting into the water. Jin turned away, indifferent. Xers lingered to watch the fallen emperor with the understanding of adolescence, and contemplated the fleeting nature of power.

Level 25, level 200, level 789—it didn't matter to the Jin, the imperial prodigy. Because unlike the denizens of this world, Jin didn't have levels. It would take more stats than could ever possibly be acquired in a single year to even hope to match him, and there had been steps put in place long before his time to prevent such an absurd impossibility. Like a storm sweeping through a silent forest, he tore through them all, as effortlessly as one would tear through paper. None could stand before his Dao, an unstoppable force that met no resistance.

Even among the empire's most gifted debutantes, Jin had always been the solitary peak, towering and unreachable. The Dao was a tool for elders, a wild beast that devoured inexperienced fools who dared to explore its depths. It was a forbidden realm, lethal to those who missed a step. It was not a thing initiates had ever been capable of handling, even among demonic cultivators.

The primitive mana users had the system to guide them safely through the Dao, but true power did not lie in safety. In this realm, barren of Qi and untouched by the true Dao, not a single being stood a chance against him.

As the ruins gave way to open water and they left their final destination, Jin halted, turning to face Xers. "What have you learned?" he asked, his tone devoid of expectation.

Xers, the merchild with scales that sparkled like the surface of the sea under the sun, approached Jin with innocence and curiosity unbecoming of someone in the presence of a destroyer. Xers met Jin’s gaze and a myriad of emotions swept through his eyes. "That power... is not in what we hold… but in what we let go," he answered, his voice gaining strength.

Jin nodded, a ghost of approval in his eyes. Without another word, he turned, leading them into the darkness,

Through it all Xers’ level increased to untold heights, encased in blood of his own to mimic his study. His class came into being, a world first; Xers, a Demonic BloodMage. They stood in the ruins of the world, its cities destroyed and its oceans bathed in blood, with only pockets of survivors remaining.

A clean slate.

At the water's edge, Xers swam in silence while contemplating his own identity in the wake of destruction.

"Why did you destroy everything?" Xers finally asked, his voice barely a whisper against the ocean's silence.

Jin stopped, considering the question. "Because power dictates that we could," he answered simply.

Silence. The pair watched the shades of red and blue that painted the oceans surface.

"Will you destroy more worlds?" Xers finally asked, a mix of wonder and fascination in his voice.

"When it suits me," Jin answered, his gaze on the setting horizon.

***

The vision ended. The system's protective sphere began to fade as Alex’s consciousness returned to his resting form.

Alex contemplated the actions he had witnessed. It had not been a quiet unmaking but a spectacle of violence.

One moment you're going about your day, the next, your world's literally turned upside down because some kid didn't like the way water felt, Alex lamented internally. It was the kind of thing you'd laugh at if it weren't so tragically absurd.

The water world, with its mysteries and marvels, had ceased to be, undone by the will of a cultivator who wielded power with the indifference of a god. The fissures that opened, the cities that vanished, the waters that receded—all were the outcomes of a teenager's fleeting interest, a momentary diversion on a cosmic scale. The cultivator's departure had been as unremarkable as his arrival. There was no triumphant exit, no lament for the lost, just the simple, unceremonious movement of one who had grown bored, ready to find a new distraction.

It seemed unlikely, given that the teen had apparently been a genius prodigy of unseen levels. But that did not indicate the capabilities of his peers. It was the depth of his boredom and not malice that spelt doom for the world below him. That vision had not shown his true capabilities, Alex was sure of it. What if the imperials intent on arriving in one year were as talented and powerful as Jin? How strong would Alex have to become?

Jin and Xers had been unstoppable. Alex had watched as one by one, the bastions of the merpeople of varying levels crumbled, their armies decimated, until nothing remained but a cracked seabed devoid of its pure blue  oceans, and skeletal remnants of their once-glorious civilization.

The imperials were unbelievably dangerous.

The year-long induction period no longer felt like a target, but a date of execution.

In the wake of such realisations, Alex contemplated the insight he had gained.

He focused on the Dao, it still surrounded and embraced him as the vision continued to fade. From experience, he knew this was a fleeting opportunity.

What had he just witnessed? Time, blood, and… transformation.

It had been hard to glean much from that insight, much of what he had seen was too far beyond him.

The cultivator’s power was vast in its scope yet limited in reach, it had allowed him a certain foresight, a chance to glimpse at the threads of potential futures with ease. But only the near future, Alex wondered how he could apply that to his understanding of the Dao.

Alex pondered the flow of time, and how its threads had intertwined with destruction and transformation. It's flux, he realised. It's all connected, Entropy and creation. Exchange. He destroyed the world to create Xers. How many more like Xers did the imperial’s actions unknowingly create?

It was beyond Alex, but one aspect of the Imperial’s understanding of time stood out to him. That it existed simultaneously. According to the imperial prodigy’s Dao-Trance, everything that had ever happened and could happen was all around them and it existed all at once. In Alex's vision time appeared as a multidimensional tapestry where past present and future coexisted influencing each other non-linearly. The imperial prodigy had seen transformation as a journey of personal change through deep interaction with universal forces. Destruction and creation had emerged as necessary elements for rebirth, shaping a cyclical view of existence. He had recognized the power of individual choice in shaping destinies and the role of knowledge and insight in achieving profound transformation. Through the vision, Alex was struggling to grasp the full scale of the interconnectedness of life and death within the transformative process.

It was hard to grasp, and Alex could only sense the truth's edges, aided by the insight. only the present moment truly exists, with the past and future being constructs of times tapestry. This realisation emphasized the impermanence and fleeting nature of existence, advocating for a deep appreciation of the present as the only genuine reality. By focusing on the present, individuals could achieve a profound connection with the essence of life, transcending the illusory constraints of time.

Alex rose in meditation, his eyes still closed. He tried to do the same with a swing of his blade.

His blade split into two possibilities, swinging in two separate directions, and flickered in and out of existence as it passed through states of flux. An impact, and the floor beneath his feet bore two long scars the size of men, where his Dao had torn through the arrayed stone.

His head pounded and his world swayed from the single action, it led to a state of overuse after his prolonged battle. He could hardly move from the blinding pounding that assaulted him. He considered what he had just achieved. That's not something a person can block, he thought through the pain. The attack would pass through their defence and strike from two angles. He wasn't sure, but it felt like it wasn't just a simple double attack. His Dao would seek a potential future where his strike landed, so even if you blocked it, somehow… you didn't. 

He could only use it once, but it was an attack that was destined to hit his opponent. 

“Whoa,” Alex muttered in surprise.

[Dao: ‘True Immortality’ - Progress 0.06 > 0.1%]

He opened his eyes at the notification.

That was significant. He felt pleased with his progress, more than pleased. Considering 100% progress in his Dao would presumably mean he could utilise its capabilities without feeling like his brain had been used as a basketball and the pounding drawbacks that made it hard to see and his head feel like it would explode would be completely removed. Not to mention that 100% progress in his Dao could also mean he would gain godly power that eclipsed anything he had seen in his vision. He was ecstatic, it was good progress. 

But Alex couldn't celebrate because three things had caught and captured his attention.

The first was that the slain queen's large and immensely dense mana core was missing.

The second was that John was no longer dying and was whole with two legs. John’s legs resembled the drifters; human on the outside, and on the inside… something else.

And the third, was that Mira looked different. Wildly so. Although he could sense her internal workings, she had transformed to resemble someone he had never seen before.

“What did you do?” Alex spoke a question, an edge of concern creeping into his tone unbidden.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 45: The BloodSeer’s Conquering Test

Authors note: this was another chapter that ended up being much longer than originally intended (about 6/7k words!), so I’ve had to split it in two. I’ll try to get part two out tonight but it will most likely be posted tomorrow as I want part two to have a bit more focus and impact. (p.s. This character is pretty important also!) 

Chapter 45: The BloodSeers Conquering Test

Jin felt at his navel with delicately scarred fingers and marvelled at the constant flow of energy that suffused his being. He would never get used to it. The Treasure stored within his dantian would give him dominion over an entire world. It would claim a world and label it as ‘his’.

He had learned that the cultivators of old had stumbled upon a vast civilisation that exceeded them in everything but strength and acted as all cultivators did in such circumstances; they destroyed them. They used the treasures buried within the ashes of victory to found their Martial Empire.

But that was long ago, so long that records were buried or lost. Much was lost and forgotten since the decimation of that long-dead civilisation countless eons ago, but their World-Treasures remained.

The treasures were a by-product of a bygone era, creations of a foreign civilisation that preceded the very nature of cultivation as they knew it. They were the only devices in existence capable of converting Mana into Qi, an impossible feat. The repurposed Qi could not be used for cultivation, as many had discovered. It would always lead to Qi deviation of the most devastating kind.

But it could be used for body strengthening.

The world treasures Qi would constantly strengthen its owner, reinforcing and remaking their being until every cell in their body was suffused with Qi, giving even someone at the Qi gathering stage the physicality of the weakest cultivator many stages above their own. Qi gathering stage cultivator with attuned high-ranked worlds could bear the physicality of a Nascent Soul Cultivator. They would have none of the Qi within their pitiful dantians, nor the techniques, knowledge, expertise, mastery, or even a tenth of their capabilities. But they would be strong. With a World-Treasure attuned to your being, even the most casual of swings was filled with uncontested power.

Many had tried to replicate the treasure's capabilities but all had died in the attempt, regardless of their cultivation. Personally, Jin did not see a point in even trying; if that lost civilization had been so great, then how did they lose to cultivation?

They could grant a single person a portion of the power, strength, and physicality of an entire world. Anytime a denizen of this world levelled up through their system, a portion of the being's mana would be funnelled straight into his treasure and repurposed. Every time they levelled up, a portion of their mana would be stolen. And when they inevitably fell in battle, the largest portion of their mana would be claimed.

It could often be beneficial to wipe out a world entirely to claim the entirety of its Qi, but that brought far less returns than possessing worlds for centuries. After all, sentients birthed, died, and levelled by the minute.

The world-treasures had made them much more than the cultivators of old. It had made them uncontested and unbeatable, it turned them into the first world conquerors.

And now, finally, Jin had joined their ranks.

***

Jin really hated water worlds.

The vastness before him was an oceanic expanse sprawling beyond sight with the dappled light of the sun brushing illusionary waves along its surface, it did little to stir his admiration.

He had just arrived and already found himself missing the feeling of stone floors beneath his feet.  He missed his home realm, where the elements of fire and earth reigned supreme. He brushed away drops of water that landed on his hands, honed by years of rigorous training and battles that had etched permanent scars upon both his body and soul.

On this body, anyway. Once he ascended his form to the next stage, all blemishes would be erased.

He breathed in deeper and inhaled the air and energies of his new belongings; His World-Treasure, his world, and his latest conquering test.

The horizon vanished as a colossal wave, rivalling the largest structures of Jin's distant home world, surged upward to blot out the sun. It eclipsed his vision and crashed into him. He chanted under his breath, his palms glowing red as a robe of hardened blood materialized around him- not only would it be useful in navigating the depths without being touched by water, it was usually impervious to conventional attacks and would act as a transparent barrier against the oncoming wave. The wave crashed into him and his world shook with its passing.

“Gods, I hate this place,” He muttered to himself and the planet, in case it could hear him.

It wasn't personal, really. Jin could appreciate the aesthetics of a world completely submerged and its many well-constructed underwater metropolises as much as the next omnipotent teenager.

But it was just so… wet.

It was everywhere. The damp clung to the air and attempted to seep into his every breath, even as he hung suspended miles above the ocean's surface.

He sighed in dismay as he floated, suspended above the blue. Everywhere he looked held waves the size of nations and creatures that could swallow cities whole. While he held mild respect for the necessity of oceans and the beauty of their still surfaces, an entire world covered in a single unending deluge was simply overindulgent. And gratuitous. Not to mention the fact that beneath such a world’s watery surfaces lay even worse creatures and experiences.

It was basically one big monster soup.

Monsters weren’t really a problem for even the lowliest of the empire's cultivators. But in water worlds, sometimes it got… weird.

He had to destroy this world so they would grant him another. His disdain wasn't born from a grandiose epic but rather from the mundane irritation akin to finding one's sleeve perpetually wet. Perhaps his next Serf-world would be a high-ranked metropolis of some kind? He had heard they were fun.

Observing the expanse below, his intent was clear— there was no way he was spending the next few years shackled to this realm.

It had to go.

There he floated overlooking a realm entirely alien to his nature and pondering the simplicity with which he could assert his will. His perspective was one of detached curiosity, akin to observing an ant colony through a magnifying glass.

How should he do this?

Reaching deep within and far deeper without, Jin connected with his Dao. It was a Dao that the entirety of existence told had a name; the Dao of the Heavens.

His eyes flashed white with light as heavenly insight infused every facet of his consciousness. Jin’s gaze pierced through the veil of reality, focusing on the ebbs, flows, and weave of the water world’s particular corner of time.

Time was a fabric woven from the threads of potential realities, where each thread represented a different sequence of events or choices made by conscious beings. According to Jin’s discoveries, time was not linear or fixed but a dynamic and interactive tapestry that changed with every decision and thought. It was a concept some had called ‘multiversal’ and some less knowledgeable serfs called ‘quantum mechanics’. Jin knew it as the realm of forms.

It allowed one to directly experience the potentials inherent in the causes of things; and to witness many potential close futures.

Jin suspected that time was not a sequential flow at all. His introduction to the Dao had left him with a creeping suspicion as to the true nature of time. Times true nature seemed much more complex and multidimensional.

Peering into the many near-futures was a deeper form of accessing the realm of Forms, where true knowledge existed far beyond the sensory world. The experience, he felt, elevated the soul closer to the divine truths.

All moments in time could exist simultaneously, with the past, present, and future being mere illusions of human consciousness. From this viewpoint, time is a singular, vast expanse in which all events are interlinked and accessible.

But that was merely a suspicion.

Jin was merely capable of gazing at times tapestry with minimal understanding and not much else. He could not navigate it as one did in a stream. Not yet. So he gazed and peered at the potentialities of the future.

Jin was lost in a trance, lost amidst time's canvas, a drop of paint swayed by the paintbrush of the heavens- he had no control over what he saw and where he went, only where he was when his Dao-trance began. Jin's trance deepened, his features smoothing into a mask of deeper peace. He peered at possible near-futures with the casual interest of observing how quickly he could erase them, how effortlessly he could rewrite the narrative of a civilization. And how far the power of his blood could extend.

A droplet collided with Jin's cloak, scattering into a mist that caught the light, reflecting a spectrum of choices yet made. Jin mused on the duality of knowing the future. This foresight, a heavy cloak he bore, weighed on him with the burden of freedom and the sharp sting of choice.

Each vision of what could come to pass—a flash of light in the ocean's endless depths—taught him the profound responsibility of shaping destiny.

He realized that foreseeing outcomes did not just empower him; it demanded the creation of his values and reality.

As each possibility unfolded before his mind's eye, Jin confronted the absurdity of existence. The vast, uncaring universe stretched out beneath him, indifferent to human desires for order and understanding. Yet, in this confrontation, he found a strange solace. The act of peering into what lay ahead became his will to power, a defiant claim over his destiny amidst the chaos of an unknowable future.

knowledge of future events challenged the absurdity of existence, yet it also reaffirmed the need to create meaning in a meaningless world through actions and choices. It exemplified the burden of freedom and the anxiety of choice, as seeing the future forced one to confront the responsibility of shaping it, embodying existential freedom, and encouraging will to power, where foreseeing future outcomes would empower an individual to shape destiny. The experience embodied the creation of ones values and reality. The act was a confrontation with the absurd, where the knowledge of future events juxtaposed the meaninglessness of the universe with the human desire for order and understanding.

Peering into the future was akin to seeing the shadows on the wall of a cave—a limited perception of true forms. True knowledge came from understanding the eternal forms, not fleeting future events, but Jin wasn’t there yet. This Dao was new to him.

His eyes shone bright, a gateway to all reality. His gaze alone set the stage for transformation.

***

Jin's fingers hovered over the water's surface, a droplet of his blood mingling with the ocean, sending ripples across the stillness.

Jin had a secret. He had several, same as any other imperial, but only one secret mattered to him. He judged secrets by their consequences and the consequence of this secret’s discovery would spell the end of his cultivation and his life.

Jin was a demonic cultivator of the most bloody kind.

Blood was his path, woven into the very fabric of his being—his past, present, and future intertwined. From the moment his feet had ventured onto the ascendant trail, blood had seeped into the roots of his cultivation, becoming as essential to his ascension as the air he breathed. Moreso, in fact.

It was the basis of his cultivation.

Jin commanded the sea's endless creatures with a thought, seizing the blood of all within his range and influencing large swathes of life within the endless ocean. The marine beasts were titans of unimaginable scale, their circulatory systems now moving under his sway to become unwilling agents of chaos. Schools of Kraken accelerated erratically to collide with structures deep beneath the ocean's surface, their massive bodies now instruments of landscape-altering destructive forces.

Jin opened his eyes in disappointment and removed himself from time’s gaze once more. A seagull's shadow briefly intersected with Jin's, the bird quickly altering its course as if encountering a wall.

“Death by Fish? How droll,” he muttered as he hung suspended in the air by subconscious movements of Qi. Jin tutted and considered the water world below with a critic's eye. That particular future has been unimaginative and taught him nothing of the extent of his capabilities. He surveyed the expanse and considered the actions he’d witnessed with a teenager's impatience... He found it dreadfully monotonous.

There had to be a more artistic way to end them all.

Jin had always skirted the edge of the forbidden, unknowingly. But he had never been able to truly experiment with what it could do for he was always wary of discovery. His only opportunity for experimentation was whenever he visited serf-worlds. So what if his actions were recorded? He could always erase the records before evaluation.

Demonic cultivators hidden within orthodox sects were almost always rooted out, eventually. Jin had always moved with caution, knowing the stakes. Discovery meant a swift and brutal end, often preceded by torturous interrogation. Yet, Jin was alone, with no masters or secretive elders to guide him—only the ancient manuals he stumbled upon in childhood. Everything he knew came from self-teaching, experimentation, and ingenuity, leading him to venture deep into the realm of blood arts. His exploration knew no bounds, from exploring its power to bind and destroy, to curse and protect, to unveil mysteries and transcend all other paths, seeking not just to understand but to master powers that could read for heights untold, beyond even the limits of the vast heavens.

Blood was the basis of life, providing nourishment and warmth to the body, and was central to the concept of life force in living beings. It was the key to transformations of all kinds.

Jin closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath as the cool air brushed against his skin. he drew on the essence of life that pulsed within his veins, feeling the control it granted him over life itself, a dominion as vast as the ocean beneath. Then closed his eyes once more and opened them with the light of his Dao, gazing into the future.

***

The underwater cities were marvels of construction and engineering, they stood proud and defiant and were designed to withstand the unimaginable pressures of the world's deepest trenches. Jin's influence reached into their very foundations.

City after city collapsed and the world became a bloody tomb encased in blood.

“No.” Jin opened his eyes and ceased to gaze at times ebbing weave. More than once during that particular erasure of the world, the pressure and debris-filled currents had cracked his shell to douse him in bloody water.

That was unacceptable.

This was supposed to be his path to reclamation, to tear down the facades of order and morality that bound all worlds using the very essence that connected him to the ancient, chaotic origins of the universe. His path to transform and unify all.

His destruction of this world had to be perfect.

His gaze penetrated the depths but wasn't met with resistance. There was no clash, no battle—only the calm before the inevitable. The water teemed with life, it was his playground and his castle of sand, awaiting the inevitable swipe of his boot.

And now that he had finally joined a sect and gained further guidance to apply to his demonic arts, Jin had a pretty big boot.

So how should he do this?

Jin contemplated not with malice but with detached curiosity as he searched through the endless threads of time. How brilliantly could he flay this world? With a mere thought, he could undoubtedly unravel the fabric of this world, yet he sought a different path—a demonstration of power, brilliance, and transformation.

His power, after all, lay not just in destruction but in the artistry of control; in the dominion of blood. He wanted to explore the furthest edges of his it’s reach.

Drawing a dagger, he let a single drop of blood fall to the ground, watching as it soaked into reality, then he watched it as it fell, and gazed further than his Qi-filled eyes would allow. His gaze pierced through the drop of blood even as it landed in the ocean to merge with its waves. He gazed at the drop of blood's future.

***

The first city fell in hours.  Mer-warriors rushed to defend their home, their spears piercing the endless flows under the water's surface. Jin smiled. The destruction had begun.

A mer warrior charged, trident poised. Jin countered, his hand gripping the weapon, twisting it free and striking its owner down. Some tried to submit and join him, but Jin only cared for transformation. He twisted their blood and tore through their skin, turning them into great weapons of cursed coagulation. He sent these weapons crashing through the city with mere waves of his hands.

The second city took a little… longer, much to Jin’s shame. An entire day to destroy a single city. His first act had been subtle; a single merperson guard found his life force ebbing away as Jin merely glanced his way. The guard's blood betraying him to answer Jin's call. A scout’s light illuminated his form within the depths. Jin's hand moved in response, casting a dark wave towards the approaching merperson. The scout was thrown back,  his blood twisting as he was crushed to a ball, life extinguished in an instant. He moved through the water, a spectre of death. Every wave of his hand ended a life through the twisting of blood, and his glances swept through the blood of  legions.

Until the Mer armies amassed. Their numbers were vast. They fought hard, for a while, and their weapons were formidable until Jin’s gaze connected with their blood. His laughter was silent and travelling no further than his protective shell as he pulled the blood from all among the frontline, unleashing whirlwinds of dark blood to decimate their ranks with each pass. Before the final stronghold, Jin paused. With a gesture, the walls shattered, defenders falling amidst their ruins.

As silence fell over the last city, Jin surveyed his work.

“3 out of 10”, he muttered in disappointment.

***

In the present, as his eyes scanned time’s tapestry searching potential futures, Jin's fingers hovered over the water's surface, a droplet of his blood mingling with the ocean, sending ripples across the stillness. He watched the phenomena through the Dao, the red merging into blue to mix with the denizens of the sea. His drop of blood became something much closer to water, its life becoming death and then turning to life again.

He needed to unlock his path's true capabilities. He wouldn’t get another chance like this for years. He sought answers and explored the possibilities until one near-future caught his eye. His mind screeched to a halt and he jerked out of his Dao-trance with a smile.

“That’s it. That’s how they’ll all die.” He spoke a whisper of satisfaction, his eyes reflecting the sun's soft light through the clouds as he focused on the crashing waves below.

Jin considered the future he had witnessed with growing contentment. Soon, this place would end due to the mischief of a youth with too much power at his fingertips. Billions would die to the whims of a god-child wielding power with the nonchalance of youth.

Some might call it unfair, or ‘evil’, but that didn’t bother Jin. Not really. After all, he really hated water worlds.

He plunged towards the ocean's depths.

It was time to complete his conquering test.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 44: Weighted Rewards

Authors note: This ones pretty chunky too, at 5.3k words, (most chapters are usually 1.5-2k!!) 

Enjoy.

Chapter 44: Weighted Rewards

Silence reigned in the chamber as the oppressive atmosphere began to dissipate, replaced by a tentative sense of peace.

Alex stood amidst the devastation that had only moments before been an opulent display of hidden sovereignty.

His eyes scanned the remnants around him: the shattered stone beneath his feet, the walls scarred from spells cast and received, and the stillness that now hung where chaos had reigned. Dust motes hung lazily in the weak light filtering through cracks above, finding new places to peacefully settle after the tumult each mote had experienced. Alex exhaled slowly and felt an ache in his lungs, a remnant of victory and exhaustion that weighed down his limbs.

Stood beside him was the girl who had become his unlikely ally, her eyes scanning the many paths that led to the cavernous space, searching for signs of further danger. But there was none, for now; the queen's demise had sent a clear shockwave throughout the hive, and what remained of her swarm had now reeled in confusion. But it wouldn’t last long.

The silence that followed was profound, neither quite finding the words to express their desires or plans, yet both bathing in the peace they had struggled for.

Alex turned to the girl, finally asking, "What's your name?"

“Um-“ She looked surprised, then a small, genuine smile crossed her face. "I like…Mira," she replied, the word rolling out of her mouth uncomfortably as she spoke it for the first time.

“Mira,” she confirmed with confidence.

"Mira," Alex repeated, nodding. “Good choice-” He paused as a vivid sight caught his eye and pulled his gaze.

John's prone form lay at the edge of the chamber, split in two—a torso cut at the waist and legs. His deathly still form was surrounded by a congregation of black and red, in what was almost a lake of life fluids; how much of it was his, Alex could only wonder. It pained Alex to look but he ran to check on John’s condition despite himself, and the girl followed. He moved with swift precision, a few steps bringing him near, the girl landing softly behind him to send soft ripples through the ground and air. Both sucked in a breath as they reached the fallen guard.

John’s head raised feebly from the ground to greet them, pale as day. Blood flowed into his wound as quickly as it left him to leave him stuck in a strange class-induced limbo- if he stopped using his skill, he would die. Alex presumed it was a passive of some sort, one that worked alongside his strengthening skill to have been working for so long, that was the only thing that could explain the mana cost for such a feat. John’s head fell to the ground, his neck devoid of strength as his hands slowed and weakened further. "The Queen... you have to kill her," he murmured.

His words slurred as he spoke, a clear sign that he had accepted his fate and that it had embraced him in turn. He couldn’t keep this up forever. He would be dead soon.

Alex willed a potion to appear and immediately popped its cap and fed it to John, who consumed it in a daze. His wounds began to mend but too slowly and too weakly- the damage was too extensive and the blood loss even more so. The potion's regenerative qualities would at best seal the wound and potentially save his life. But much like it had healed the wound but failed to completely regenerate his lost right eye, it would fail to completely regenerate John’s lost limbs. Alex supposed that was a better fate than death. This is a world of magic, there's no way they wouldn't be able to regenerate his legs, even on Earth they would have decent alternatives. It had to be better here.

“I can buy us some time,” Mira offered tentatively. She reached out, and a sharp dagger erupted from her palm, its point stabbing slowly into the edge of John’s rapidly sealing wounds, feeling at the fluid flowing into him. John's blood immediately slowed to a crawl, though it didn't cease its life-sustaining movements. John’s life had been saved, for now. To Alex it felt as though John had been placed in stasis. All of his movements had slowed to a frozen crawl, and yet he was still in a conscious daze- his breathing was drawn and long, but not deep. His eyes moved slowly as if trailing a cloud, and his body moved as though it was submerged in liquid. Even the most minute of his hairs moved slowly.

“My venom is a little… different.” Mira offered sheepishly.

***

When she had awoken, newly born to this world, the girl had cared for nothing. She hadn't even had a name, then. She had been incapable of thought and moved only through a combination of instinct and command, both of which told her to consume whatever she encountered.

Then she had found a human and partook of his soul, back when she still had a newborn’s ability to sense such things. It had been the strongest soul present, a soul that at the time had dwarfed all present by leagues. She had promptly confiscated small sections of its parts to add to her own incomplete facsimile until she had taken enough of it to become whole and real. It had triggered an evolution, several of them.

The first evolution gave her thought and consciousness, and the world became wondrous and full of mystery.

Why was it that when she munched on a soul so big, suddenly everyone wanted to be her friend? Was that how popularity worked? Why did the wrapped soul-snack not fight back? Was it just really lazy? And why did the cave floor feel like it was judging her when she dragged her snack away? Did it have a problem with her choice? How dare it! … Why did her stabbing not stop the floor's judgment? And her siblings… Did they think they could take her snack? Didn’t they see the best snack was secured and claimed under her legs? Surely they could find their own. they acted as though there was a 'share everything' rule she missed at birth. She did not like that rule. Hah, her siblings flopped so dramatically when they played, that was fun and protected her snack. She felt stronger. some stopped moving after a lot of pouncing. Why was that? Was there a limit to playing? The loud ones had suddenly become silent as though they had run out of things to say. This was fun, should she play more?

“NO.”

Every facet of her being told her to only consume. She could not disobey- even the very thought caused her core to shudder… After she had completed her soul she would be allowed to play, she realised.

The second evolution gave her a system.

It was not the limited kind she had before. No longer did she experience the invisible system that beasts used, where choice was stripped completely. Her system opened to her freely, allowing her to see and allocate every stat as she wished. But the most important change her new system brought was Information. Context surged through her mind with each glance until she could not tell the difference between her own knowledge and that implanted by the system. She knew what things were called and had an inkling of their meaning; that was a rock, that moss was ‘glowing’, that rock was cracked- not alive- and her siblings weren’t resting… they were dead. It saddened her, slightly, but thoughts of her orders and purpose clouded her judgment and guided her steps. She had to protect her prize and continue to consume. It was her purpose.

The third evolution gave her immense strength, speed, and durability.

It caused the energy of the world to surge throughout her being and alter her further. She saw her new capabilities and the wider way she viewed the world as tools and weapons, using her sharp reasoning to monopolize the bountiful soul she had found. The soul of her snack was so much better than the others in the cave. It shone, bright and swirling. It was multifaceted and brilliant, soothingly shallow and yet as vast as a nebula- Wait, what was a nebula? she wondered. Something very big, the system's context seeped into her adolescent mind in response, indistinguishable from her own thoughts. Yes, a breathtaking and incomprehensible nebula… that's what the soul of her snack felt like.

It was sort of beautiful.

But she had to consume it, as that was her purpose. So she continued to consume the soul, a laborious task of co-opting its parts and slaying any that drew closer to her prize through cunning, deception and strength.

The fourth evolution gave her legs, hands, and human features.

And she used them to eviscerate all within the cave- every one of her siblings that sought to claim her prize.

The fifth evolution gave her freedom.

And with freedom both the weight of her actions and the nature of her hive came crashing down on her shoulders. She had slaughtered her kin against her will and sat in the damp cave with darkness as her only companion. She was alone, with no one to share her existence with- she had been forced to destroy them all.

“CONSUME.”

A voice shook the core of her mind and the centre of her being, though none else was present. It was a voice seeped in absolute authority and control. It sought to twist her.

“CONSUME.” It repeated.

“N-no.” She said, to the lonely and empty vacuum of the cave. She would no longer consume the living. Why should she? It left nothing but emptiness in its wake. Now that she could choose, she chose to be tired of destruction.

She had to leave this place.

***

The girl, Mira, liked the name she had chosen for herself.

Since her birth in that dark cave, there were only three things in this world that Mira had grown to truly care for. The first was finding a way to share the freedom she experienced with each breath with the rest of her kin. The second was the survival and safety of her species, which came to her after discovering they were all hunted and at war. But most recently, the third thing she had grown to care for had become the human named Alex.

He stood with her in the aftermath of the battle, both of them bathed in exhaustion and injury. She sensed him mirroring her actions on a chemical level, their breathing almost in sync and their subconscious movements near identical. She was just like him, and the two mirrored each other’s emotions and thoughts unawares quite often.

He was her ‘Source’.

It was a strange thing, to have someone share a part of your soul. She knew that she was made of the same things as him - flesh, blood, bones, and a little more. But she wasn't alive in the same way he was. Not by a long shot. He was complex, intricate. She saw him as poetry.

They shared a glance and she held his gaze, expressions mirrored. Each saw Concern, apprehension, wariness, determination, and a little bit of courage reflected in the other's gaze. Emotion transferred between them without words or thought. They were two of a kind, separated only by species and gender.

They would continue to fight, together. She knew this deeply.

But the knowledge was marred by his final actions. He hadn’t needed to kill the queen. She had been defenceless and barren. Defeated. So why had he done that? Mira would never have done something so cruel. The queen claimed that he was inherently evil due to his human nature and that to align with him was to doom her species, but the queen hadn’t the same insight into Alex as Mira did. The fallen monarch had not been right about him, or humans for that matter. There had to be a reason he ended her that didn't border on cruelty or evil, Mira was sure of it. Alex was kind, thoughtful, resourceful and strong, she knew this.

There had to be a good reason why he did that, she just had to ask.

***

Alex observed Mira's venom at work.

There's obviously magic at play, Alex thought, watching the dust and air around John's skin moving slower than the air more than a millimetre away from it. I'm guessing it's because judging by the queen's words she was born after the system’s arrival. It augmented her natural capabilities with skills.

“You said your venom is different. How is it different? Tell me. ” Alex’s interest was piqued, what he was seeing was clearly much more than just natural venom.

Before either could respond, notifications filled each’s vision, the blue light of reward shining a soothing light only they could see.

[Quest: ‘Sapient Saviour’ Completed! - You have been graded as the highest contributor!]

Alex felt the silence engulf them while Mira seemed to puzzle over the messages floating before both of their eyes, their heavy breaths the only sound to break the stillness. He saw her blinking at the floating messages only they could see, her brow furrowing as she scanned the text with mounting confusion. It stated his position as the highest contributor to their victory which made sense, of course he was the highest, he had delivered the final blow, suggesting someone else had contributed more.

"I'm second? What?… how?" she murmured to herself, the question hanging in the air.

What's her deal? Alex wondered. I dealt the killing blow and the most damage in general, besides John’s spike attacks and the g- Mira’- he reminded himself. I definitely dealt more damage than Mira. Why does she look so unhappy with the result?

Mira noticed his bewilderment and moved closer. Her approach was hesitant, each step careful as she navigated through the debris. “Is something wrong? You look like you were expecting first place.” Alex asked curiosly. She looked up at him guiltily and wore a grin that seemed to wrestle with fatigue, a smile that didn't quite know if it belonged on her face given the surrounding devastation. “I kind of did. I thought I had made the biggest difference, but I guess I was wrong.” Alex looked on in confusion at her statement. That made no sense whatsoever.

Sensing his growing confusion, Mira responded. “Like I said… my venom acts differently from everyone else's," she said.

Her voice was filled with uncertainty, pride, and guilt. “I didn't notice until we fought the green one and when I used the technique you taught me, the Tsuki.”

“Yeah, I noticed. You used a lot more than that, though.” Alex commented with a subtle nod. At first, she'd been clumsily swinging her sword as one would a bat, then after some time she began to hack with any blade she held in fits of wild destruction, always displaying amateur attempts at copying his form. But during the last few fights, he'd seen her perform several of his techniques almost perfectly despite the fact that he had only taught her just one. It was as though she was some sort of martial genius able to gain a journeyman's proficiency in a single day.“I know I'm a great teacher but how'd you get so good?” he asked with intrigue lacing his words.

“When we fought I watched your moves and techniques… a lot,” she spoke softly, her voice tinged with guilt. "I wanted to understand it.”

The queen had alluded to the possibility of Alex being her ‘source’. If that was true, it could mean she had gained some of his martial prowess. It could explain her growth. He wondered how much she had gained.

“And the venom?” Alex ventured, turning from surveying the chamber's passages to meet her gaze.

"Our venom never really affects others of the swarm but mine does, I think.” Her eyes didn't meet his as she muttered her next words. “It must've not have weakened the queen as much as I'd hoped. And you did everything… I guess I was being greedy… Sorry?"

Alex felt her breath quicken and a shift in the chemicals that surrounded her form, but he didn't need a sixth sense to see that she felt guilty. That queen- the ‘Death of Men’… she could probably move faster than I could wield my Dao. Her level was 56, so that's 560+50 stats or more in split between strength and dexterity with a common class. So at the very least she had over 300 strength and 300 dexterity. That's 100 more than mine, not to mention the predation skill, with all the cores she ate it would have been higher… and then her Aura attacks made everything worse. I wouldn't be surprised if she had 400 stats on me without my ‘duel of corruption’ debuff doing its job. Some of those blows were practically unblockable without my techniques, and even with them. Heck, even if Mira’s venom didn't do much to help, I'm sure slowing the queen down even a little could've made a difference somehow.

“Don't worry about it, Mira.” he offered with a subtle shake of his head. “I don't think we could've done it without you, anyway. but that's how things should be. People fill each other's gaps, make each other better. We're a team, you don't need to apologize for that.”

Jeez, ‘we’re a team?’ A bit much, Alex. He chided himself for getting carried away while speaking of their struggle, but he believed every word he'd uttered.

A pregnant pause.

At his words, Mira seemed fine on the exterior, normal even, as if she'd barely even registered what he'd said. But Alex sensed her pulse quicken and blood rush to her cheeks and fingers. Her heart rate increased subtly with each moment their eyes remained locked. Suddenly he regretted being able to intimately sense the workings of others. He wished he could turn off Bestial senses. It sort of felt like spying.

“So,” She said, standing before him with her gaze meeting his, equally contemplative. "We survived," she stated, the simplicity of her words undercut with a tension that mirrored Alex's relief and fatigue almost perfectly.

Alex nodded, his eyes leaving hers to drift over the destruction. She did the same. "At a cost," he replied, his voice low, as if speaking louder might shatter the fragile peace they had earned.

[Reward: E- grade equipment - Shell of the Guardian, Vessel of Madness, Fleetfur Boots, Spatial Satchel, have been placed in your inventory!]

[Reward: E- grade weaponry - Weightless, has been placed in your inventory!]

Alex sensed items appearing out of thin air before Mira in a flash. Blades, various armour and trinkets, and a circlet that adopted the colours of anything it touched fell to the ground at her feet. He turned to look and noted that strangely, all of her rewards were strangely gold, silver, bronze, or several of the three minerals.

Mira blinked in confusion and moved closer to the space, focusing on the air before her where the items began to materialize. Her movements were cautious, almost reverent, as she approached the pile of rewards materializing to fall at her feet. She reached out, her hand hovering over a long blade amidst the pile, a sword of constantly shifting bronze, gold, and silver that swirled within the blade like liquid mercury. Alex could see her curiosity piquing due to the strange energy it emitted.

Alex knelt and accessed his Inventory, causing his mind to connect to his personal trove through unseen spatial gateways. The floor of his small inventory space was filled with swords and a single solitary health potion. He noted other items appearing there too and watched as his quest rewards entered his dimensional space, one after the other.

He summoned each into the world as they appeared.

A sword, boots, a satchel, a strange box, and leather armour lay before him, each appearing to hold a faint glow of mana upon close inspection.

An unsheathed sword with a blade as white as starlight appeared first, its handle wrapped in dark brown leather. He immediately reached out for the weapon the system had named ‘Weightless’, his fingers brushing against the cold metal. "Not bad," he murmured, more to himself than to Mira.

His touch seemed to awaken the blade, its white surface ceasing to greedily drink the world's mana. It was as light as a feather and felt familiar and yet distinctly foreign in his grasp. He swung experimentally and felt the blade grow imperceptibly heavier with each subtle movement. The air swirled audibly in the wake of his slash and a gust of wind followed, disturbed by the blade that had momentarily become much heavier than should be possible.

It slipped from his grasp and landed on the stone floor with a crack, sinking until it reached the guard and hilt. Alex knelt and pulled at the sword's hilt and jerked back in surprise as it shot up effortlessly, once again weighing less than a feather. That’ll take some getting used to, he rubbed his chin in thought. But I can just store it in my inventory mid-swing when it gets too heavy… or just get stronger.

Yep, stronger it is, he thought, storing the blade in his Inventory with a touch.

The satchel was grey and leathery, with an opening strap and string made of a stretchy material that reminded Alex of elastic. It appeared unremarkable and bland at first glance save for one feature; he could not sense the contents inside the satchel. It’s entrance constantly sucked in air. It wasn't a vacuum or a strong force of suction. It was a subtle thing that he sensed rather than saw; dust particles drifted into the pouches opening as if attracted and the air drifted in as though pulled. Yet the pouch didn't increase in size. In his crouched position, he experimentally picked up rubble and placed it in the satchel, only to watch the rubble fall into the satchel entrance and disappear completely. Then he selected a larger piece of rubble, one several times the size of the satchel and attempted to place it inside. The satchel’s opening expanded with elasticity to consume the larger chunk of debris. Interesting, Alex thought with a raised brow. Probably a dimensional space of some kind… but I already have one of those. Perhaps he could sell it when they returned?

Next, Alex picked up the Fleetfur Boots with a sense of curiosity. He turned them over in his hands, noting the deep matte black material that somehow felt both like leather and fur at the same time. They were lighter than he expected, too, even more so than the blade, almost as if they weighed nothing at all. It hinted at speed beyond ordinary limits. The boots' held a combination of buckles and straps and laces that were sturdy yet flexible and seemed designed to stay tied without effort.

A bit old school, but it will do, Alex thought while turning them over once more. Old school was putting it lightly, they were practically medieval but clearly far beyond mundane. Slipping his feet into them, he marvelled at how they conformed to his contours perfectly, buckled clasping of their own accord and its form tightening for a perfect fit as though altered by an invisible shoemaker.

The moment the final strap clasped shut, Alex felt himself wrapped in the gossamer sensation of buoyancy. He felt that with these boots he could move just as fast as she had.

[Name: Alex Ironwood

Level: 41

Race: Human - Rank F

Primary Class: ̷̷͎̠̠̖̳̮̿́̏̄͝͠Sys̵̞̈́͆̓̓te̸̪̟͇͕͂mic SwO̷̟̮̙͚̔rd So̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅve̶̷̵̴̲̳̱reign

Sub-class: Locked

Strength: 193 (133)

Dexterity: 236 (163)

Endurance: 113 (78)

Intelligence: 290 (200)

Wisdom: 41 (28)

Feats: First Encounter, Pioneer, Pinnacle IV, Survivor, Warrior, Champion

Active skills: Phoenix Leap, Mana Burn, Mana Blade, Boundless Dodge, Duȅ̷̳̮̄͝͠l of C̷͎̠̠̖̿́orruption, Sovereign Executioner,

Passive skills: Inner Focus, Outer Focus, A̷̶̵̴̲̳̱l̸̢͉̗̣̑͐͛à̸̶̵̴̶̷̶̺̥̮̯͇̲̳̱̼̲͒̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̸̴̶̷̵̢̳̮̲̳̱͉̗̣̲̳̱̏̄̑͐͛͝͠Ω̴̵̶̷̲̳̱ ̶̶̯͇̼̲̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̴̶̷̵̳̮̲̳̱̲̳̱̏̄͝͠g̵̶̷̴̲̳̱e̸̪̟͇͕͂e̶̷̵̴̲̳̱E̵̴̶̷̶̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̢̲̳̱̼̲̲̳̱̟̮̙͚͉̗̣̺̥̮͋͐͋͂̔̑͐͛̀͒ͅͅ ̶̷̶̴̵̶̷̯͇̲̳̱̈́̈͛ ̷̸̴̶̷̵̳̮̪̟͇͕̲̳̱̏̄͂͝͠M̷̶̵̴̲̳̱m̸̵̴̶̷̸̷̸̴̶̷̵̢͉̗̣̲̳̱̪̟͇͕̟̮̙͚̺̥̮̲̳̱̑͐͛͂̔̀͒ͅ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̸̶̢̳̮͉̗̣̼̲̏̄̑͐͛͋͐͋͂͝͠ͅO̷̟̮̙͚̔o̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅᾯ̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̸̢̲̳̱̲̳̱̟̮̙͚̪̟͇͕͉̗̣̺̥̮̑͐͛̀͒ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̶͎̠̠̖̼̲̿́͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠ ̷̶̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̴̶̷̵̲̳̱̲̳̱̲̳̱, Inventory, Bestial Senses,

Dao: True Immortality - 0.06% Progress

Unassigned stat points: 20]

Almost halfway to my next milestone skill at level 100. That’s something to look forward to, he thought in scrutiny with his eyes scanning for changes.

And my Dao increased by 0.03%. That's ridiculously low, but then again reaching 100% feels like an impossible task and would probably give godly power to do anything I wanted… I wonder how high Phoenix’s Dao had progressed, Alex thought as he adjusted his gear, watching Mira as she continued to sift through her rewards. She wore bangles and earrings, a necklace and form-fitting leather armour embroidered with good lining and intricate runes that hummed with energy. Her fingers passed over several swords before her.

His attention returned to his status sheet, the light of its panel reflecting off the environment in ways that only his mind's eye could see. He had 20 free stats.

He placed ten in dexterity and another ten in endurance, thinking that he would never want to find himself in another situation where he would be outmatched in speed by a being who was capable of injuring him.

[Strength: 207 (143)

Dexterity: 236 (163)

Endurance: 128 (88)

Intelligence: 290 (200)

Wisdom: 41 (28)

Unassigned stat points: 0]

But wisdom kinda low, very low in fact, he thought, his eyes roaming through the floating panel. But it hasn't affected my battles so far… seems like a case of ‘If it aint broke don't fix it’? feeling that his other four stats were more important, he was tempted to completely ignore the idea of placing free stats into wisdom and supposedly ‘wasting’ them. But logic dictated that each stat should have equally impactful natures, so the wisdom stat had to be important in some way. Nah, tempting as it is to neglect it, I’ll have to be sure, he decided. Once he made it back to the town, he would have to find out exactly what the wisdom stat did before deciding its importance in any future allocations.

He moved on to the next item, one that had been hard to ignore.

The armour, 'Shell of the Guardian.’ The leather armour lay among the scattered stone and seemed to promise an exceptional defence. Its surface lay pristine and unblemished despite the settling dust that swirled in the wake of its fall. Alex could feel a layer of dust settling some space beyond its surface as if held back by an invisible force. The set of leather armour appeared to allow no elements to come closer than a few centimetres

“Whoa,” Alex leaned closer to inspect the armour and reached out, his hands gliding over the high-quality leather. The leather had been expertly tanned to a rich, deep brown, and looked as though it would feel supple under his touch. But he had no idea how it felt, as his hands met an invisible field of hard air around the armour. Pressing down, he noted it took some effort to push past the armour protective field to make contact with the leather beneath. It would naturally block weak blows and projectiles, but stronger blows might still be able to crash through its protective field to harm its wearer. Still, my own personal forcefield, without a mana cost. He held the armour up, its form suspended between his fingers by the smallest gap of air. Very cool, it’ll work even after I use Mana Drain or Duel of Corruption. Heh, maybe the system isn't so bad after all, he thought with relish. Any attack that connected with him would be decreased in its severity, to a degree. He noted the matte finish, which caught the light in a subtle way, highlighting the armour's sturdy construction. The pieces of the armour were articulated, he observed, bending and moving with a fluidity that promised a full range of motion. This design, he recognized, was meant to offer protection without hindering his movements. As he adjusted the fit, the armour moulded to his form and its segments working together to ensure his agility remained unhindered, though this time it moved through expert craftmanship rather than extranormal means.

Alex thought his rewards matched him well. Especially the sword and armour. They really suited him.

Mira was stood beside him, her own rewards forgotten. She peered over his shoulder with interest. “They suit you,” she said.

Alex wasn’t surprised by her interest. After all, his new equipment was pretty useful, although hers looked to be much more varied and bountiful. Her gaze lingered on his items, taking in their form and the subtle changes they wrought in Alex's appearance.

“They look useful," she commented again.

“They’re useful,” Alex responded to her earlier comment without thought in the same instant.

Huh… that was weird. He thought, before moving on to his next reward.

Alex looked down at his final reward, a small, intricately carved box that pulsed with the light of mana at the thin gaps between its lid and base. What the system had called a ‘Vessel of Madness’.

Mira leaned closer, her gaze fixed on the vessel. "That box is strange," she pointed, "there's something different about it. Can you feel it?" She picked up the small and intricately carved box and turned to face him. "What is it?" she questioned, her curiosity visible through her pursed features. “I'm not sure but the system called it a ‘Vessel of Madness’. it's emitting some pretty strong mana.” Alex responded as she scooped up the item. When she opened the box, the light and strong presence of mana that constantly pulsed within completely ceased.

Inside lay a single, dark gemstone, its facets cutting the light into sharp angles.

Hmm… that name doesn't seem like something to treat lightly. He immediately snatched the box from her grasp and shut its lid, storing it in his inventory as its light and mana surged. “Hey! I wasn’t done looking!” Mira protested, but Alex shook his head in disagreement. “Best to get this one appraised and find out what it does, it feels too dangerous.” He responded with a serious tone. It didn’t actually feel dangerous, but juggling a magic crystal called the ‘vessel of madness’ did not seem like the most intelligent of moves. As far as Alex was concerned, that was how you ended up getting body snatched, transported to the gullet of an evil monster, or something equally inconvenient like being transformed into a used car salesman.

With his final reward stored, Alex surveyed the chamber with a creeping feeling of disappointment he couldn't control. It came at him two-fold; he felt a surging disappointment in the fact that none of their items could completely restore John's health and guarantee his life, while secondly, he felt another surge of disappointment at the fact that he had lost the opportunity to monopolize the rewards. Part of him had been curious to know what would happen if he solo’d a dynamic quest intended for countless people. Still, at least he had gained the opportunity to gain a critical insight, one that would allow him to not just further his Dao but to glimpse at the lives of their Imperial overlords.

With a sigh, he prepared to make his next move, his eyes scanning the breadth of the chamber one final time.

Countless scars crisscrossed the walls—some deep, others shallow. Light shone faintly from a large, deep crack in the ground. It was a vast fissure that dissected the space, a cavernous line that split the chamber in two. At the sight, the memory of the queen's first strike returned unbidden. The effect of her first strike that ran so deep countless chambers, halls, and cavernous caves beneath could be seen, and if Alex had an eagle's sight he would have seen countless evolved variants staring back into the blows aftermath. But all he saw were dark figures shifting in the distant deep, a sea of ant-like movements too far away to be of any immediate concern.

Swords, trinkets, and broken armour scattered along the floor painted a chaotic path of opportunity- a result of his opening gambit. Small mounds of similar items lay by the vacant throne as remnants of the queen’s unguarded hoard, waiting for an opportunist’s touch… Some of those could be handy, Alex thought as he eyed the nearest items. He made a mental note to sift through them before they recovered John and made to leave the underground space.

Then a notification pulled all the attention he could spare.

[Reward: ‘Insight of the Imperial’ granted!]

The world's system-infused mana surged around Alex, it wove dense shapes with patterns as intricate as the universe's map, revealing constellations and cosmic paths beyond human grasp as it formed a dense sphere encasing him, infused with microscopic intricate patterns—complex beyond comprehension. A similar sphere enveloped the girl, the forces within it gently nudging them apart. Moments later, everything around them, every colour, sound, and sensation, faded into a muted abyss. Alex felt his consciousness lift, untethered from the physical realm, as if caught in a gentle stream, and whisked away to an unknown destination traversing the spaces between distance and time.

Reality slowed and a sea of inky blackness engulfed the entirety of his vision.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 43: The Death of Men

“Your tricks will no longer save you, human.”

The Queen eyed the defiant human male with disdain. He had survived her opening salvo, somehow.

Using the old ways, she breathed deep, gathering the world's mana into her blade and sensing its contours as she altered it fundamentally, turning its structure into that of aura as she prepared for another swing.

She was using a source of free and untainted mana, granted to her by the space that the human had freed with his system-ending skill. It clung to them, and inside of them, she suspected. She had no idea whether her access to the old magics was finite, but she would use it until she could avenge her dying hive.

She fought the human that would befriend one of her children, the human that dared to disarm her progeny. And she judged him.

She had seen better. Her blade slashed down, targeting his shoulder. He sidestepped—metal cleaved air, just missing flesh.

She had seen faster. She spun, her second attack a swift thrust aimed low to cut his legs from under him. He jumped back, the tip brushing the fabric of his garments.

The queen struck him with gold once, and with bronze twice. She struck with impatience and the human flinched not at all.

He struck back, and his retaliation was mired in pride—a counterattack that seamlessly flowed from the previous defence. She swung with both blades—

He countered, a rock against the tide, turning her force against her. He ducked, swift as a storm and his return was lightning striking back. His riposte was a thunderbolt, swift and inevitable, his blade striking with the force of existence itself.

It was-

Exquisite.

The Hidden Queen was no longer mocking, then, as Alex stumbled from her golden blow. He stumbled not from lack of skill, but lack of magic. The human had stripped himself of his system-granted skills- and it was apparent that that was the only magic he knew.

Why would he do something so foolish? A look of concern crossed over the Monarch's face. The man had nothing but brute strength and martial form and still fought against her aura blade as none had before.

What if such a person was granted aura of thier own? A powerful aura and not the limited kind she currently wielded?

What if one of her children had wielded such skill? How great could such a person have become? Greater than even her? Greater than her sisters?

She touched the place above her chest, in the center, where her mana heart would be—as if the new body she possessed were in pain—

‘If only he had been one of us,’ she thought.

If only such mastery could be preserved without loss. Forget the final evolution, what of the first? If the first evolution was perfected, what heights could they have achieved? Would they have been able to enforce peace through force alone?

Through perfection?

Her blade shone brighter than any present in her chamber, and this time she didn't swing.

She stabbed.

Alex parried the blow perfectly.

There was craft to his blows- a perfection. The kind of forethought and efficiency in form and purpose that spoke to lifetimes of evolution. He was not wielding an art but a path, a martial way. The drifter girl didn’t impress her in the same way. But she was young. She could learn, maybe.

“Where were you trained?” She asked between a swing, he stepped into her swing causing its aftereffect to sweep behind him and decimate the empty space. “There is artistry in your form. strange techniques that exceed my own.”

Blades clashed and they separated. A pause, as one eyed the other.

His skill was… immense. She craved it for her own kind. She craved a way to capture his martial path- beyond his death. To kill him and pass his prowess completely to her young. To do so now would only create a fragmented revenant, limited in skill but complete in potential- and potential was a thing often unrealized. A loss. “But you have no magics, save for that one powerful trick. Like a novice. Did you have nothing before the system?” She asked, sword lowering.

“I had… something,” Alex said, sword raised.

All she did was frown.

—Then she closed her eyes.

“There is no final evolution,” she muttered to herself and no one. “There is only the first evolution- our chance to truly capture essence.”

“Had I realized this truth earlier? I might have let you leave here alive and killed you later.”

She raised her blade, energy coursing along its edge, and thrust forward,

“It’s too late now.”

***

Alex didn’t believe her.

He didn't understand her words and didn't care to. He pressed through the pounding in his skull to channel the Dao into his blade.

He struck and reality shifted in a thin line before its path- a painter's stroke of destruction that would bisect the Queen- and anything it came in contact with.

She leapt to the side and up, a horizontal white streak that Alex’s eyes easily followed, then she swung her blade and the air exploded, changing her trajectory with a wave of her sword, aiming to land in front of him.

Alex charged. He couldn't afford to waste time, his skill would run out soon and despite his inner and outer sense skills still working somewhat even with the systems removal, he couldn’t tell when.

The queen bared her teeth as she fell from above. She unleashed a hail of falling strikes like stars.

“Hive-killer!” She said, the glee of battle filling her veins. “Swarm-Ender!” She yelled, the grief of loss tainting her movements. “Show me more that I have never seen before! Make your death worthy of the end of my hive!”

So Alex did. Her blow was heavy and brought him low, but his blue blade stole portions of her aura and was shrouded in his Dao. He moved with the cold certainty of winter, parrying her blade aside, his senses tuned to the subtle shifts of her muscles and mana. He ducked, a shadow slipping past daylight, and retaliated with the precision of a marksman.

She crouched and rocketed above his swing.

Her leap left a physical arc in the air, a trail of solid light and mana that burned. A bridge of deadly light. At first, it seemed a stationary after-image, until she swung and it shot forward, mirroring the path and structure of her technique perfectly. “Your magics are unrefined and young. But masters elevate magic.” Her landing cracked the stone. “You haven’t tried.”

Alex ducked and pivoted on his heel, his elbow tucked in a tight and powerful swing. she swung up to meet it with both blades and Alex realized something.

I shouldn't have let my skills guide my blade.

It’s my blade-

My blade guides my skills.

The two locked blades and Alex stared at the Queen. Her eyes wet and her teeth bared— in a smile, she smiled as she wept. He froze in surprise, distracted. She had almost killed him, then. Could have, maybe.

But she hadn't. She had paused imperceptibly to allow him to recover. She had noticed a weakness in his habits and begun targeting his legs, slowly erasing his habit of crouching he'd gained from overreliance on Phoenix leap, it left his head exposed. Why did he need to crouch when the skill launched him with magic?

Then she targeted his left side, forcing him to return to his fundamentals and abandon his reliance on his skills. She had been polishing his form during the battle, erasing his weakness to prolong the fight for as long as it could last. She’s mourning, he realised. She’s not thinking straight.

She was mourning what she had lost and not wanting the battle to end. For to face the end of the battle was to face what she had lost.

It was foolish, and Alex had never met someone like her, but he felt regret in every stroke of his exchange.

He reminded himself of the dead humans at her hands as he fought, of how much of a monster she was. He thought of people he had witnessed her consume as they entered the chamber. To play the role of monster given to you by your enemies was a choice. It's a choice, he told himself with a swing of his blade.

Its-

-A

-Choice.

But was it really?

Alex steeled his heart and struck, he could waver later, now was the time to fight.

He landed, and his sword rang. Rang and rang as he had never heard a blade ring before, like the chimes of an insect’s shell, so loudly that he feared it might shatter. The queen saluted his blades. He raised his sword-

And his Skill burnt out. The countdown ended. 5 minutes had passed.

The system returned.

The emptiness Alex felt ceased, the world burst, awash with colour and vibrancy once more, his senses increasing twofold.

The light in the Queen's blade vanished completely and she was once again shackled by the system. And empowered by it. Her aura was forcibly stripped from her and in its place, her stats surged.

The Queen stilled as the light of her blade faded to nothing, never to truly return.

Her form was rigid and frozen- not from surprise, but from grief, for she knew it was time to kill the strange human swordmaster and face her dying hive.

Alex stood frozen, too. Like a leaf on water he stood, delicately balanced and seemingly still, yet ready to drift with the current of her wrath's capricious blows.

He had grown painfully aware of the Queen's blistering speed and stood poised with his sword aimed directly at her neck, his wrist angled to pierce and swing. He understood that he couldn’t hope to match her speed- any attempt at tracking her movements would be futile. Instead, he positioned himself where he calculated the least effort was needed to respond, a minimalist stance where the tilt of his wrist and the direction of his blade were all that he could rely on. It was a posture born of necessity and not intent on matching speed but on creating a nexus point, a singular opportunity for defence turned into an offensive pivot.

And the Queen took a step, slow and deliberate. Alex tensed with senses strained and his sword pointed toward her. She disappeared.

She moved so fast she was a glittering blur- a streak of porcelain white aimed at Alex’s neck.

Alex exhaled sharply and held his sword tight, but his mind was elsewhere.

He knew he could die within the second and yet his focus remained elsewhere, on something that lay just beyond the battle. He extended his senses beyond the veil of existence, piercing at a sensation that seemed to lay just beyond the known.

And when he connected to it, for a moment the world ceased to exist.

Amid life and death, between his beginning and end, Alex found himself at a crossroad of existence, where every moment held the weight of infinity. As he faced the Queen's impending deathstroke, his understanding transcended the mere physicality of their confrontation. In this pivotal moment, he connected with the underlying currents of the world around him, recognizing the transient nature of all that exists.

And It was beyond him. It was too much all at once and threatened to consume him lest he look away. Alex recoiled from the impact of universal truths before it claimed him as its own.

But not before he took a piece; a grain of sand he could barely grasp.

The grain was as heavy as the entirety of existence. In possessing it, Alex saw the inevitability of destruction and the impermanence of their struggle. He held within him the fluidity that bound the essence of life. It told him that Destruction was necessary.

As was creation. Both parts were the essence of flux. There was a third state, too. A third state of flux unknown to him, a thing beyond his grasp that caused his head to burst with pain.

His strategy no longer stemmed from a place of resistance but from a deep alignment with the principle that all things must evolve or fade and that both states were aligned and natural. Clarity engulfed him and he sought to part from the Dao completely. To take his prize and wield it to enact the will of the Dao; to destroy and be destroyed- to change.

In embracing this state of flux, Alex did not merely move to respond to the Queen's attack; he moved with the understanding that his physical actions were mere ripples of the deeper shifts occurring within the canvas of existence. he moved with the fluidity of a stream carving its path through stone, not by force but by yielding to the natural contours of the world. He embraced his end and shifted imperceptibly into the path of his destruction.

And hers.

The queen drew her blades back in an exaggerated motion, behind her back—and the three blades collided. Alex was braced for the impact. But all he felt was a ringing in his sword that travelled the length of his arm and shook his teeth—then his blade wavered.

His blade became a thing of two states. It flowed between existence and obliteration. For a heartbeat, his blade ceased to exist entirely.

It slipped through his foe's blade as light would.

[Dao: ‘True Immortality’ - Progress 0.03 > 0.06%]

As the Queen's blade sought to end the duel, Alex moved with clarity born of desperation. In the heartbeat he saw her blade angled to carve through him-

And he stepped into her path.

He twisted, his sword returning to existence to trace a fatal arc through her guard. In that brief eternity, his blade and her swing met in a tragic embrace, cleaving her torso even as his own arm was severed. Together, they fell, a singular sound of finality marking the end of their clash.

His arm and her body fell to the ground in the same instant, two wet thuds that sounded like one.

She fell to the ground in pieces.

Alex fell to his knees, summoning a healing potion between his lips while reaching for his severed arm. It had been a perfect cut, so seamless that blood barely dripped, whereas his cut had ravaged the queen as it tore through her. I still have a long way to go, he realised. He pressed his lost arm to the stub and downed the potion, praying it would do something to heal his life-changing injury. The wound tingled and burned but he wasn’t sure, he could only wait and hope. Imperceptibly silent steps sounded behind him and he tensed- then sensed the soft footsteps owner. It was the girl. She had freed herself and walked over to join him, her stomach a mosaic of broken skin, cracked carapace and both bleeding and coagulated ichor.

She made it, he thought with relief, rising from the ground with some effort. They locked eyes but neither could bring themselves to smile. Both tore away from the other's gaze and stared at the dying monarch at their feet. Alex watched the Queen's fallen form for what she might do next as feeling returned to his lost arm. He felt a hint of remorse, for the Queen looked so regretful as she lay there- her will was completely broken.

Alex tightened his grip on his sword at the thought of ending her reign.

She was in a pitiful state, just an arm and a torso, he could even see the edge of her core. But she was still conscious, somehow. And she spoke

“Is he the one?” The Queen raised a weak finger to point at Alex while questioning the girl. The girl nodded and the Queen laughed, a sad and dejected sound. “If you had taken all of his power, you could have saved us.” She hacked again.

“I didn’t want it.” That was all the girl said in response.

Alex simply raised his sword. He would think on that later, but not now.

The queen eyed his blade without fear. “You’ve beaten us all and destroyed my swarm. And yet you still want to kill me, Because the system tells you it must be done.” She hacked more ichor and gave him a derisive and spiteful look. “Go on, then. Do it. It's in your nature. Show her what you are.”

A soft warmth brushed against his skin.

The girl had touched his arm in an attempt to dissuade him. Not with strength or even urgency, but gently. “Alex, she's beaten. It's done, let's go.”

Alex didn’t move.

He reminded himself of the countless people she had killed and eaten, and of all the lives she had taken in the century before he arrived in this world. Regardless of whether it was how some twisted God had designed her, she had still created paths of destruction. She may not have been completely guilty, but she wasn't innocent either.

John's still form in the distance was a clear testament to that.

She’s very much a monster. She has to die. It’s her Karma, He told himself. His entry into her hive and her broken form was merely the culmination of decades of slaughter. The result of her own actions. Alex told himself it was evening the scales, carrying out the will of karma- following the path of his Dao. But deep down, far deep within him, a small part of him felt as though he was ending her not just for her crimes, but for power.

He set his feet, grasped his blade’s hilt with both hands- one above the other- and swung.

As his blade descended, the Queen eyed them both and muttered her final words.

“What a waste.”

[You have defeated, Level 56 Arachne Queen]

[Level 38 > Level 41]

[Strength +12, Dexterity+12, intelligence+18, unassigned stats +12]

[Quest: ‘Sapient Saviour’ Completed - Calculating contribution…]

[Calculating rewards…]

Soul of Blades - Chapter 41 & 42: The God of Duels - Part 1&2

Authors note: A bit of a long one. (6k words) This and the next were all supposed to be one chapter, but it turned out quite lengthy. Enjoy

Chapter 41&42: The God of Duels

The remnants of the thorax-womb swelled and a long tear formed at the centre, a woman stepped out of it. The Queen.

But changed.

She looked…vaguely human. She was lean and tall, like an Olympic runner with a humanoid form. But well-muscled, the kind of form you would find on short-distance sprinters, those that cleared 100 meters in bursts of speed. But her two legs were long and inverted at the knees. She had long hair and a human face, oval-shaped with a nose and lips that if taken in isolation, one could confuse for the palest of women.

Alex’s brow creased. He spotted something odd about her arms at first glance – it looked like she had just had one on each side. But no, there were actually three, the extra two hugging the main one so tight they almost disappeared into it. These extra limbs, pressed against the main like intricate sleeves and left only the central hands free on each side. Her spare hands secured the main wrists, clasped tight light the cuff links, reinforcing strength and stability.

Parts of Her skin was grey, or at least the very thin lines Alex could see beneath her bright white plates of exoskeleton. Her plates of chitin were uniform and symmetrical, ergonomic and aerodynamic. The plates looked vaguely like the sleekest of armour and made no sound as she twisted. The plates still held porcelain qualities - they were sturdy and thick but immensely reflective. Every inch of her was covered in bright white and glossy plates of chitin, in pure contrast to the usual black carapace of her kind. If she were in battle, she would’ve stood out amongst her kin like a beacon in the dark.

Her many eyes opened, eight or ten—no, sixteen eyes. More than sixteen of them arrayed atop her head like a crown of stars.

Her finger touched her new form curiously and the three moved to strike, but cautiously. Because Alex was sure that at least one eye was still looking at them.

The Queen ignored their presence and spoke in resigned tones. She glanced at the remnant of her past form, her thorax, dying egg sack and its amalgam of living, dying, and dead eggs and grimaced at the sight. Some were devoid of life and consumed, others lay dead before her. Few remained undamaged. Dead eggs for a living mother. “I had only ever consumed the weakest and most broken of swarmlings before today. They had been the ones at fault, they were not true Arachnae. I would never have consumed assets or those of us who had proved themselves true members of our species.” Her voice quivered at every second word.

It was clear for all to see that her metamorphosis had come at great sacrifice. It looked as though she held some semblance of maternal love for the swarm, in her own twisted way. “They will punish me for this.” She said.

Alex was unsure what had happened, but he knew what he had to do. Whatever humanity she showed did not erase the monster he had faced moments ago and would not revive the lives of countless humans he had witnessed slaughtered by her hand and on her orders. he took the lead in their approach, his senses strained and wary of any sign of attack or enhancement from her evolution.

She ignored them still and spoke in soft tones “With the first Queen, you would not allow us to live. You would not even trade your dead for our children.” She spoke softly, yet her voice echoed through the chamber to all present. The queen cradled the cord erupting from her stomach as one would hold the most cherished of treasures- of children.

“you would not accept her peace.” She said. “You burned her swarm as repayment for her compassion and You forced us to hunt you. You forced us to fight.” she squeezed the cord tight.

“And now you have forced me to take action from which neither I nor my swarm will ever recover,” Her pale hands squeezed, and the cord snapped with a dry crack, like wood breaking. All present tensed at the sound mid-stride, bracing.

She took a step forward, and at the light from the bioluminescent Arachne that lined the walls dimm as they each tried their best to meld into the background, to be forgotten lest they become collateral. “my womb is broken,” she pointed, all of her eyes twinkling like stars- or are they glistening? Alex wondered as she continued. “Barrenhood is all that awaits me, I can no longer spawn more eggs, only consume them all for power as my sister did. But solitary power will not save us.”

“After those eggs are born, there will be no more new members of the hidden hive.”

Alex felt a cold tingle up his spine and judging by the way he sensed the hairs along the back of the girl behind him rise, she felt the same. Their steps turned into a racing charge.

The Queen paused to inspect her new form and its segmented, bright white sections. It rippled and flexed as she moved, like a second skin more than rigid exoskeleton. A poor reward for a heavy price. “We just wanted to live,” she muttered, her voice low, yet heard by all, “is it a crime to be born? We did not ask for this.” she stepped away from the remnants of her past form at the words. It was then that Alex reached her and struck.

Alex slid toward the queen on both feet. He crouched low mid-stride and performed a tsuki, a penetrating thrust aimed at the queen's neck with the intention of a swift end. The girl followed some distance behind and rocketed into the air, careening down toward the queen with the stolen bronze sword clasped in both hands. John stood back, gawking.

The queen stood in complete disregard for her opponents, distracted by her loss. And Alex sought to capitalize, to end it in one fell swoop.

The remade Queen reflexively tried to jump back and twist away, but Alex barrelled into her. Her left hand clasped onto his wrist and halted his blade from piercing her neck. He dropped the blade and caught it with his left.

Her hand clasped his wrist, his free hand clasped a blade and hers did too. A struggle ensued.

A swing, a duck, a parry, a strike, and a block. Evenly matched. They continued, tied together in combat.

“One hundred years in hiding and many more in battle, ruined.” She said, mid-swing. “The first consumption will always trigger an evolution, usually once the entirety of a being is consumed-” She swung her blade and Alex ducked “We usurp the essence of our first meal. Their qualities-“ Alex stabbed upward and the queen leaned back to evade, her grip on his wrist unshaken as the flat of his blade kissed her chin without injury. “— their soul is stored within us, diluted. and a portion of their traits are passed on to us, an echo if you will-” She tugged at his wrist to throw him off balance, but Alex steadied his footing and swung again. “It is our ‘Source’, that’s what we call it. The source of our being.” She flipped over him, still holding onto his wrist. She spoke in mid-air as if she was stood on ground “-It forms the core of our being and alongside our arachnid core and remains throughout all evolutions; whether it be keen reflexes and intuition, or lost memories.” Alex swung at where she would land and tugged back to yank her from the air. She twisted so his blade passed below and landed on her hands and feet. Just one hand touched the ground, though. The other still held Alex’s wrist in a death grip. “-In rare cases, fragments of martial mastery are transferred between an arachnae and its first consumption,“ she continued.

Alex pulled and swung. She rose and locked blades with him while still holding onto his wrist like a vice on iron as they struggled, their evenly matched strength at an impasse.

“Do you know from when and for whom the first half of my core was formed?” She asked between grunts and pulls. “She died in one of the Great Wars, the greatest of them, some say. Her swings were magic and none could beat her honourably, not knights, not masters of aura, not even kings.”

So she just wants to talk? Why? Alex wondered. He couldn’t allow this to continue. He pulled with all he had and she didn’t move, She pushed with all she had and he didn’t budge. Of course they didn’t. She had his strength and was using it to delay him. “-My source was among their best.” She grunted. “And we claimed her, used her to create what you’ve forced me to become once more.”

“She was called the ‘God of Duels’.”

John sucked in a breath at the name and went pale, muttering about a legend of the black wars who disappeared 200 years ago. Alex could barely hear him.

“And they called me the ‘Death of Men’.”

The queen spoke her forgotten name and swelled with pride despite the melancholy that bathed her tone. John paled even further, seeming to lose strength in his knees. “We’re doomed.” He said.

For a heartbeat they stood in stalemate, locked by blades and clasping hands, until the drifter girl fell from above on both with her sword swinging. The queen raised the golden sword in her free hand defensively in response and Alex saw the blade glow.

“How-”

The drifter girl’s bronze sword stopped in mid-swing. It didn’t slow down, and it was not blocked. It simply… stopped moving, losing all momentum as if some force had pressed pause on the world. The girl‘s body did not receive the same treatment. Her eyes widened as she realised she was falling into a suspended blade and she turned in mid-air.

Too late. She crashed into the blade and spun to roll on the ground, groaning. The spin had saved her.

A huff of annoyance. The Queen pulled Alex’s wrist and swung her blade, Alex threw up his sword to block the blow.

Hard. As hard as he could hit. But that light, a Skill? Impossible. How did she do that?

She was—fast. But only as fast as he could be. Still, She came at him like lightning and they fought—until she jumped and kicked out with both feet. With one wrist still locked in her grip, Alex could only raise his remaining limbs and blade to block it. An impact, and the powerful blow sent him back some distance, though he landed without issue. The queen watched him from afar, both of her hands bare and disarmed. Alex had kicked the gold sword out of her grip as her blow connected.

John still stood back, gawking. Alex rose from his crouched position and saw the Queen-

With her back to them, although Alex knew too well how she could see them through other means if she wished.

She looked regretful and forlorn. Staring with sadness at the remnants of her womb while feeling at the cord that had connected her to it. Then she turned and stretched both of her arms wide, summoning her bronze and gold blades. The swords flew into her open palms with a slap.

She took a step forward, eyeing them as she crouched and all present with a blade shifted at her movement, raising their weapons instinctively.

“Now I am a Queen of nothing.” She muttered the words, closed her eyes and took one deep, long breath. Then she tensed with her new legs and leapt.

Through the air she soared, a streak. Alex charged to meet her in turn, his sword held low in preparation for an upward swing. The queen, gripping her bronze sword, swung it downward. The sword elongated, slicing a path through the ceiling before descending towards Alex with unstoppable force.

Her speed and strength had been limited, constrained. She had been Barred from the system's influence. Barred from its boons. She moved through the air with speed and strength that perfectly aligned with Alex’s.

She was slow, even.

Alex could see her swing as clearly as if it was his own. He raised his blade to deflect it, and at the point of impact her blade shone brighter.

Her bronze blade carved through his blade as it would through butter.

Alex’s eyes widened in shock. He threw himself from the path of her descending blade, spinning around to land on his feet. His blade lashed out without thought as he spun, aimed unnervingly at where his senses told him the Queen's head would be. She was bent over, having finished striking the ground, her sword still embedded in the cracked stone floor. She’s vulnerable- he thought.

mistakenly.

Her gold sword swung at an angle that would break human shoulders and blocked his blow with perfectly equal strength, then she rose from the ground and kicked and Alex’s world lurched. His world spun not from nausea but from flight, as her kick had sent him flying as his kicks could send her.

Alex could still sense the structure of the world around him as he tumbled through the air. Though it spun to his eyes the world remained stationary to his senses. He landed on his feet like a cat would and his bones creaked, bruised and most likely fractured, but not broken.

A red circle painted a bloody tattoo on his shoulder, but he felt no pain. He rolled the joint and a thin disk of skin and muscle tissue fell to the ground with a wet smack. A perfect cut.

The queen frowned. She had been intending on cutting him in half. “So, we fight without the new magics. A pity,” was all she said.

Alex winced as the cold air of the chamber embraced his open wound. In the instant his blade had broken he had almost attempted to use his ‘Boundless Dodge’ skill out of instinct, forgetting he was as stymied and removed from the system as she was. It would have been his end if he had attempted it.

The ground cracked beneath him in a line that smashed through the far wall, reopening the door that sealed them in. The line traced the path of her blade, stemming from the impact of her strike, and cut so deep into the earth it gave glimpses of other sections of the cave system, where Alex saw distant dark figures of arachnae battling far below.

Alex couldn't hide his shock. His skill ‘Duel of corruption’ had erased the system's influence on them both, it had created a field without the system. A domain that separated and clung to them even as they left it. He could see it now, faintly, the air was more vibrant wherever they moved and mana was wrenched free from the system’s control wherever they ventured. He had banished it completely. They had no skills, no feats, no classes and equal stats.

She was still moving at his speed. Still swinging as fast as he could. So how did she do that? How was her sword glowing? How had her strike caused such decimation?

“How did I do that without the system?” She spoke as if reading his thoughts but merely sensed his expression. Alex’s arm was shaking as he stared into the chasm her swing had created. “You caused this, I think.“ She said. “This return of the old magics. It’s all because of you.” The Queen looked disinterested by the notion of it, though. Detached.

“That was not a skill.”

***

The Queen swung a second time and a violent burst of unbound mana ravaged the air where Alex had stood. He had felt the blades of mana and air shooting at him and launched himself aside, now eyeing his surroundings with the entirety of his remaining senses.

What does she mean that’s not a skill?!

Alex was lost, adrift in an endless sea of questions without answers. His glitched skill made no sense, it removed the system and both his and his opponent's active skills, feats and class completely, but it didn’t remove his passives for some reason. His passive skills still worked albeit in a limited and weakened form. They were not as powerful as they were when he’d been connected to the system; His multitude of senses were slightly dulled, and he could still feel the space around him in 360 degrees although not in great detail. He couldn’t feel his inventory, it was no longer a space he could clearly envision as it had been when the system’s complex mana still infused him. Instead he felt nothing at all that would indicate he had an extra-dimensional space connected to him. But he knew it was there, if it wasn't wouldn't all of the items he’d stored fall into existence at the system's removal? The fact that his passives still worked in weaker form suggested that some element of them had nothing to do with the system and that the system's presence merely enhanced them. It was fortunate he’d only placed swords and healing potions in his inventory. A flex of his will could place and pull items out of it at random with no idea what item was being pulled and no way of enforcing choice in the matter.

Three and a half minutes left. Alex thought, Can’t let her use that long-range attack- how is she doing that?- we need to end this before she gets her stats back. Alex raised his sword to close the distance.

The queen cut through his thoughts with harsh words. “You have killed my swarm.”

She still hadn’t moved from where she stood rooted. Despite the violent outburst, she didn’t seem angry. She felt… lost. Her voice was solemn, broken. Her fists trembled and shook her sword.

Alex positioned his sword for a downward slash, preparing to cleave her head or split her torso. He watched her every move as he drew near, studying her static form with confusion. She seems- are those tears? A myriad of wet streaks dripped across her features. Alex didn’t quite know what to make of it.

“You have made me the second Nomadic Queen,” She said. “Which of you shall I repay first?”

He sensed a surge of mana, saw her weapon begin to brighten and swung his blade with urgency. The Hidden Queen launched off the ground under his swing. Alex halted and reversed the blow to cleave backwards.

But she was gone. She shot straight past him, crouched lower with her next step and leapt, soaring into the air and not so much as glancing at him. Straight past Alex’s speeding form she flew, high, and all heads raised to pursue her flight. Her speed matched and maintained the distance between them perfectly.

She shot past Alex and past the stunned drifter girl; straight for John. John was staring at her falling form and belatedly realized she was heading at him and not the others.

He ran.

“Oh fuck,” Blood swelled at his feet, launching him away from her descent with each step. “ohfuckohfuckohfuck.” He was headed for the gap her first strike had broken in the door, hard blocks of blood and ichor forming on all parts of his form with each step, pulled from all corners of the chamber. Mana infused each block to enhance its stability and resist foreign forces, it surged within each of his constructs. The intense fear of his impending death had propelled him to alter the system's limits on his skills through raw emotion and will, somehow. John’s weakness had revealed a unique aptitude for skill mastery that could make the system's elders' chests tighten in envy.

By the time she crashed in front of him and barred his escape, he had become a seven-foot defensive behemoth of hardened blood, a crystallized golem that stared down at the queen's much smaller form and trembled in fear still. Despite the fear engulfing him, John swung a fist, which soon became a blade of blood that painted a line of destruction in any stone that met its path

“Sacrificial Bl-”

The Queen removed her swords from his stomach before he felt the pain. The tip of her swords had cut through inches of hardened blood as firm as metals as if they had never been there. She stepped back and looked at him as he froze. John fell to the ground in two pieces, his legs removed.

“The first,” she said, her voice strained and distant- pained.

John struggled on the ground, grunting in pain, his blood flowing back into him just as fast as it left his form. He fought with every ounce of mana to will his blood to return to him and to stay alive. a losing battle.

Alex and The girl arrived before the Queen in whirls of fury.

Their blades came out like an enraged artist's painting. A tableau of two strokes. One—a sharp stroke, swift and striking, aimed straight for the queen's head. The other, to ram through her chest and scar it red. Or black. They moved in unison, one slower, the other adapting their pace to match and confuse her seamlessly.

For a moment, they achieved perfect harmony, the type one would expect from conjoined minds

They struck.

And Alex was the first to falter, he saw the queen's Bronze blade cleave through the girl's weapon as the gold one parried his own, saw how both weapons hummed with inner light, saw how her legs lashed out to kick them both the moment he moved to counter, and saw how her perfectly timed move sent them both to the ground, countering them as though she had faced such an onslaught a thousand times before.

They slid across the ground in separate directions, the man and the girl.

Alex summoned a sword from his inventory at random, a crystal blue blade that seemed to hum with raw mana of its own, vibrant and alive. But it was mana he couldn’t access. Without the system, he didn’t know how.

Before he could even rise he sensed the ground tremble and the air part in multiple streaks toward him. The nomadic Queen had swung her golden sword, causing gold shards to manifest from the raw unbound mana that surrounded them both to shoot in his direction. Then she swung her other hand and her bronze sword elongated to cleave at him from afar, causing Alex to frantically evade somewhat successfully, his every deflection and step harried. A spin through the air caused the stretching bronze blade to only cut into his back rather than split him in two and the shards missed their mark. Without using his eyes, Alex perceived her charging at his distracted form, even as a spray of golden spears bombarded him. The final shard zipped past the moment Alex Landing with his back turned to her, facing the far wall. He cursed internally, spun-

A sword pierced him to the wall-

The queen nailed his shoulder into the stone with such force that the sword snapped. “Too soon,” she said, “Not yet.” The woman turned away.

“You shall be next, youngling.” The Queen pointed her sword at the girl, who paled, raising a broken blade with trembling hands. The queen walked to face her.

“You do not know our history, you don’t know how many times humans have betrayed and destroyed us. How could you? You don’t understand their capacity for evil.” she struck out and Gold cut through steel, an impossibility.

“How could you? You weren't there to witness Kings and human heroes massacre our surrendered. And You’re incomplete, you didn’t kill your source, did you?” Her aura-enhanced blade sheared off a thin layer of the tip of the girl's blade with each of her swings, she was toying with her.

The young drifter girl with queen-like capabilities tried her best to fight back and swung with all she had.

***

The Queen looked down at the girl with a human appearance and powerful limbs, swinging a sword wildly. The girl who trusted humans. It pained her to witness such a sight. Still, she struck. “Every member of this hive is irreplaceable, now. so I won’t kill you. I will just take an arm. separate them and offer one to me.” She raised the bronze sword high, “It will not be painless, I will make sure of it.”

The girl remained mute, stifling a cry of pain and refusing to whimper. Instead, she tightened her grip on her chipped sword, her knuckles whitening.

The queen swung at the girl, a punishing blow aimed to loop off her arm and inflict pain. The girl attempted to mimic the human males' earlier deflections and tilted her sword with a jolt on impact to redirect the blow. It surprised the queen, but only in its novelty. She had barely deflected her and lost several fingers in the process.

The beginnings of justice. It paled in comparison to what the drifter girl had helped enact. A Queen's womb would never regrow, once it was destroyed the swarm would be doomed to die out no matter what evolutions they achieved. Only the queens could reproduce, and to force a queen to remove that capability was to deal a direct blow to the entirety of their kind.

Queens were rare, there were only ten of them. And now, two of their numbers were incapable of reproduction.

“You don’t even know what you did, do you?” The queen struck again and a sheet of metal was carved from the struck blade. “Without another queen, all of them are destined to die in this land. They cannot survive without us. You cannot survive without us.”

The girl didn’t reply—but her chipped sword kept going and swept to cleave off the Queen's head.

The drifter girl pivoted her left foot, grounding herself. Then, with a sharp exhale, she swung her sword in a wide arc, then turned it to a thrust, aiming directly at the Queen's neck. The blade sliced through the air.

Memories flashed through her mind: in the dim light of the cave system, Alex had explained the tsuki, focusing on its purpose as more than just a thrust. It was a culmination of balance, focus, and the precise channelling of force. He detailed how shifting one's weight forward, aligning the body correctly, and extending the arms not only maximizes the power behind the thrust but also turns the body into a conduit for that power. The theory behind the tsuki, he pointed out, was rooted in understanding the opponent's vulnerabilities and exploiting them with a strike that was both swift and devastatingly precise.

Alex demonstrated the move to her, then. She mimicked it perfectly now. Her tsuki-thrust emphasized her shift of weight from one foot to the other perfectly. She aligned her body just as Alex had taught her, and extended her arms fully, driving the sword forward in a precise, upward thrust.

***

The Queen saw the deadly cut coming and looked— Bored.

Before she had evolved to monarchy, the queen had studied many sword styles, driven by the urges of her past life. She had spent most of her life trying to recreate her source’s style; The god of duels Deific Blade, or the God Slaying Blade as its creator had originally called it. She had reconstructed the style from broken adopted memories. But what she had built was not complete.

She had never managed to completely recreate the lost style, but had studied many more in the process- the Giant Slaying Sword and The Rising Swallow were some of her favourites. As a result of half a lifetime spent studying the blade, she could easily recognise and assess a person's sword. It was clear to her that the drifter girl had learned the human male’s strange swordplay.

It was a sword style different from any she had studied in her youth. An amalgamation of many styles rather than a seamless integration of few. it had less pageantry. In their brief clashes the human males sword had moved in ways that only someone who truly loved killing would think of, there were hardly any wasted movements. An economy of form. It was quaint, but it lacked beauty. The only glimpse of beauty she had seen was in his final blow, but it had not been repeated. She believed all swings in combat should be beautiful, as did her source. All of her sword swings contained the essence of her art.

The fact that such an unrefined and impersonal sword had slayed her entire swarm offended her deeply. She would need to see more of it.

The Queen set her feet and raised her sword, the blade horizontal and it's edge angled to face the unseen sky. Her blade followed a stance she had not used in centuria and she cut down the drifter girl with the blow of the Third Stance of Arrivals- it felt apt.

The girl crashed to the ground disarmed and the Queen was on top of her, a foot pressing into her chest and holding her broken blade in her hand. The Queen stabbed the blade into the girl's stomach up to the hilt and then pushed further, pinning her to the ground as the blade dug deep into stone.

“You don’t understand why you swing your blade, or why your soul asks you to follow that worthless human.” The girl looked up with black blood on her lips as the fallen Monarch addressed her. “Your mimicry is hollow and your swings are dull. Without answers to the reason for your existence, you will never reach me. Or even him.”

The defeated girl absorbed the Queens words but failed to grasp them. What was the reason for her existence? How could it help her reach the same monstrous heights of swordplay those two displayed? Or surpass them? The girl knew that should she survive, she would spend every waking moment searching for an answer. But she could not see one right now, not through the pain- or the tears. She lay there, disarmed. bleeding onto the stone floor.

The Queen then turned and faced Alex at the instant he freed himself.

“You.”

She pointed—and Alex lifted his blade.

***

Three minutes. It had only been three minutes.

What should have been a simple monster-slaying had descended into chaos. John lay dying or dead, and the girl lay in similar condition; nailed to the ground in bloody purgatory.

Three minutes of battle, a difficult one but not impossible battle that should have ended when he’d sliced her in two. I should have double-tapped her. Always double-tap. He thought through the pain as he used a blue blade summoned at random to saw through the blade pinning him to the wall. His strength should have been enough to free him, but the damned monster had rammed him into the far wall with such force that the blade had curved and snapped, turning into a hook that held him in place like a gruesome trophy.

He heard a scream and saw the queen rise from the fallen girl. The girl hadn’t stood a chance. But she had fought well, for a novice.

I should have asked for her name, the thought occurred to Alex the moment he freed himself, his restraints now mere remnants of broken and twisted metal that fell clattering to the ground. His feet made contact with the stone floor, and his hands felt the soft warmth of the blue crystal blade in his hand, held as one would hold a life raft when submerged in wrathful deluge. A blade of pure mineral, blue and sharp enough to saw through metal while remaining unblemished. He’d pulled the blade from his inventory after stealing it from the queen's treasures. He couldn’t miss the way the blade swirled and hummed softly to his enhanced senses. It held a soft glow of its own mana source, separate from the rest of the world. The blade held a brightness and vibrance that made the blades he’d held before seem like works of darkness. To the naked eye the blade remained static, but he constantly sensed how the air shook in soft waves around the blade, sending waves of information crashing into him with each millisecond that passed. He could feel every inch of this blade as if it were his own skin. He had no clue what capabilities the sword held but sensed how the mana within screamed for release, to fulfill its purpose.

A purpose I need the system to fulfil, Alex thought as he rose. He was beginning to see further drawbacks to his skill, ‘Duel of Corruption’. The skill banished the system for both himself and his target, would alter one’s stats to perfectly match the others and would otherwise place them on equal ground. But the skill did not account for those able to utilise mana without access to the system.

In a world such as this one, a world where the people had spent hundreds if not thousands of years mastering the use of raw and untamed mana, the skill would not be a restraint but a tool for freedom. In a world such as this where the system was fresh and the memory of magic was not forgotten, they would be able to utilise ‘True magic’, as Kier had called it. In a world where the system had existed for millennia and True magic was forgotten, the skill would act as an equaliser to those within its level range.

But in a world like the one he found himself, where the memory of old magic was fresh, each use of the skill would be laden with danger and each time it was triggered a dance with death could ensue.

Time to dance then, I guess, he thought with grim resolve. All he could do was fight. She may be strong, but she was only as strong as he was. She may have been good with her sword- so good that each of her swings held magic, but he still had his Dao and he had seen better.

Without magic, his grandfather could have wiped the floor with her.

The clattering of broken metal caused the Queen to increase her slow pace, she shot forward, a streak.

Alex was on his feet. He exploded forward, crossing the distance instantly.

But the Queen was as fast as he was. She cut the air in half and Alex knelt as fifty scars crisscrossed the chamber in a line at his head’s height, this time less deadly than her first swing.

She swung again, careful not to damage the structural integrity of her chamber further, as Alex sidestepped and ducked, moving closer and closing the distance between them.

Her blow made contact with his blue crystal blade and her deadly mana clung to his blade after they parted, usurped and co-opted. So that’s what it does, a quick glance at his stolen sword and Alex’s eyes widened in surprise. He had released his dao and a remnant of it still clung to the blade, weaker but persistent, eager to remain. He slashed and it disappeared.

Blades clashed and Alex recoiled under the weight of her Aura. Then he pivoted on his heel, redirecting the weight of her blow, and her mana slipped onto his blade, empowering his next swing. His Dao followed and empowered it further. A magic blade that steals whatever energy it touches? Jackpot. He smiled, then- and swung with all he had.

The Dao surged through his blade and its blue shine intensified. His will guided his steps and the lives of his fallen allies fuelled his urgency. He ducked and twisted and slashed with a pivot, the dao within his blade causing a constant state of flux that cut through any and all it encountered. If only he could withstand it. His head pounded from the strain and his foe adapted to each use, targeting the hilt or base of his blade where the Dao was non-existent, or evading his blows completely whenever she sensed reality shift at the edge of his blade. But he was gaining ground. The Queen swung and Alex slashed, the ‘Insight of the Imperial’ at the forefront of his mind.

Today, he thought with a stab, elbows extended, his movement sculpting a path through her blade's range.

Now, he resolved with another step, his urgency as emphatic as his swings, his blade touched the carapace to draw a thin and shallow line, the first wound her new form had ever experienced.

She dies. He leapt with conviction.

With this exchange, he would end her and claim the system's boons.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 40: Sacrifice

Alex felt tremors running through the ground beneath his feet. The vibrations spiked and the sound and airwaves soon joined them, bursting with meaning and imagery; the sensations painted a picture of destruction. Several of the queen's limbs had crashed into the girl’s location behind him causing the stone floor to erupt in a plume of chaos, dust, and rubble. He tilted his head slightly, assessing the dust cloud and debris-covered wreckage without eyes, searching for the girl's condition.

She would live.

Alex climbed. Each stab of his blade left behind as he ascended the monstrous limb. More blades appeared in his hands, thrown forward with each leap.

“FIGHT ME HONOURABLY!”

The Queen lashed out. Alex felt the attacks before they came. Most of them. He twisted in mid-air, dodging with difficulty. Dust billowed where the Queen’s strike missed and landed on stone.

The limb's return to the queen stirred the air, cooling his face. To fight her with honour was a strange notion. Did monsters have honour? He wondered.

In his mad ascent he reached a joint. Paused. Below, the battle raged on, a maelstrom of dust and fury as his human and humanoid companions fought against monstrosity.

Maybe they did, he concluded.

But the queen was distracted.

Her martial assault had been belayed.

He saw her porcelain beauty, a human form atop a monstrous one, and sensed the chemical depth and unfathomably complex mass of mana that lay deep within her sternum. Her core lay in her upper half, the part atop the monster that so resembled a human female. He’d found the mana-heart that made up the entirety of her soul and sought to slay it.

To destroy the essence of what she was.

Alex raced up her form and summoned his Dao a final time to separate Queen from throne.

***

He dodged frantically as he raced higher, past the womb and to the base and his sword plunged deep into limbs as thick as his own body. The blade stuck, refusing to cut through entirely. Broken chitin shifted under his feet as he struggled to free it. Unable to dislodge his sword, he let it go and leapt aside just as another limb crashed past where he stood seconds before.

He summoned another edge and stabbed where he landed.

Alex rose to his feet, raising his new blade with swift motions. Drops of his Dao greedily infused his weapon with mere dregs of understanding, but the dregs were empowered by the altered space- and his Dao-infused blade bent reality wherever it moved.

A massive spear of chitin whistled through the air with speed as it shot directly at his heart.

He sidestepped, a blur to any onlooker. The movement cracked the carapace beneath his feet. He kept moving forward and upward to the base of the Queen's form; her humanoid porcelain upper half.

An upward swing. A surge of Dao. A limb fell like a bisected tree, or a stilled wave.

He felt the rush of air as another limb passed him, missing him by centimetres. But her martial form had been abandoned in her distraction. He had felt the attack even as she had begun to move, The sensation was familiar to him, now. Strikes missed and more limbs fell, separated from their royal owner. Some strikes came close, but the sensations they left- of narrowly escaping death- filled him with so much excitement he could burst. It was exhilarating. Adrenaline surged, sharpening his senses further. The world was his to view in any way he wished. He could sense everything. Anything.

He had never felt this way before. Not really. It made him wish the battle would never end.

But it had to.

Alex stood atop the base of her form; the thorax-like structure that merged with her womb. Eggs squirmed beneath his feet, protected by a thin layer of transparent chitin. The final limb blocking his way from her main body fell, and The Queen's human torso became vulnerable. She was unprotected but still a distance away from him- at the top and in the centre. Her porcelain form was bare- half human, half arachnid. Her giant limbs had been either removed by his assault or preoccupied by his companions. Her sea of spears had been quelled.

“You have been lucky.” That was all she said.

Alex shifted. Muscles tensed, then released with explosive power. He surged forward to land before her in a crouch, then he rose to look her in the eye.

And she was beautiful.

But a monster. The beauty was a facsimile. A foyer to rot that had massacred beings for uncounted years.

She had to die.

His Dao surged and his blade became the embodiment of flux, ever moving and changing and ceasing to exist in states while existing in many others. It vanished before his senses and before all present, replaced with something none could truly perceive.

The Dao surged greedily in freedom as Alex swung without a word.

Facing his impending blade, the Queen's eyes widened in a mix of emotions; there was surprise, fear, and immense shock- or more aptly, disbelief. Disbelief radiated through her, the disbelief of a giant being felled by ants. She froze as Alex’s blade connected.

It split her in two.

The strike landed beneath her navel where humanoid stomach met arachnid form, and the human form fell. She reached out as she fell, dying but clawing for survival, one arm found purchase and clung to the dying womb removed of its legs and owner, and the other arm struggled to keep her organs inside of her.

She paused as she hung there suspended between life and death and Alex drew near to end it.

The Queen eyed Alex with a complex gaze as if considering her options. Her expression was torn, and her eyes turned cloudy as if the option of her death was far less an evil than whatever act she was considering taking to survive.

She trembled as Alex stepped forward, but it wasn’t from fear- she wasn’t even paying attention to him. She was staring at her dying womb and the eggs that lay within.

Another step, he raised his sword to strike her down a final time, his senses honed like lasers into the place where he sensed the thrumming of her core. She held a strange expression.

Alex had seen the expression before, it looked like… grief?

She looked back at Alex, not with hatred or contempt, fear, or even anger. Her eyes were clouded with tears and her lips trembling with regret. She stilled as whatever internal struggle she faced had been decided. Then she did the unthinkable.

The broken queen tore open her womb and plunged herself within, consuming any eggs she found within reach.

Alex struck, then. But it was too late.

The chamber flashed white as she became something else entirely.

Chapter 39 & Interlude: Sea of Spears / Ichor and Steel

Something strange had happened to Alex’s skill. It wasn’t broken. Well, maybe it was broken, corrupted. His entire class was. But it had become more twisted than before. His skill wasn’t broken in the way a blunted blade snapped at the hilt was broken; the useless kind of broken. No, It was a different kind of broken, of a more useful nature. Like a faulty ignition switch that would start a car too easily, or a sword that snapped vertically to create a sharper, more jagged and deadlier needle edge.

The air tingled, a sensation that prickled his skin and his passive sensing skills- which still worked somehow, although muted - fed him a myriad of information on how his corrupted duelling skill impacted the world around him. But his skill still felt wrong, somehow. It felt broken in the way paths could be. it felt like it had skipped some steps it had taken upon its first activation and now it ran with a freedom that exceeded his control, guided and enhanced by his advanced senses.

A shortcut for the skill had been carved by his senses, it seemed.

Inner, Outer, and Bestial. Skills that allowed him to view the world in more ways and channels than most could dream of and others could take years or centuries to master. Together, the three skills became greater than the sum of their parts. They gave him insight into the battle of energies that occurred around him, the corruption of his skill against the inhibiting structure of the system. But insight without understanding was like a boat without moors- and Alex’s boat could only wonder at what it was seeing.

The electric charge around Alex intensified making the hairs on his arm stand. Unseen Sparks of mana erupted around him then settled, the system's influence nowhere to be found.

Did the mana get… stronger? He wondered in awe. Within his sphere, the world's mana felt more potent, and richer. Wilder and thicker, it blazed and thrashed unconstrained. It pressed against his skin like a summer's breeze, and he felt it. He sensed and saw the system’s diluted mana at the edge of his corrupted sphere, fighting to regain control of its lost space. but it made no progress. rarely, it would trap and assimilate the richer mana of his sphere, shackling it to its strange indecipherably rigid structures, but it was a slow process, like a legion of wolves capturing lions. It would be minutes before his skill ended this time. he could vaguely sense the system's attempts to encroach on the space influenced by his Duel of Corruption and judged the limit based on the slow encroachment of the system's weaker mana. It wouldn't stop others from joining their battle uninhibited with their systems intact, as the corrupted debuff skill was not capable of removing the system-mana seeped into the bones and bodies of more than one target. But it would put him and the Queen on level ground, for a time. It felt like he had five minutes, maybe.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?”

The Queen roared and attacked Alex in panic- an erratic response to the unknown fuelled by both distant memories and a primal fear she did not understand.

I don’t actually know what I did, Alex thought as his world became doused in shadow. Eight tree-like limbs descended in a blur, all aimed at his stationary form. They blotted the light as they moved to engulf him from all sides. The quick motion of her strikes created whistling sounds and her limbs split the air, but thanks to the unholy duel his skill had initiated, Alex could track her attacks as easily as he followed the movements of his blade.

The sharpest of her strikes launched towards his heart with the swiftness of a striking serpent. A swiftness he now matched perfectly.

Alex responded.

He turned on his heel to pivot and evade the strike's path, a trace of his movement carving divots in the stone ground as he sidestepped.

The limb halted abruptly in the space where he had just been-

A shower of inhuman life fluids descended, painting the stone ground black. Digits fell to the ground, removed from the monstrous palm. Monstrous palm fell to stone, removed from an inhuman wrist.

Alex hacked off her limb as a woodman would hack through a tree. He pulled his blade in as he withdrew it from her wound to cause further injury, tucking his elbow inward as he pulled to slice her deeper. That was a trick taught to him by his grandfather and one he had never expected to have to use before his rebirth- but that trick should not have been enough to completely remove her thick appendages- after all, she shared his strength and endurance, not to mention that her chitin armoured limb was thicker than he was. Some other force had dramatically enhanced the damage he was capable of delivering;

His Dao.

He had touched upon the Dao as he struck- only a little, and the Dao had poured into and through him in a way he had not anticipated.

Meaning washed over him effortlessly, truths he had uncovered long before he’d set foot on this world's grass.

Where before it had felt like a single drop of water, it now felt like many more. Not a deluge, but several thicker, larger raindrops that swirled fell to him in excitement. The surge of meaning he’d gleaned during his time in the incursion dungeon rushed hungrily into his blade, eager to unleash itself upon the world.

What the- Alex felt tingly, the kind of feeling you felt right before a storm. And the Dao was suddenly unnaturally strong within his corrupted skills sphere. There was a metallic scent to the air- no, not a scent, he realised, it’s more of a feeling. It felt Like the air was heavier, like it was somehow more of itself: more air-like than it had been before. He vaguely sensed an electric charge in the air in a sphere around him and sensed it slightly further as it rushed into his body, altering and changing the energies within him. It looked as if microscopic explosions of mana were taking place, as if the mana within the sphere was being forcibly freed from the system's control. There was no time to investigate the sensation, but he suspected his Inner Sense skill wouldn’t even be capable of further discovery.

Ichor rained through the chamber. The queen recoiled.

“Luck and strange magic,” The Queen grunted In surprised confusion and pain. She retracted her spear-like limbs and cradled her broken limb. She seemed unconcerned with his achievement.

“What are you, Little thing?” She looked at him, really looked at him, reassessing his capabilities and potential as a threat. And still she was unimpressed.

Alex didn’t respond. Feeling the airwaves part in a rush behind him he leaned aside and tilted his head to let her limbs graze past his hair.

A surprise attack? She didn’t seem like the type. He had expected her to face him haughtily with nose held high until the end. If she can abandon her emotions and adapt so quickly, She might be smarter than I’d thought, Alex mused.

A single strand of his hair floated to the ground. A miscalculation, but an inconsequential one. He still had the advantage and his empowered connection to the Dao.

He sensed minute tremors in the ground beneath his feet and saw her next strike as one would see a city from above. Is this how they see the world? Alex was in awe as he twisted and jumped, his lost eye making no difference in his capabilities. Her limb shot beneath him to carve a path through stone. How have they not taken over every city yet? He wondered, as he stepped with back turned and legs coiled like springs to launch to the side. And if they all have these senses, how strong must the humans have been to keep them from taking over?

More questions. It felt as though this world had an ocean of secrets for him to uncover.

The queen's second appendage sliced through the air aiming at his previous position. It crashed into stone, causing the ground to shudder upon impact and cracks to radiate from where her limb narrowly missed.

His movement and the crashing limb sent a cloud of dust into the air briefly obscuring the battlefield. But the dust meant nothing to the combatants, both of them saw what lay within clearly.

She struck several times more.

Clouds of chipped earth and stone rose with each strike to obscure mundane vision. Alex felt a rush of air, chemicals, and sound as a limb shot to his head, he dodged it as an expert would dodge a novice. He sensed another limb, this one aiming lower, targeting his legs. He jumped, and The impact of her limb against the ground sent vibrations through the soles of Alex's boots.

Holy- He was in the air and he still felt it carving the ground as if his feet were planted firmly on stone. He felt it in intricate detail, deeply and intimately. The blow parted stone like a blade through water, small pebbles of marble stone and earth separated in a long line beneath him to scar the chamber's floor. The clear image he felt made him thankful for his skill choice once more.

Hive-mind was great but it would’ve been pretty useless right now, wouldn’t it? He thought absent-mindedly as the queen struck at him with careless abandon. He had observed a pattern in the queen's attacks and realization dawned. She only moved to position her limbs to strike but didn’t attack until he shifted. She’s reacting to movement, of course, he noted internally while adjusting his stance.

A feint left. A limb followed the bait. A miss.

A dash right. The next limb pursued, slamming into the ground again. Another miss.

Limbs converged in a mass of spears so thick a simple dodge would not suffice, and Alex’s visual sight became engulfed with death. A surging wave of finality.

The blow landed.

Alex dug his heel into the stone floor, pivoting and launching himself with strength many times that of a baseline human. The strike missed.

“Human filth!” The queen screeched in rage and indignation. “How do you see like us?”

She struck again. This time it was not in mindless rage or callous disregard, but a display of practised forms bred from contempt- Her martial discipline short forth and her art of war raced forward.

Her Sea of Spears fell upon him.

Chaos. A strange martial art erupted from the queen and engulfed Alex’s senses- her limbs surrounded him from all sides and crashed into him, eroding his wariness. It was an effortless wave of strikes and stabs from all angles- several would crash into his position and recede where several more took its place. It was a wave. Many waves. The flow of her strikes seemed to blend together, softening to a lull before crashing into his bank with a force that could erode mountains. The two combatants moved in blurs before the eyes of all present, their speeds unmatched by all others within the chamber. Luminous Arachne pressed themselves into the walls attempting to meld themselves to it, lest they be eviscerated by the fallout. The queen's limbs moved in a mirage of spears- deflecting, striking and eroding Alex’s 3-dimensional senses with their ubiquity.

Then there was a lull. The waves receded. Her ocean calmed.

Alex stilled, envisioning his surroundings in its full capacity. He saw every curve and contour of the chamber and felt every inch of the queen's form. But when he tried to grasp her limbs, he couldn’t. Where?-

The lull ended, the waves of her assault returned and fell.

He could see and sense her limbs now.

They were everywhere and crashed into his location.

An ocean of spears descended upon him.

Strikes crashed into where Alex was and where he would be, causing Chunks of debris to scatter and dust to billow wherever they landed. the queen retracted her limbs smoothly, an action that generated a gust, clearing the dust and creating a clearer visual view for the luminescent onlookers pressed against the walls in fear of their standoff.

The queen struck again, and Alex’s Dao surged in response to her offending waves.

One royal limb fell, bisected, and the ground quaked in its landing.

Enrage, the queen screamed, and lights dulled to dim as the luminous variants lost consciousness in the face of her fury.

From her sea of spears, a tsunami of limbs descended. It blotted the remaining light from Alex’s vision.

Madness. Alex darted beneath the Queen's mad assault. His blade sank into her chitin, unable to pierce completely. He wrenched at the sword, stuck fast. No choice but to let go. Another limb swooped down. He rolled clear, feeling the rush of air as it missed. Pain blossomed. It didn’t miss. it grazed his back, taking flesh. A instinctive flex. Without thought he summoned another blade. Why did his inventory work? No time. He swung hard. Blade bit into chitin, stuck, unmoving. She wrenched the blade free from his grasp. He downed another potion.

She was adapting, learning how to fight him. She had too many limbs and her martial art had made them illusionary, faster. Even to his senses.

He could still fight her like this, but it would take too long. He only had 5 minutes before her speed and strength would return and outstrip his. Alex was wondering what he should do, assessing his options and grasping for answers as the Queen grew more skilled with each evaded blow. She was close to fully adapting.

And it had only been the first minute.

***

John felt his body give a start. It was a strange feeling, to grow stronger with each fading breath.

John lay on the ground in a heap, having been struck by the queens opening blow and crashing into the wall. He was dying and yet he felt stronger than he’d ever thought possible. His heart beat in stutters as he made to rise, he felt himself stumble as he stood and yet his steps cracked the ground. But he was dying. He willed his blood to move through him, it guided his steps and kept him alive- kept him strong. But he felt his chest convulse and his heart aching in pain. This wouldn’t last long.

John was terrified of death. But now that he found himself facing it, it wasn’t so bad. He knew that was just the effect of his doomed class swaying him- to grow stronger with each injury and each drop of blood shed meant to feel better and greater the closer you came to the end- but it didn’t make it any less true. He felt strong.

Strong enough to hurt her.

And so he tried. Tried to slay a monster that could destroy countries with his blood sword. He tried to do something meaningful before he died. But he felt his steps begin to falter further and his grip on blood slip. His lungs burned, not with exhaustion, but with collapse. It seemed death had come sooner than he’d planned, and without a skill to keep it at bay, John braced for the inevitable end.

Then he heard a yell and saw a red glint flying towards him.

A lifeline. Alex had thrown him a healing potion, an expression of worry on his face. As John reached out and caught it, he looked forward and saw Alex smile.

John downed it in one.

Healing energy seeped through John and his strength returned and increased. Each of his steps were fueled by the chambers deluge of spilled life fluids. Relief filled the BloodBerserker as he gazed ahead and witnessed Alex battling the monstrosity. And then, just as suddenly, the relief turned to fury.

A creature beneath the shell of a human girl stood beside him, with hair so dark and thick it seemed to shine reflective—almost metallic. She lifted her sword. John’s eyes traced her features in a fraction of a second, it felt like forever. He was unsure how he was supposed to feel about her nature, all his life he had been taught that her kind’s existence was a blight. They were the enemy- she was the enemy. But without her he would surely die and with her he might die still. She met the town guard's eyes and held his gaze. He lifted his blade. She nodded to him and the unspoken meaning held within the action passed between them.

He and the inhuman girl besides him charged.

“Don’t let them trap you! Find the gaps!" John yelled as he swung at the nearest limb, digging his blade into the reflective carapace. The queen had eight limbs that spanned almost the entire length of the chamber. Most limbs shot like spears to fight Alex, several more aimed to kill John and the girl with swift blows. Limbs like massive spears struck out at them from all sides as they drew closer to the stationary queen’s throne in the hopes of aiding Alex. The girl charged left towards another limb. She raced forward and leapt, her blade swinging down in a wide and powerful-

The wind was knocked out of her. Gasping without air, she crashed to the ground as a spearing limb struck her down.

Red and black. That was all she saw next, her world became tinted in two colours. Gargantuan limbs failed to reach their target. They hammered down to end her, but didn’t reach her flesh. Her world was still covered in a thick pane of red and black, riddled with cracks that shattered and reformed constantly. They split, and black became red. What was she seeing? She closed her eyes and sensed the world, ignoring its colors.

It was John.

John had summoned a dome of life fluids to protect her, a layered structure of thick crystal that reformed the instant a strike would shatter it. Another strike, and red became black, the ground shuddered under the impact.

The dome returned to liquid. life-fluids flew through the air in a stream, returning to the call of its master. John reformed his blood-armor and covered his blade. His armament of crystallized blood. The girl rose and for a split second their gazes met, human and inhuman. Then she leapt and burst through the remnants of the dome.

Blood and Ichor. The first wave of the queens strikes had hemmed them together, boxing them in to make them easier targets. John used his most powerful skill to part the crushing limbs. A Sacrificial Blade. His dark greatsword swung in the widest of arcs, its width fit to match the queen's limbs. A crescent of his ichor and blood painted the chamber's floor on impact. He saw a huge shape blur past, he swung. His blood-crystal blade shattered against its carapace, but the limb recoiled. John leapt forward and swung again. A crack- a hole, small. Another limb lashed out but his shielding took the impact, hardened blood and ichor shattered, removing his defenses.

Fury and steel. The girl matched his pace, her own steel blade a wild whirlwind of furious destruction. She deflected an errant blow and crashed to her knees under its strain. She stabbed and hacked and slashed, chipping away sections of already damaged carapace. She saw John without his blood-armour stood there Like trapped fauna before a hunting party, gawking at spears of massive limbs shooting to skewer his defenceless form. She charged left, towards the gap between John and his doom. She pushed him and spun, crouching and pivoting on her heel like Alex had taught her to do, then she leapt while channeling her imitation of the forms she had seen him use since her their first encounter. She crashed into John and pushed him out of deaths path.

Three limbs large enough to carve tunnels crashed into the space behind her.

They dug deep into the ground and a web of cracks spread wide, stone jutted out at uneven angles. John looked stunned. For a split second the adrenal rush of death surged through him. It held relief, shock, confusion, and fear… and for the second time in his life, he felt something that felt like gratitude for a monster.

He recovered and raced forward, his broad sword growing as liquid swirled wildly around him. The town guard swung his bloody greatsword and the three limbs cracked. The girl swung her sword close behind, low, cutting a path that led to the exact spot John had impacted. She saw cracked and broken limbs rising in preparation for more swift strikes.

She swung harder.

The impact of her blade on damaged limbs sent small fragments of chitin scattering across the floor. Flesh pulsed, exposed and unprotected.

The Queen screeched and her longest limb raised a blade of pure bronze, its flesh still exposed. The girl looked up. John pointed.

“Sacrificial Blade.”

Johns body moved with surety that defied his exhaustion. His sword elongated and shot forward, extended by blood. It blurred and whizzed towards the Queen’s soft flesh. He stabbed.

The girl struck at the same instant. Her sword flashed, slicing off fingers as thick as she was. A bronze blade hit the dirt.

The Queen's blade. A blade of power.

John leapt out of the way and the girl dove to retrieve the weapon, just as limbs crashed down on her location in a current of desperation. Dust erupted, a plume hiding her from all views but Alex’s.

***

John lay on the ground, surrounded by dust and rubble. He couldn’t see a thing.

“She almost killed me!”

Did his voice quiver? No, of course it didn’t. He was incapable of feeling fear and as a result was not afraid. He cleared his throat. Yes it definitely wasn’t fear. His fingers trembled. Nope, they didn’t tremble, surely not. He was not afraid. He wasn’t!

“Blood’s Debt.” As the dust cleared he lifted his sword and spoke, and blood came to him in serpentine movements more under its own control than his.

Then he raced after the Girl who stood amidst the rubble holding a bronze blade, stolen from their adversary. He charged and spoke again.

“Sacrificial Blade.” His blade became deadlier with each step.

The girl awaited his charge with a faint smirk. There was no way either of them would miss out on what came next.

Interlude: Souls and Glory

Authors note: there’s a few more chapters to come, I’ve been working on this arcs end over the past couple days as it’s a bit complex character wise- so I wanted to get it right. I originally intended to release it all in bulk for one long read but then realised that it would take too long to post and didn’t want to leave you guys hanging on a cliff. So I’ve spent today trying to find the balance between quality and schedule getting some chapters posted. I’m pretty pleased with how its turning out, although I wish I could write it exactly how it needs to be written. im Taking my time with the final chapter of this arc so that one will hopefully be quite the experience/climax.

there will be few chapters drip-fed over the next few days until that one is out :) 

Also, an important change has been made to the last chapter - the treasure on the other side of town has been revealed to actually be another large incursion dungeon that no one has returned from.:

“And those tales about system treasures on the other side of town?  The large ‘incursion dungeon’? Yeah, no one who went looking for them came back. All the adventurers and travellers of all levels had failed to return from the dungeon. Except for Fred, he seemed to be the only person capable of traversing these new lands without significant notice or trouble. The rumours of World changing treasure within the dungeon on the other side of town had claimed many victims since their return besides that sole survivor. He claimed there was nothing to see, and that the dungeon had been empty. And yet still others failed to return.”

p.s. I consider this more of a chapter than an interlude as it has some pretty important information, but in the end I decided to settle for calling it an interlude as not to confuse! Enjoy.

Glory came in many forms to many people. Some saw it as something only attainable through groundbreaking discoveries- advancements that pushed knowledge and capability forward. while others found it in simple things, like a builder arranging the perfect row of bricks, or a town baker creating the perfect loaf after months of practice; a loaf with form and structure so beautiful they considered it a crime to consume it. Most thought of Glory as something achieved by significantly improving the lives of others, often through sacrifice, exploring uncharted territories, and climbing the highest peaks. The hidden queen's notion of glory was all of these things and none of them. 

Her glory was in combat- in speed. It was a glory she had long since abandoned since her rise to Queenhood a century ago.

Her glory had been a typical and basic thing, but through relentless refinement and skill, even the most mundane objects and concepts could be elevated to extraordinary works of art. it was a form of alchemy that transformed base materials into something of great value and beauty. And she had used it to elevated her glory to realms that had once forced nations to abandon their differences and band together to slay her.

But that was an age ago, before she had ascended to join her sisters and had to end her old life to pursue something greater. Sometimes, her old glory called to her. She thought back to when she had walked upon the earth with a different form and crushed nations with her mastery, only to watch new nations rise in thier places. 

But now she walked a new path. The path of Queenhood; to carry the fate of her species on her back. Her new path was one filled with purpose and greater glory, one that filled her with pride and the endless purpose granted by potential. But despite this, at times still her old glory called to her.

She eyed her attackers with melancholy.

Three strikes. That was all it had taken to defeat them. Two humans and the most unique variant she had ever seen. She could not even call that a battle. It barely stirred her heart, and could not even touch the heels of the foes she had faced in her youth- on battlefields this generation of humans would call legend.

She was unimpressed with her three would-be usurpers, certain they had somehow fumbled their way to her. A mistake, soon to be rectified. They were slow before her- painfully so, as if weighted down by lead or some greater metals, and the fastest among them had only barely managed to evade her blows through a combination of trickery and the new magics; the magic of the systems ‘skills’.

One remained.

The human male was the only one remaining in her presence, he rose to his feet before her with a burst of unbroken will. A smile pursed the corners of her lips, it reminded her of a human king she had battled over a century ago, before she ascended. she had been mired in glory that day. She set her features and banished the memory for it would do no good to long for the unattainable. the human before her would not put up as much as fight as her old enemies could.  

A section of his face was covered in rapidly healing gore, and a broken mound of flesh remained where his right eye should be. A small and deeply buried part of her felt disappointed in his lack of dexterity, it had been so long since she’d had a real battle. 

She held back a sigh, and instead allowed her mind to drift to the first time she had ever held a blade.  The moment her young palms grasped the hilt, Memories and echoes of mastery had rushed through her, stemming from her soul and making her more than her flesh ever could.

It had been the birth of her path and the start of a journey that led to what she considered her true name- the name given to by her enemies.

They were not worthy of her blades, but they had at least made it this far- that was a feat worthy of dying by her hand. it had been so long since any other had arrived in such conditions as these humans had- with the will to fight.

She would end this quickly.

As the human made his last stand, the hidden queen prepared to end the farce of a battle of glory. 

Then something occurred that stirred things buried in the very depths of her souls.

The human muttered words- a skill’s name, and the atmosphere twisted and warped before her senses. She sensed an abrupt change, like a sudden drop in temperature. Except the drop affected everything she could perceive within the space between them. A strange force burst forth from him, surrounding them. This force felt like a tangible shift in the air, unique and disorienting.

It manifested first as a subtle charge in the air, almost imperceptible, yet she felt it through the delicate hairs covering her form. It was as if the very atmosphere around them had started to vibrate with an unseen struggle as the system itself was usurped from its throne of mana, disrupting the new flow of the world.

The most startling change, however, was in her connection to the magic that permeated the air – a connection as integral to her being as the web is to a spider. It felt as though this magic was being unmade, decomposed into its most basic elements. The queen, so attuned to these forces, sensed it as a series of minuscule explosions, each one liberating the mana from an unseen tether. This disintegration cascaded around them, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable in a way she had never experienced.

Her movements became sluggish in a way one would when mired shoulders deep in thick mud. The very air struggled against an invisible force, stripping away the organised and limited forms of minuscule mana. And stripping her of her enhanced abilities. It left her in a raw, unadorned state. Her connection to this source, once a wellspring of magic and power, seemed severed, leaving her bereft of her enhanced speed. Turning her into what she had been before the system's arrival; mortal.

It reminded her of something.

In the days before her final evolution to Queenhood, she had seen many things. Captured many humans, and battled many more. She had killed so many of their champions that the humans had given her a name, a title brewed from fear. It was a name she avoided thinking of- not because she hated it, but because sometimes in moments of silent melancholy, when her thoughts were hers alone, it was a name she preferred to her new one. She was almost 180 years old- not the oldest of them, but far from the youngest. The phenomenon that stemmed from the human male before her reminded her of a distant memory, a memory of something that occurred before her time; the memory of a god.

And the memory persisted. It was not a real memory, and not truly hers either. Her core was made up of two souls- hers, and a source, as all Arachnae cores were. And this memory was a remnant of her source's memory, an echo of recollection from the being that formed the base of her mana.

Longevity was fraught with the Burden of Memories. While most memories were easy to forget, some would linger in permanence, etched into souls in a way lasting beyond even lifetimes. Only the queens knew how much the Arachnae truly took from the beings they consumed, and how important the first evolution was to their kind. Much more than likeness was transferred in their evolutions- not just essence or blood or capabilities. Arachnae souls were made of two large parts; their souls would form one half and the soul of one other being would form the other, and infinitesimal pieces of the souls of all others they consumed would be scattered across their soul's surface, less impactful than the first two. Whenever they consumed cores or mana hearts or flesh, they would steal a portion of the consumed being's soul. The amount stolen was lessened with each evolution and would only steal valuable things- like strength or prowess. And eventually, it would need larger and more powerful cores to gain anything of value, like permanent strength or capabilities- even fragmented memories that granted understanding allowing one to pursue and recreate techniques.

The first consumption upon birth was raw and unrefined; it would steal almost all of their initial victim's soul and meld it to their own- and persisted through all evolutions until their deaths. Everything after that was lesser, their patchwork souls would experience less growth with each evolution until eventually, they gained almost nothing at all from their predations unless they consumed something truly powerful. It was a game of diminishing returns, something that was doomed to fail without a powerful evolution that could retain the entirety of a person's being upon consumption- to keep what would add to their power and discard what was without use.

A final evolution.

That was what they chased, their final evolution would not only alter their forms to perfection- but their souls. The Queens wished to create beings that had lived a thousand lifetimes, with the knowledge and mastery of legions trapped in each solitary form.

Past lives were more than theory for arachnae, they were fact.

Fragmented notions and broken feelings at the sight of the twisted skill that erupted from the human left her with more questions than answers. The Hidden Queen had expected to face resistance of some kind in the coming months after the first attack, but not an immediate reprisal at her doorstep. From the memories of her youth, It usually took the humans months or weeks to muster any form of response that warranted her attention.

She could still detect a faint electric charge in the air. It was a buzzing energy of anomaly within the sphere encasing them that resisted and converted any energy it touched. It altered the very nature of existence within the sphere around them and any attempts by the systems mana to impose itself upon them was thwarted as one would thwart a child.

For the briefest of moments, the concept of equality in combat imposed itself upon them. It was an unfamiliar feeling. Their strengths had been forcibly aligned by this unseen power.

The changes in the air continued to sweep through her, altering the nature of magic that existed with her very being. The mana twisted and snapped into pieces that expanded and stretched, and The system snapped free from them both, cast away.

A wave of dread washed over her as she viewed her surroundings. The mana in the air- she could feel it burst and shift, it changed in nature and poured into her. What was he?

She shuddered, an action a human had not forced her to make in over a hundred years, But what she had just witnessed was not an act mortals were supposed to be capable of.

The human had altered reality and the very nature of magic- he had banished the system, and for the briefest of moments, he had banished magic. Her dark eyes shone faintly in realization and remembrance, reflecting not just the ambient luminescence and a lifetime of cunning and swift cruelty. Now they reflected confusion.

And fear.

“What did you do?!” she half roared- half screamed, her nobility momentarily lost and the soft chimes of her cadence long forgotten. This time her voice boomed- a twisted scraping sound. the surrounding Moss-variants collapsed to the ground, their lit forms dimming in the face of her rage.

The light of the chamber dimmed as Alex imbibed another healing potion and charged.

And in the dim light of the chamber, shadows moved in the darkness large and menacing- they shifted.

The Queen attacked.

Soul of Blades - Interlude & Chapter 38: Ichor and Blood / Gilded Throne

John, the town Guard - level ?? BloodBerserker

John had mixed feelings about change. Over the past week or so, he had become intimately familiar with it; change had become his constant companion.

ever since his time spent in the tutorial realm, Everything had changed. many times, in fact. And not only had things changed, but things he hadn't even known could change had rapidly become capable of change. His capabilities changed, his ‘skills’ changed, the town had changed, local beasts changed- twisted by the system- and most noticeably, magic had changed entirely. The town had been turned upside-down by the sudden surge of magic in all of its citizens, and with the introduction of ‘Classes’ and ‘Skills’, every soul had found themselves capable of wielding powers that they had only weeks before thought of as the territory of nobility, or those wealthy enough to afford to study the arcane for decades. Powerful magic was not meant for farmers or bakers, and certainly not town criers. Magic expertise had become the norm for laymen, much more so than it had ever been before. The prospect of a visiting mage or aura Knight no longer sent the town's children into a frenzy. Magic was ubiquitous now, no longer a dream for ambitious youths who struggled to levitate small objects, or practising swordsmen who barely managed to infuse a mage's power into their swings. They had all changed and now had magic of their own. Well, Except for Fred. Fred didn't have shit.

John didn't feel bad for Fred, though. The unassuming town cobbler had somehow evaded magic's notice. And Fred had somehow turned his lack of magic into the most useful of tools.

Fred had a knack for survival.

The town, once a haven from the wilds, found itself besieged by creatures of all kinds, things twisted to become deadlier than ever- some becoming close to creatures of myth and nightmare. These beasts, emboldened by whatever changes had occurred during the system’s introduction, often expanded their territories or migrated after being ousted by stronger altered beasts. They often attacked the town and struck terror into the hearts of the newly empowered townsfolk. Occasionally John's nights had become a cacophony of roars and magical blasts as the townsfolk fought for their lives. Each week had broken with stories of narrow escapes and valiant stands, the town's history rewritten with each battle.

But Fred persisted, unharmed. John didn't think he'd ever seen a monster even try to attack Fred. Perhaps they considered the man too mundane to be worth consuming? John wondered.

Magic altered everything except for Fred, the cobbler. Fred’s life remained as it always was, repairing shoes and boots. As chaos reigned outside, Fred's shop was a haven of normalcy. He had sort of just appeared during the tutorial, an unassuming cobbler from a town no one had ever heard of who had no access to magic or skills- even with the system sweeping over the world and altering magic as they knew it. As far as John knew Fred couldn't do much, aside from mending shoes. But Fred’s mundanity had rendered him hard to notice at times. He was the kind of guy you wouldn't notice walking into a room, the kind of guy you'd find yourself surprised to see even though he had been standing beside you for the last ten minutes in a bright orange suit. The cobbler had an uncanny way of going beneath your notice until he was right up in your face. Was that strange? John questioned. It didn't feel strange.

Why was I thinking about Fred again? John wondered, as he tried to use his skills to channel the power of blood to strengthen himself and pressed into his wounds to stem the bleeding. Oh yeah, I was thinking about ‘change’, wasn't I?

His thoughts returned to the changes that had beset his beloved town in the past fortnite. And then they summarily returned to Fred. Amidst the maelstrom of arcane upheaval, there was the cobbler. While everyone and everything around John had changed, embracing newfound powers and evolution, Fred remained as he always was. Always?… John's thought was interrupted by the discrepancy.  Where was I, John thought once more, as a large dark green wooden splinter the size of his arm crashed into the wall beside him with a shattering crack, a spray of lesser splinter clattering harmlessly across the marble floor he sat upon.

Ah yes, he thought I was thinking about magic, wasn't I… And Fred.

John had visited Fred every few days after his battles defending the town and settlement, always to have his shoes repaired. And Fred had continued his work, attending to his craft with a steadiness that had become rare. Fred's life, unchanged by the magical chaos, made him an anomaly. He hadn't so much as received a bruise during the tutorial realm or their return from it. Neither had he slayed a monster, so far as John was aware.

Even when disappearances became common talk; people vanished without a trace, leaving behind a void of confusion and fear, Fred remained unscathed.

And those tales about system treasures on the other side of town?  The large ‘incursion dungeon’? Yeah, no one who went looking for them came back. All the adventurers and travellers of all levels had failed to return from the dungeon. Except for Fred, he seemed to be the only person capable of traversing these new lands without significant notice or trouble. The rumours of World changing treasure within the dungeon on the other side of town had claimed many victims since their return besides that sole survivor. He claimed there was nothing to see, and that the dungeon had been empty. And yet still others failed to return.

Even during the tutorial, John had wondered what class Fred had, a part of him suspected that Cobbler didn't even have a class… There was something really strange about Fred, wasn't there?

John paused as a system notification alerted him to class-skill choice and without much thought or consideration, John selected his new active skill;  Blood Manipulation. Information, senses, and instincts surged into his memories, implanting him with a beginner-level understanding of how to utilize his new skill. Pain and his flowing blood immediately lessened as he attempted to purify and retrieve his lost blood while stationary on the stone floor.

Where was I? He thought, once more, as he experimented with his new skill by turning a drop of his blood into a sharp glass-like structure.

Ah, yes. I was thinking about the town, he recalled.

At the receipt of a new skill, his thoughts once more returned to that of his beloved town.

In the tutorial realm, their settlement had been a magnet for monsters and saw regular attacks. Huge creatures had come each night, and it had taken all of the townspeople to use their magic to fight them off. Their return to Pyra hadn't changed that reality, it seemed. The system's new world had not given them a break. With every battle, they'd found new damage to repair and sometimes a hero who'd saved them.

And then there was Fred. He just kept fixing shoes.

***

As John walked, sword in hand, through the chamber of a hidden Arachnae Queen, he found himself feeling a little bit like Fred.

He felt ordinary.

Before he awoke in the hive of an Arachnae swarm. John had believed himself special. He believed that everyone was special in their own way- but he had felt as though he had been tapped into the qualities that made him special for as long as he could remember. He was special, had told him and had always considered himself so. The feeling he had felt his whole life had only been enhanced by the change that swept the new world. In the past few weeks his boldness had led him to race ahead to complete multiple quests with high contributions, he had even managed to find a hidden quest! One that he had wisely kept to himself, of course.

He had gained a special class and had special skills. He had defeated special beasts and faced the worst the system had to offer.

But now he stood facing down an unknown hive Queen, hidden deep underground. He found himself standing beside a girl who was apparently the world's first truly human-looking Arachnae- something indistinguishable from humanity that suggested a potential for infiltration that could end life as he knew it.

And finally, to his other side stood a man- Alex- whose strength and skill rivalled the most talented monsters of the tutorial, even appearing to exceed some at moments during his journey through the hive.

Amongst his current peers and enemies, John felt like Fred, mundane in a way that he could only hope would protect him. But he doubted his mundanity would serve him as well as it had served Fred.

John manipulated the surrounding ichor of fallen Arachnae into a rough and unwieldy gauntlet and a thick slab of hardened ichor coated his chest, serving as a bastardized chest plate. That way he wouldn't lose his grip on his sword or die at the first blow- he hoped.

He eyed the monstrosity before him as it exchanged words with the drifter girl, then turned to look at Alex who stood with his sword drawn, staring in another direction entirely.

His torso increased in bulk as layers of vital fluid continued to form in crude blocks over his vitals.

Blood and ichor solidified in malformed layers around him, and John breathed deep, preparing himself for the inevitable conflict.

***

Alex

Alex’s attention was solely focused on the pile of treasure and healing potions that lay beside the Queen. The rough outlines of a plan were beginning to form within his thoughts.

He needed to close the distance between them without initiating a battle. He would need them to get closer, much closer.

“Talk to her,” he said, nudging the girl beside him.

The girl stared intently at the Queen as they approached, and the Queen stared back in turn, some silent battle of wills taking place. Alex saw an imperceptible shift in the air, Like chemical lightning. It was so fast his enhanced mind barely even caught it. But it hadn't escaped his skills, he had seen some strange exchange between the two Arachnae. A combination of his Bestial Senses and Outer Focus skills had caught what looked like a chemical exchange erupting between the two Arachnae at the speed of thought. Was that their Pheromones? He wondered,maybe The Hive-mind skill? He questioned as he observed the Queen grimace in distaste, Or both? Probably both.

“Use your voice, Kid. No hive mind-speak,” The kid's eyes widened slightly in surprise at Alex's perceptive words before she pursed her lips and spoke aloud to the Queen. And with each word she spoke, Alex took a step closer to his true prize; the healing potions.

“Yes!” The girl spoke aloud to the queen, who eyed her sudden change in communication curiously.

"You really believe humans can change?" The Queen's disbelief hung tangibly in the air, her lips barely moving.

The girl stood with a steadfast posture, her feet firmly planted on the mosaic floor, reflecting the room's soft green, golden and bronze light. she replied firmly, "Yes, they can learn, adapt. As we can.”

The Queen laughed, a rumbling chime that shook the air and passed through all present. Alex sensed thick waves of chemical signals bursting from each giggle washing over the surrounding luminous arachnids, their bodies pulsating with each note. It hit the girl too. Her fist clenched tighter with each note, her knuckles whitening as she stood unwavering, stalwart, pressing forward with her unaffected human peers.

Alex paused, eyeing the small sections of throne he could see beneath the Queen's engorged womb. Like the rest of the chamber, it was another display of opulence, with elaborate designs in gold and bronze- a strange selection, yet intricate and alluring. Alex found his gaze irresistibly drawn to the fractal patterns and images, a wonder of foreign artistry and elegance.

Yet still alien.

The Queen leaned back on her throne, an elaborate structure that seemed to merge with her form. Her face displayed amused ease, but her movements, subtle and restrained, betrayed her irritation. "Centuries of war, child. They've never shown mercy to us."

"But we've never offered peace either," the girl countered, stepping closer to the Queen, her bound feet softly tapping against the stone floor. "And what of the things we have done to their villages and their families? There's a different way, I've seen it."

"A different way?" The Queen scoffed. Her voice dripped with scorn, reverberating off the high ceiling, and her fangs caught the light as she spoke. "Centuries of bloodshed at their hands, and you speak of harmony?"

The girl's eyes held a steady, unwavering gaze, reflecting the chamber's bioluminescent light, Her human-like appearance belying the monster within.

“You think you are the first? To dwell with humans? To seek peace?” The Queen's voice remained calm, but for a moment, Alex’s enhanced senses caught her trembling with rage. “They are destroyers!” she continued, her voice growing in volume, “They are worse than beasts. You have not seen our foreign borders, nor the deaths of those who hold the line," the Queen gestured broadly, her arm movements fluid and graceful, her face now contorted with anger.

She snarled, "They started this war!" Her words seemed to reverberate off the gold and bronze, amplifying their intensity.

The girl sighed, her voice calm yet firm. "And we have the power to end it. We've both lost so much."

The Queen's head shook, a slow, deliberate movement, her many eyes squinting in judgment. "The lies. You sound like one of them." a hint of disgust crept into her porcelain features.

“If we were not made as their natural predators we would not have survived. They are lesser in mind but greater in Evil. You will see…” Her voice trailed off.

“Or perhaps you will not” The queen added after the pause, her gaze scrutinizing.

The three, Alex, John, and the girl stepped closer to the Queen. The Queen shifted to receive them, drawing in all eight of her thick tree-like arms to lounge on her throne and support her gargantuan womb, teeming with life. Alex craned his neck to take in her full stature, his eyes scanning the intricate designs of her throne, then he refocused on the treasure. He shifted his sword imperceptibly, the temptation to test his skill and retrieve the potions present. But with the senses these creatures possessed he knew even the slightest move would be detected. He had to be certain of the distance for this to work.

So they moved closer, and the girl spoke once more.

“Let us leave, Queen.” the girl said. “I don’t wish to harm you. I don't want to fight. I simply wish to leave the hive with my humans.”

John looked to Alex with concern at her last statement, his brows creased, He silently mouthing the words “MY HUMANS???” quizzically to Alex, seeking answers. Alex put a finger to his lips in response, signalling what he believed was the universal sign for ‘keep your damn mouth shut’- a sign he hoped translated across worlds.

"So you simply wish to leave, and join the humans." The Queen's voice turned cold, and Alex could almost swear he felt the slightest of drops in the chamber's temperature. "To forsake our heritage, our very nature, on the whims of a newborn?"

The girl's voice was almost pleading. "Not forsake, evolve. We can be more than what history and evolution has made us."

The Queen's posture stiffened, her gaze piercing through the dim light. "You challenge the very core of our existence."

Silence engulfed them.

"I challenge us to grow, to change. Isn't that the essence of what we are?" the girl spoke softly, cutting through the silence of the chamber.

“It’s kill or be killed.” The Queens voice rang like church bells. “And we are unkillable, we have evolved past anything the savages have ever used to harm us. We are the predators and they are our prey.” Alex sensed Queen’s voice sending ripples through the air with each word.

“You think we are this world's monsters?” The Queen laughed, and the chamber rumbled with each delicate chime, the sound resonating off the ornate walls.

“It’s a shame you won’t live long enough to discover the true monstrosity of sentients. You speak of change, as if we need to show them less of what we are.” the Queen chimed, eyeing the girl with an unreadable expression.

"I spoke of showing them we're more than their nightmares." the girl took another step forward, her voice determined.

"Nightmares? No child, we are their doom. They deserve no less. Their fear is our weapon. We should strike, not parley." the queen responded swiftly, and her frontmost eyes- the most human-looking of her set- narrowed. 

“Our path is set and clear to see. We will rule over a world of ashes and bones and build new structures through the smoke. Peace? A fool’s dream. The final evolution is the only truth. Power is the only path.” The Queen's voice, laden with conviction, reverberated through the chamber. As she spoke, her eyes, intense and commanding, locked onto the girl.

"Dreamers are the first to die. Survival is our only concern.” The Queen's stance was formidable as she delivered her declaration. Her presence dominated the room with each word. "Brutality is the language of this world. There is no end to this. There's only evolution.” The Queen plucked a glowing core from the pile of treasure, her movements fluid and deliberate as her fingers delicately grasped it. she dropped it into her open Maw, the fading light reflecting false beauty as it fell “And prey.” She said.

The girl pulled a handful of much smaller cores from a pouch and did the same. “And your plan?” she asked, her voice steady, “To Wipe them out? Every last one? To soak the world in blood?”

"If that’s what it takes. Blood is the price of survival.” The light from another large core in her hand played across her features, intensified by the chamber’s bioluminescence, amplifying the surrounding patterns of gold as bronze. She swallowed it whole before speaking again. “If every sentient must be sacrificed to attain our final evolution then that is no sacrifice.”

“That is a bargain.” The Queen's reply was chilling, her expression unyielding.

John and Alex locked eyes at the monstrosity’s statement, silently communicating a decision to end the false monarch's existence by any means necessary.

“They fear us as we fear them. But I've walked among them, and seen their capacity for kindness. There are other possibilities.” The girl took a step forward, her voice now unsteady- uncertain. “like being more than just the sum of our fear."

The three stepped closer, following the girls' lead. Alex followed in step, his evolved senses strained to detect the slightest hint of attack from the Queen's many limbs.

"Kindness? Possibilities" The Queen's laugh was a bitter rumble. Then the Queen's eyes flashed dangerously. "You think me afraid?"

Two of the Queen's long limbs, previously resting at her sides, gripped the edges of her throne. She squeezed, Sending a shower of stones and minerals spraying before the three. The surrounding luminous arachnae scattered to the corners of the chamber to avoid the hail of stone and metal, submerging Alex and his companions in the dimness of shadows. They were close to her now, less than fifteen feet away and well within range of her gargantuan limbs. Alex looked pointedly beside him to John and caught his eye, and signalled with his lowered sword for John to retreat. Swaying the blade to point behind him and shoving it pointedly backwards several times. He hoped the town guard would understand what was needed of him when the time came. And the time was almost here. Just a few more steps, Alex thought, his every muscle coiled like springs and strained with tensile restraint.

The Queen leaned forward to address the girl one final time as they approached, completely dismissing her accompanying humans.

"I was curious to see how far your evolution had extended the lengths of your cognition, Drifter. That is the only reason why I entertained this farce of a discussion. Do not believe yourself my equal,” the Queen spoke, her voice resonating with authority.

“You talk of peace, child? After centuries of slaughter? Humans will never stand with us,” the Queen's voice rose slightly, the resonance of her words filling the underground chamber. Her eyes, reflecting a depth of centuries, remained locked on the girl, scrutinizing her every reaction.

“But they will KNEEL,” the Queen declared, her voice booming in the chamber. Two arms, massive and formidable like ancient trees, moved beneath her, shifting to cradle a womb the size of a house. The womb squirmed with countless eggs, endlessly shifting. The chamber trembled as her remaining six limbs moved in unison in preparation to attack.

Two more of her limbs extended to land behind them.

A boom sounded from all sides.

The chamber shook as they landed, dust cascading like rain from the ceiling.

It was now or never. Alex made his move.

His new skill, Bestial Senses allowed him a 3-dimensional view of his immediate surroundings- he could see and sense things from multiple sides if he chose to. The only limit to the passive skill was that he had to be close to what he wanted to perceive or he'd risk facing a painful form of sensory overload.

The skill paired well with his milestone skill, which summoned a mana construct under his direct control in any place of his choosing.

Sovereign Executioner, he thought as he drew his sword and held it as one would hold a baseball bat.

Reality rippled as his mana construct appeared standing amidst the treasured cores and healing potions, its large ceremonial sword cocked back in mimicry of Alex’s batters stance.

Alex swung, and a spray of potions flew through the air, most of them headed toward him.

Alex raced forward to retrieve them, expertly moving with precision to touch swords and healing potions as they flew through the air. The moment they made contact with his skin, a flex of his will would store them in his inventory.

The move had netted him six potions.

Seeing her treasures stolen, the Queen screeched in rage.

“RUN!” Alex yelled at John, pointing to the section of the chamber that had been proven to be beyond the twisted queen's range. John nodded and sprinted off, strange hardened blocks of blood and ichor forming on his back with each step. And Alex leapt. The girl followed.

Phoenix Leap. Mana Blade. Sovereign Executioner.

Alex shot towards the Queen's head and swung, the hum of his blade momentarily lighting a portion of the chamber. The long blade of his construct appeared behind her and crashed down with equal force.

And the next thing Alex knew, his world became filled with pain.

He crashed to the ground, struck by a blur he had barely sensed coming. More tree-sized blurs shot past him As he faced the Queen. he sensed her gargantuan limb crashing into John's fleeing form, and practically felt the fluids around John's torso morphing into spikes the instant before the impact, scoring deep wounds across the offending limb. But the impact still connected.

John when flying, a sound akin to smashed glass shooting through the chamber as his defences crumbled and he crashed into the far end of the wall, crumpling into a heap.

Another arachnid limb shot past his prone form, a blur Alex could only just follow through a combination of his high intelligence stat and ‘sense’ skills. It crashed into the girl before she could muster a response, sending her flying to join John, crashing into the far wall and landing in a heap of broken skin, carapace and ichor. She rolled to her stomach, groaning in pain but still alive.

Alex looked up as he lay on the ground and made to rise, belatedly sensing another attack from the Queen.

She was fast. Too fast. Faster than anything he'd ever encountered.

His mind could keep up with her speed, but his body couldn't. He couldn't move fast enough, couldn't react in time, it felt like he was moving through molasses, submerged in a sea of inadequacy while forced to watch his death inch closer.

Sovereign Executioner, he thought, clearly envisioning the space in front of him, positioning the constructed blade in the path of her swing at the speed of thought.

Alex had done the only thing he could; he had used his high intelligence and summoning skill to react at speeds his body could not yet follow. It was not intended to be a defensive skill, but his adaptation had worked.

Her limb crashed into Alex’s construct and veered off course, impacting him slightly but failing to take his life.

Pain blossomed across Alex’s face and the right side of his world went dark. Her blow had ruptured his eye.

The world flashed white in what remained of his vision.

Alex stumbled to his feet, reality spinning with each movement. He accessed his inventory, using his Bestial Senses to summon a potion to appear between his lips. He bit down on its cap and felt its rejuvenating energies mending the torn muscles and tissues in his face. Vision in his right eye refused to return, and his ears still rang from the impact.

He stared up, swaying as he struggled to meet the monstrosity’s gaze.

The Queen's many eyes fixed on Alex, a predator assessing its prey. He felt a chill run down his spine, the primal fear of a hunted animal. Alex fought back against the feeling, crushing it with a force of will and experience.

Soft patters of bound feet on stone sounded a distance behind him. It was the girl, racing to help, but she was too far away to make a difference, and far too slow to be of any help. With the Queen's speed, she may have as well been in another country.

“Human,” the Queen said, addressing Alex. “You have a useful, more permanent core. I'm sure of it.  Offer yourself to me. Give me your mana heart, and I will consider letting the drifter and her human live.” all of her dark eyes stared at him with intent, a constellation in the gloom.

She reached for her swords, one bronze and the other pure gold.

What kind of a deal is that? Alex chuckled and hacked blood, not bothering to respond to the creature. He simply summoned a sword in each hand in turn and muttered three words under his breath.

“Duel of Corruption.”

Soul of Blades - Chapter 36 & 37: Bestial Sense / The Green One

In the system's inky blackness, Alex’s consciousness stood vividly alert. He lost whatever purchase his feet had found in the empty space and began to drift, detached from reality, Here, he was not bound by its rules or limits. Except one; the limit of time. Aside from times March- slowed to a crawl- His mind was his reality, and it was here he faced a crucial choice: the selection of his latest crystal gained skill.

His first option, 'Lesser-Hivemind,' presented itself as a network of thoughts, a web of minds interlinked. Alex envisioned the strategic advantages, the seamless flow of information and tactics between allies. But it would be limited to just one person, either John or the kid- that ‘thing’. Perhaps he could use it to find out her true motives, if she was acting on the Queen's orders. And then what, think them to death? He thought. The skill had no immediate combat uses and relied heavily on others. Aside from the single use of shared thoughts, the skill would be useless against the queen and her soldiers.

But Predation had potential. A lot of potential. It was primal and beckoned to him. He saw himself gaining strength, and vitality from his vanquished foes, a direct path to power that was easily exploitable. But the act of consuming another's flesh for power was a step into a realm where humanity and monstrosity blurred. And if it gave significant stat boosts at higher levels, what was to stop him from tweaking his moral quandaries? What if he needed to take a bite out of someone to survive? What if the stats became permanent? That kind of temptation could topple even the most noble of men. All it would take would be a moment, a single lapse of judgement or bending of his views of the right and wrong things to do, however small, and he would be set down a path of no return, a path that lead to him treating people as mere morsels to be consumed. He found himself wondering if the path was all but guaranteed to strip him of the very essence of his human soul, and his questions led him to a definitive answer. The skill absolutely had the potential to turn a man into the very thing he sought to defeat. Eating monsters and eating people wasn't something he felt was befitting of a swordsman; not only was it pretty evil, but In all honesty… it was kind of gross, too.

Then, there was 'Abyssal Chitin', another tempting skill, but for different reasons. A carapace of armour, a shield against the physical assaults of this unforgiving new world. The shapeshifting elements were pretty damned cool, and the ability to conjure a weapon at will paired well with skills like mana blade and his executioner skill. But technically his inventory already did that, in a way. And then there was the fact that the skill didn’t match Alex’s fighting style; It promised resilience, a chance to become a bastion and bulwark against an onslaught of enemies. But Alex wasn’t a defensive fighter. He could be, but it just wasn't his style. Not to mention the skill was not without its drawbacks – the heavy toll on his mana reserves, the potential sluggishness and vulnerability when the mana waned. It was a fortress, yes, but one that could crumble under sustained assault.

Finally, 'Beastial Senses' emerged from the depths of his mind, a skill that would amplify his perception to superhuman levels. It paired well with his Inner and Outer sense skills and matched his style almost perfectly. He imagined sensing the slightest tremor, the faintest rustle of an enemy's movement, turning the world into his personal theatre with everything easily seen and interpreted. But with this heightened sense came the risk of overwhelming his mind, the barrage of endless information that could distract and confuse him at critical moments.

The skills appeared as distinct pathways, each branching off into uncertain futures. His decision loomed, a defining moment in the inky blackness of the system. But he was out of time, he had to make a decision now. And so he chose.

[Grade F Class Skill: Bestial senses - Arachnae (Passive) selected!]

At the notification's arrival, colour bled into the system's world of darkness, and within a fraction of a second, Alex returned to the world.

But the world to which he had returned was unlike any world he had experienced before. It was a world of new sensations.

He could feel the sounds of the chamber, he could feel the currents of air in the same way one could clearly feel a finger's path tracing along their skin.

He could almost see them.

The subtle shifts of the air on his skin sent a surge of information flooding through his mind. Of The air drifting in his vicinity, its currents, ebbs and flows pushed by the mouth, pores, and movements of all beings close to him.

It painted a static image of his immediate surroundings. Like a subtle hazy picture in Alex's mind's eye. It was Blurry and unclear, but enough to make out important details; the movements and general figures of all present. With this, he could sense any attacks or projectiles even while blindfolded.

He leaned into the sensation, his head tilting imperceptibly forward.

A crackling series of clinking sounds from the Queen's porcelain joints sent pulses through the chamber, waves of sound that cleared the fuzzy image in Alex’s mind. The rings of sound waves shot from one end of the chamber to the other, turning soft lines clear and hard as each wave of sound washed over him, adding small details like the slight twitch of John's fingers beside him, the fact that John wore three rings beneath his gauntleted hand, the blood-stained scar on his back beneath his clothes. See the form of a human girl beneath the webbing of the kid to his right and outside of his field of visual view.

Then the rest of his new senses crashed into him in a wave of overloading sensations.

The queen's grasping hands had stopped about 15 metres away from them, the chamber was oblong, and they were all on the far end, out of her reach apparently, the Queen made to move closer and the chamber rumbled further, then she stopped and looked to her soldiers, who at her mere glance, began to approach Alex and his companions as though they had garnered her full intent from a single glance.

The soldiers moved with slow and sure steps, confident in the knowledge that the only path that could allow humans to escape would be a path that led directly to their many blades.

Each step sent waves of information through Alex, an overload. For a moment the overload of information was blinding, his enhanced intelligence stat allowed him to process information at speeds a baseline human could only mimic with tools, but the sensations remained foreign and disorientating. He simply wasn’t used to being able to see so much, so suddenly. He struggled to parse the information until the systems instincts guided him- giving him the sense of the possibility of sorting the overload, allowing him to choose what he wanted to focus on. He has the subtle feeling that if he wished, he could subconsciously choose the level of his focus and grant himself only a 360-degree, 3-dimensional image of his close surroundings, and not that of the entire chamber or the many chemicals, sound waves, and vibrations it held. It felt like holding a conversation while ignoring the freeway behind you. This’ll take some getting used to, he thought with a tightening grip on his sword.

He focused, chasing the sensations of his new Instincts, allowing only the smallest parts of information around his immediate vicinity to seep into focus. as a result, chemical reactions in the air around him washed over everything in his vision, and a few things outside of it. It sent vibrations through substrate that turned everything immediately around him in a 360-degree radius into a view as clear as if he was staring at it all from above. And below. And from the front, too. Vibrations from the floor beneath his feet and the wall behind his back rocked through him, and Alex found himself picking up the most minute of details, things outside his field of vision and things the naked eye could never perceive. He saw the bead of sweat trickling down John's brow to his left and a little behind him… saw the contours of the girl's facial features beneath her webbing, how small pores all over the surface of her skin released waves of chemicals into the air, almost identical to the waves released by the gargantuan looming palm of the queen some metres away. Yep, she's definitely one of them. Alex was almost sure of it now. He could clearly see the form of a human girl beneath the webbing of the kid, despite her standing to his right and outside of his field of view. Alex frowned at what he saw. it was like he was seeing her for the first time, beneath all the frayed layers of ‘prey’ webbing that covered her.

She looked almost exactly like his sister, but different.

The sight of her features conjured buried memories in the recesses of Alex’s mind. He had seen those features before, as a child. Blended in with the features of his younger sister were small hints of his mother's features, too. Alex reeled in shock, his mouth Ajar.

Why does she look like my sister? He knew it couldn’t be her, she had nothing of his sister's personality. Her mannerisms, speech and behaviour were that of a complete stranger.

Another step from the soldiers sent a wave of information crashing through Alex, and this time, rather than treating it as background noise, he chose to accept it all, focusing on the details of his ‘companion’.

He could thin lines patterned across her human-like form, so thin the naked eye would never be able to detect them, arrayed across her otherwise mundane appearance in fractal and insectile patterns. Another vibration rocked through the chamber, as the soldiers marched in unison, and then Alex sensed- no - saw beneath her surface.

She was an arachnae, with dense muscle packed beneath her form. Myriad limbs fused together in each arm and leg, compressed and fit to burst with power. She was dangerous.

Should he kill her? The thought came to him unbidden and unwelcome, but still, he found himself considering it.

Should I kill her? He asked himself, weighing his options. They needed her to fight the soldiers and the queen, but trusting one of them with his life would be the height of stupidity. She could be working with the queen, a sleeper agent, of sorts. He would expect a betrayal at any moment, and would never be able to rest. Her existence also puts John in danger. There’s the possibility that she’s a drifter, that worker called her before, didn’t he? Alex’s eyes widened in realisation. The clues were all there, but he’d been initially blinded by his filial instincts and some semblance of a saviour complex his system granted power had caused him to develop. Then he’d been further blinded by her human appearance to his previously mundane senses. But now it was clear as day, she was a drifter, some strange form of arachnae that mimicked a human perfectly, but she was still one of them- still a monster that kidnapped and ate people.

And she had saved his life.

Alex didn’t know what to think, but he did know that he had to deal with this here and now. But that could be an act to gain his trust, but she had killed plenty of her kind to get here. But she had still attempted to deceive him the entire journey, from the moment he’d come to. He didn’t trust her, he wouldn’t allow himself to- the facts overrode any reasoning; she was one of them, and despite her freedom as a drifter, she had lied to him. She had helped and saved him, sure. They had even developed something resembling camaraderie, the type of familiarity that could lead you to forget to ask for someone’s name as if some part of you already knew it. That was the only reason why he found himself struggling to end her, that and her usefulness in the fight to come. She had already helped countless times in their escape. But why go to all that trouble? He thought, still assessing her. And why does she look like my sister? The question kept finding its way to the forefront of his mind.

Alex raised his sword to the girl's throat. “Who are you?” He asked.

John’s head turned at Alex’s swift gesture, surprise etched on his pale brow. “Hey,” he hissed, “what are you doing!? They’re coming! Leave her alone!” His sword was still pointed towards the slow march of the soldiers.

Alex ignored him, pressing his blade closer to the girl's throat. She looked confused beneath her coverings and a little hurt. But she didn’t look threatened.

“What are you?” Alex asked, this time an edge of threat seeped into his voice unbidden. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

“WHAT?” John's sword faltered at Alex’s question, he scrambled away from the girl as one would from a lake of fire. He switched his sword from pointing to approaching soldiers to pointing at the girl, then to the soldiers, and back to the girl once more. He repeated this gesture in frantic intervals, confusion marring his face with each movement. “Take the webbing off your face, let us see your skin. prove him wrong.” John said, his sword growing steadier with each word, he switched back to the soldiers, eyeing their approach, then back to the girl.

The girl raised her sword and expertly parted the webbing covering her features, but Alex noted the imperceptible shift of the webbing that moved with a life of its own. She had two human eyes, brown and perfectly normal in appearance. But Alex could see ten more closed eyes through his sixth, and seventh senses. They were arrayed around her forehead and temples like nebula, closed by imperceptible seams.

“She’s human.” He said, “Look at her. I already thought so from the little I’d seen. But they don’t have human skin.” John sagged in relief and turned to face the soldiers. “At best they’re like the queen with hard surfaces that are passable from a distance.”

“I didn’t want to do this so soon.” The girl sighed in response and opened her eyes. All of them. Eight pitch-black eyes came into being across her unblemished features and John sucked in a breath. “I’m on your side,” She said, “ I didn’t think you were ready to see. I-“

“Why did you follow us? Did you lead us here?” Alex interjected. Perhaps he should’ve played along, expecting her inevitable betrayal and turning it on her at the last moment. It's what he would have done if she had bore any other appearance.

But seeing the forms of people he thought he would never see again had stirred something in him. He knew she wasn't his sister- they were alike in appearance and nothing else. But a small part of him hoped for something, some sign that she was more than an imposter. It was foolish, he knew. To his enhanced senses, it was clear as day that she wasn't family. But the sight of something he'd thought was lost forever still brought him comfort. But that was a fleeting comfort riddled with danger. He would have to prepare for any attack from her- focus on her while even in battle. With his new senses, he would be able to react to surprises or betrayals from all angles. She would not be able to harm him.

Unless she attacked while he was fighting the queen. He wouldn't allow things to come to that. Sword still pressed at her throat, he asked of the detail that had been bothering him the most, “Why do you look like people I know?” he left it vague and non-specific to give her room to inadvertently slip the extent of her knowledge.

She raised her hands in surrender, her expression forlorn and hurt, “I didn’t lead you here, I didn’t even know where ‘here’ was until we were closer.” her sword was held loose between her fingers, without intent or hostility as she continued. “I'm not a part of them and I just wanted to find a way out, like you. All this time I've only cared for helping us survive and make it out of here. I swear, I'm on your side.” She said, her words seeped in earnestness, her two human eyes pleading with Alex’s.

Alex focused as she spoke, sensing the steady pulse of her heartbeat, and the layered organ he guessed was her lungs did not seem to move erratically as she pleaded. He had heard that tremors in heart rates and breathing signified lying, but he was far from an expert. He was a martial artist, not a walking polygraph- the information did not mean much to him.

The girl continued. “And as for the rest…I… I can explain… But now isn’t the time, they're here.”

She pointed a raised hand at the soldiers who were now close to an arm's length away.

Three of the soldiers had arrived with unified steps, eerily synchronized, each reaching for the closest human. The green one marched a few steps behind as if leading the small regiment.

A soldier reached out intent on dragging Alex into the queen's range. It dismissed his weapon and prowess in the way it dismissed all of the humans it had encountered in its short life; as negligible and inferior. Alex’s arm extended, his blade moving to make the creature regret its lack of care.

Alex swung. Mana Blade, he thought at the very instant the blades touched.

The blade, charged with blue energy, sliced through the soldier's reaching arm and countering blade. It hummed as it cut through the air, aiming for the soldier's neck. It connected, sending a spray of dark ichor splattering against the cold stone wall. He had caught it unawares, and the thing had never imagined his blade to be capable of such damage.

The soldier's head, severed, fell to the ground with a thud, its body collapsing moments later.

[You have defeated, Level 36 Arachnae Soldier]

Alex heard a cry sound through the chamber, and the waves of its vibrations painted a picture that caused his heart to pulse with concern.

John, several feet away, was visibly struggling. An arachnae soldier, towering over him, lunged with a swift strike. It's six arms struck independently, three aiming high, three low. John raised his broadsword in a shaky defence, attempting to intercept the lower arms. His blade connected with one swing, and the force of the blow caused him to stumble. his back crashed into the wall behind them as he successfully deflected the blow. He grinned in triumph, but the triumph was short-lived. The soldier he faced had many more swords. Two of its blades slashed down, cutting deep into John's thigh and side. Blood soaked his clothing, turning the dark fabric of his uniform a deeper shade. John roared in defiance, His broadsword, heavy and slick with his blood, was swung in a desperate arc. The soldier's other blade bypassed John's defiant swipe of retaliation, slicing across his left shoulder. Blood spurted from the wound, staining his armour. John staggered back, grimacing in pain, his face contorted in a mix of fear, agony, and rage. John screamed in pain and swung, his sword seemingly too short to reach his opponent. His blood changed that. It crystallizes at the last instant, extending into something akin to a spear, shearing towards the creature's legs in an instant.

The creature leapt over the blow, the spear of hardened blood only grazing its hide. But to a weak Constitution, a graze was enough. A rain of small slithers of cracked chitin scattered across the chamber’s floor as the creature landed. A small section of carapace on the surface of its leg held a fracture. It Screeched with a rage that on the surface appeared to rival John's own.

Alex turned sharply. He saw John stumbling, trying to maintain his balance as his foe prepared for a killing blow. Phoenix Leap, he thought. Alex leapt towards John, landing beside him, boots sliding across the stone floor. As he swung his blade. The soldier had sensed him coming and further sensed an opportunity. It lunged at them both with its many arms swinging in arrayed angles.

With his new senses, Alex found the myriad blades far less intimidating. He felt calm, composed even. He knew that if he tilted his head just right, and splayed his arm at just the right angle, he could time his counterattack to sweep through the gaps in the soldier's attack to use its own momentum against it. Boundless Dodge, Alex thought.

His skill shot him forward and his blade sang.

Two arms clattered to the ground, blades set free from dead fingers as Alex’s swing carved through a portion of the creature's attack. It screeched as it staggered back in surprise, an arm from each side missing. It then reoriented itself and changed strategy, focusing all of its efforts on harrying John, using his prone form as a hostage and forcing Alex to be on the defensive.

Alex had fought countless battles, so many he didn't know the exact number- he guessed it was somewhere in the hundreds, possibly the thousands.

He had fought to defend others before, but he had never experienced fighting solely to defend a single person incapable of defending themselves. To act as a human shield with a blade was alien to him. He was struggling, and the creature knew it, so it intensified its efforts.

John, leaning against the wall, attempted to stem the bleeding from his wounds. His face was pale, his breathing ragged. He looked up at Alex, his eyes conveying a mix of fear and determination. “Just let me die.” he called out, “I'll fight it, you go on without me.”

Alex wouldn't hear or accept it, he simply parried and blocked, leapt and swung, keeping the soldier at bay.

Boundless Dodge. Phoenix leap. He had been saving his more versatile skills to use on the Queen or the green one. but he was inching closer to deciding to use them to keep John alive.

A clash sounded beside him from the sounds of another battle.

The girl had been assaulting her opponent with wild and reckless swings. Her technique was Non-existent, but her movements were explosive, with speed that lagged only slightly behind Alex. Her every strike was a display of her monstrous strength, a force that even the arachnae soldier seemed wary of. She ducked beneath a many-armed swing and held a blade in each hand, swinging with both as she rose. Two blades locked with six as she met the soldier's blow. They struggled against each other for a moment before the soldier began to falter, her strength proving superior. Her leg lashed out in a blur, a kick that crashed through chitin and removed both of the soldier's legs. It crumpled to the ground, its swords scattered. The girl moved, going for the final strike. aiming for its head with her sword raised high she swung. The soldier, its movements hampered by the injury, couldn't react in time. Her blade came down, crashing into the soldier's skull.

Before it could collapse, lifeless, at her feet, she turned and sprinted towards Alex and John, two of her powerful steps closing the distance. She crashed into the Arachnae soldier as it attempted to evade, both of her feet crushing its thorax, soon her blades followed, until nothing but a lifeless mess of broken chitin remained.

[You have defeated, Level 39 Arachnae Soldier]

She crushed it under her foot, its shell splattering with a crunch. Alex could only scratch his head in apprehension and a mix of emotions at her swift action. "Thanks, kid," he muttered, almost out of habit.

She beamed at his words, then turned to face the green one.

What’s her deal? Alex felt both curiosity and apprehension, but now wasn't the time.

The green soldier, having observed Alex's skill, approached him with a calculated strategy, ignoring the others completely. It mirrored his trajectory, advancing with a fluid grace that was unsettling- in contrast to its previously jerky movements. What's its level? Alex wondered.

If its level was higher than his, he would need to recalculate his strategy.

The green soldier moved, its arms growing a layer of bark-like carapace that turned its form bulky and stalwart. Its ghostly light caught the three’s attention, and they stared at its approach, their expressions a mix of wariness and resolve, and Alex's of determination as he stepped forward to meet it.

A Phoenix Leap sent him rocketing forward, and a boundless Dodge sent him sliding beneath a thick root that shot from the gaps between the things armour like twisted webbing. Another application of his skill sent him hurtling over another wave of sharp vines, heading towards the luminous soldier. A combination of outer sense and bestial sense had allowed him to see its attacks coming- he doubted he even needed the skill to evade it but he was still wary of its venom and unsure if any evolution it experienced had caused it to become more potent or dissapear interly. His senses were picking up something strange about the green one. He wasn't taking any chances.

He landed with a forceful thud, the ground beneath him cracking from the impact and swung in the same instant, intent on removing its head with a single blow. It swung all six of its blades to defend.

The impact was brutal.

Alex staggered as the creature's strike landed, the stone beneath him cracking from the sheer force. A force that nearly toppled him. Reacting instinctively, he pivoted sharply, his heel grinding against the stone floor. As he turned, the spectral figure of the Sovereign Executioner materialized behind the soldier, mirroring his motion. Simultaneously, Alex activated Phoenix Leap, propelling himself forward with explosive speed. His Mana Blade, enveloped in a vibrant blue aura, sliced through the air, its unblockable edge aimed directly at the soldier's vulnerable point. He crashed into the green one from both sides.

Alex's blade cut through one of its arms, severing it cleanly. The arm fell to the ground, still clutching its blade.

The green soldier, now with five arms, showed no sign of retreat. It hissed, a chilling sound that resonated in the chamber.

And It erupted into a spray of vines.

Its plant-like arms extended, vines shooting out towards Alex. As they carved through the air, their tips, sharp as blades, etched deep grooves into the stone, sending chips flying. They snaked through the air, aiming to ensnare Alex like a spider's web capturing its prey. Reacting instinctively, Alex's blade moved in practised arcs, a blur of motion that sliced through the approaching vines. His swift cuts sent pieces of vines falling to the floor, Yet, undeterred, new vines sprouted rapidly, surging forward, unyielding in their pursuit. each new wave attempted to ensnare him, their assault as persistent as the relentless advance of a hunting spider.

And the green one in the center of the web of bark remained, its arms moved faster, a whirlwind of green blades that Alex found himself struggling to counter.

Until the girl joined the fray.

She attacked with raw, untamed ferocity.

Her movements, though lacking the refined grace of a trained warrior, were imbued with an explosive power. As she struck, her blade whistled through the air, its path erratic but forceful. As the duo breached the wall of writhing vines, her sword met not flesh but wood, The green one dodged her assault with a swift sidestep, the manoeuvre leaving behind a cloud of splinters. These fragments, in turn, became the creature's weapons, coalescing into tendrils that lunged towards her, even as its many eyes remained locked onto her, unblinking and calculating, its multiple eyes tracking her every move

And in its moment of distraction, Alex struck. Phoenix Leap, he thought, Propelling himself off the ground. He became a blur, moving at a speed that was almost disorienting. He reappeared behind the soldier, his blade coming down in a swift, decisive strike aimed at the creature's back.

Alex shifted his weight to his left foot, a subtle movement but one that allowed him to pivot away from an incoming strike. His blade arced through the air, leaving a trail of Mana Blade’s blue energy. It met the soldier's weapon, the sound of sliced metal echoing in the chamber as the blade cut through without resistance.

The green soldier extended an arm, and light flashed as roots shot forth from its armour to retrieve another. It lashed out with its remaining blades and vines, creating a deadly pattern of steel and wood that forced Alex to create some distance lest he be skewered. Alex, his inhuman senses tracking every motion, instinctively leapt back. His boots skidded on the stone floor, sending small pebbles and cut bark scattering. He narrowly dodged a vine that whizzed past, leaving a shallow cut on his cheek, the sting of which was immediate and sharp. He sliced off a portion of his cheek without hesitation, deeming it better to be scarred than envenomed. The air around him was sliced by the passing blades and vines, creating a symphony of whooshes that underscored the peril of his situation.

The girl remained trapped in the storm of vines, frantically dodging in an attempt to retreat.

“Use your other arms!” Alex yelled through the onslaught of vines. “I know you have them!” he summoned a Sovereign Executioner with a thought as he swung, and the long ceremonial blade of his construct cleaved through a section of the assaulting vines in tandem with his movements.

“No!” the girl yelled back as she thought against the vines assaulting her.“I- I can't!” she yelled once more, twisting her body in a pirouette to evade a spray of stabbing roots. “I won't,” she whispered.

John, watching from the sidelines, tried to rise, but his injuries were too severe. He slumped back against the wall, his broadsword clattering to the floor. His eyes remained fixed on the battle, a silent observer of the unfolding carnage.

Alex gripped his sword tight determined. It was time to end this, vines or no. His mana blade shone as a blend of Phoenix leaps and Boundless dodges sent him rocketing through vines intent on skewering him- straight towards the vulnerable creature in the centre.

Alex's boots scraped against the stone as he pivoted, the gritty texture resonating up his legs. Gripping the Mana Blade, he felt its pulsating energy seep into his palm, sending a tingling sensation up his arm. He lunged, his blade slicing the air with a hiss, then striking the soldier's lower left arm with a resounding snap of chitin. The soldier staggered back, its arm hanging limply, a spray of green ichor shot forth from where it was cut, splattering the floor beneath its feet with a mosaic of softly lit blood. In response, wood sprouted rapidly from the wound, morphing into a glowing, bark-covered limb, radiating a sinister, pale light.

In that instant the ichor breath its feet burst into glowing crystalline spikes that sheared through its legs, locking it in place. In the distance, John wiped blood from his brow and stumbled to his feet, the blood from his injuries strengthening him.

“CUR!” it roared in rage, breaking the silence of the chamber.

The girl's eyes widened at the site of its lost composure- a vulnerability. With a burst of speed, she lunged forward, her muscles tensing as she thrust her sword towards the creature's underbelly. The blade connected with a sharp, audible crack, breaking through the chitin. The green soldier stumbled backwards from the force, its armoured plates splintering, and a guttural hiss escaped from its mandibles, its vibrations ringing through the chamber.

Phoenix leap. Boundless Dodge. Sovereign Executioner. Mana Blade. Sovereign executioner. Alex was a blur of movement. He dodged vines by a hairs breath, but with his enhanced senses, and the soldier's weakening form, they might as well have been miles away. Each movement brought him closer, each swing of his blade coupled with the swing of his executioner skills mana construct, crushed the endless vines that sprung forth from the green one. And the girl followed close beside him, hacking and slashing and tearing away sharp roots to deal damage to the creature at the center.

Together they hacked apart the green monstrosity.

[You have defeated, Level 46 Arachnae Soldier]

[Level 37 > Level 38]

[Strength +4, Dexterity+4, intelligence+6, unassigned stats +4]

In the midst of the fray, the Queen watched, her presence ominous yet passive. Her smile grew with each of her soldiers slain, whether in entertainment of the kill or excitement at the strength of her captives, Alex wasn't sure. He suspected it was probably both.

“I levelled.” John muttered, rising to his feet, “a lot,” he added as his blood-hardening into glistening constructs that stemmed his bleeding. He swayed as he stood, and almost stumbled. But he persisted and headed forward, each step becoming surer, gaining a strange form of second wind and Joining them in heading to end the Queen.

The porcelain Queen Perked up as she observed the strong human and drifter approaching her. “Oh? Are you done?” she said, as they entered her range, her wide smile tinted with hunger. “COME CLOSER.”

"We can't fight her," John whispered, his face pale and voice trembling.

“We don’t have a choice” The girl spoke with finality, clumsily raising her sword in mimicry of Alex’s stance. Alex eyed her warily with his many senses as he faced the queen.

For now, the girl appeared to be opposed to the queen, and her strength was potentially a part of their ticket out of there.

But at some point, and likely some point soon, he would have to turn his blade to face her, too.

Vote results

Votes are in! Bestial senses it is.

Two chapters coming tomorrow guys, and possibly another two on Monday to end this arc.

Soul of Blades - Skill Poll

**Edit**: Votes are in! Bestial sensed it is.

Two chapters coming tomorrow guys, and possibly another two on Monday to end this arc.

Which skill do you think Alex should choose?

The options were: 

• [Lesser-Hivemind (Passive): Grant mutual mental cognition and communication between yourself and accepting beings of your choosing. The number of hive mind members will be limited to skill mastery. Current mastery: 0% - 1 member]
• [Beastial Senses - Arachnae (Passive): become highly attuned and sensitive to vibrations transmitted through surfaces such as the ground, plants, or the walls. detect air currents and vibrations and sound waves, chemical signals in your environment, and gain a detailed, almost three-dimensional view of your surroundings that transcends several mundane materials and limitations]
• [Predation (Active - 5 minutes): consume the flesh of your enemies to gain temporary stay boosts, by consuming the the flesh of living foes gain a chance at temporary stat gain. Consuming the hearts of living foes will guarantee temporary time-limited boosts to your stats. Stronger foes will yield better and more guaranteed results. High mastery will yield better and more guaranteed results. at mid to lower mastery, the consumption of beast cores will result in mana overload and subsequent death]
• [Abyssal Chitin - Arachnae (Active - 5 minutes): consume a large portion of mana to transmute your skin into a layer of dense Chitin. This skill grants the ability to alter your exoskeleton at will, morphing your body's surface shape into different forms. Lower levels of mastery will produce limited shapes, Higher levels of mastery can range from growing exoskeletal constructs to sprouting additional limbs for added defense or offense.]

Soul of Blades - interlude & Chapter 35: The Hidden Queens / Four Options III

Authors note: I'm getting into the habit of writing two chapters in one go. So the posts are ending up much chunkier than usual. Anyways, Enjoy!

The hidden queen

Perched above her immense, transparent womb filled with unborn Spiderlings, the hidden Queen shifted in surprise.

She sensed the minds of the soldiers outside her chamber instantly fade into nothingness. Snuffed out in a blink. Had they killed each other during the rite? She wondered. How pitiful.

Shock engulfed her further as the door to her chamber opened, and an arachnae mind she had not yet sensed entered her chamber. How had she not sensed this one? She could feel every mind in her swarm, every birth and death if she wished, and this one had somehow remained unnoticed until now, but how?

It must be an evolution, she concluded. She studied the strange arachnae's form, yes, definitely a new evolution, she concluded. The queen relaxed and sagged into her throne as she saw two humans enter the chamber along with it. She had requested more humans, she remembered.

They must have been the humans she had commanded her brood to bring. A small batch, only two, but they looked fit and healthy. More delicacies for her unending appetite. Very good, she hoped their cores- mana hearts, as the system called them- would enhance her speed even further.

A swift predator herself, she was obsessed with breeding offspring that epitomized speed and agility. Silently, she admired the traits of races known for their agility, and in her relentless pursuit she had targeted races known for their agility, seeking to claim those qualities for her swarm. She firmly believed that in the art of war, speed and agility were paramount, and in her mind's eye, she saw her brood excelling in speed. Or ‘Dexterity’, as the system called it. Its application had furthered her desires by leagues, painting a clear path to her swarm: her legacy would be a lineage of unmatched swiftness and agility, dominating their realm with precision and speed. She and her brood would become demigods of swiftness- of dexterity.

In the grand, opulent underground throne room, the hidden Queen sat still. She observed Alex and his two companions, the unnamed girl and John, who had just entered her chamber. The door behind them blended seamlessly into the surrounding stone as it shut closed, leaving them enclosed in her domain.

She studied the two humans for a moment, dismissing them as mere food, and then studied the evolved arachnae that accompanied them.

She had never seen such an evolution before, it reminded her of one of her sister-queens, but smaller. Much smaller.

It was a strange evolution, to be sure. The sight touched upon her singular obsession: breeding offspring unparalleled in speed and agility. In her relentless pursuit, she had meticulously selected traits from races known for their agility, crafting her brood into the epitome of predatory swiftness before they were even born. Humans were a necessary first meal for her young to gain some semblance of sentience. A good start.

The evolved Arachne that accompanied the humans- strangely pristine and conscious humans, the queen noted- had experienced an evolution that had caused all eight of her legs to fuse and intertwine into two powerfully thick limbs, like her soldiers. Except, her arms had fused too- four arms becoming two powerful ones- condensed in a way that hid their true capabilities. The hidden Queen suspected that this young one could most likely display powerful bursts of speed while using the limbs as equally powerful weapons. But the thin, almost invisible seams on the surface of the girl's legs and arms suggested the possibility that two legs could become eight once more. Perhaps it was a skill?

And the wrappings that covered a majority of the young arachnae female’s form and features were strange.

The queen could sense her surroundings in myriad ways, as all arachnae could. She could sense vibrations through substrate, feel the subtle shifts of the currents in the air through the microscopic hairs that covered every inch of her form, detect chemical signals in the environment through specialised organs, and he many legs could feel the texture, shape, and vibrations of her chamber.

The young arachnid girl’s wrappings meant nothing to the queen, she could see the girl as if she had no coverings at all, as all arachnae could. So why did the girl cover herself? Small sections of her form could be seen beneath frayed webbing, and each resembled a human's skin identically, with seams and hidden layers of carapace only an arachnae’s acute senses could detect.

It must be because of her form that so resembles a human- she must be ashamed, the queen reasoned.

But it was a good evolution. A powerful one that made her as strong as any soldier, it should be a point of pride.

“Congratulations on your evolution.” The queen called without words. “I see you have brought the humans I requested.”, her gargantuan mind sounded like thunder through the Hivemind’s thought-space. The young Arachnae flinched at the message but did not falter. She straightened her back unperturbed, and the spark of her mind blazed brighter at the queen's thought-message. To the queen, it looked like a sputtering flame; brighter than most others within her hive, with strange colours and contours- but not brighter by much.

“The humans. Bring them closer.” She called out once more.

“No, they’re mine.” The young one replied with tightening fists, at the last word her thought-voice shook the mindspace subtly as a Queen’s would. Was that a Queen’s order? The hidden queen wondered. Strange, lesser arachnae were not capable of giving orders. Whatever it was, it was a pitiful imitation.

Time stood frozen as they communicated at the speed of electric synapses; the speed of enhanced thought. None moved through the stalemate, the soldiers observed, vibrating with imperceptible rage, and the luminous moss arachnae cowered in fear, unable to disobey the queen's orders and flee as they truly wished to.

“Oh?… No?” The queen laughed, and a sound like chiming bells and chittering hordes washed over the minds of all present. “They’re ‘yours’? Are you an evolved drifter? That is new, and new is good.” The ground shook as the queen shifted to gaze at them with her many eyes. “Everything here is mine, drifter.” Her thought-message blazed. “Everything in this land, including your body and your humans.”

She pointed a large finger towards the group and spoke with thoughts “Your evolution will be tested, studied, and recreated before you are disposed of. Your humans will become a feast. Your achievements will strengthen the hive, you should be proud. Bring the humans closer. That one looks strong.” The queen's head tilted to focus on Alex’s frozen form. 

“Fine, I will bring them myself.” She released a mental sigh that felt like a cool breeze running through the minds of those near, then she began to reach towards Alex, John, and the girl, her gargantuan porcelain joints clicking as they stretched across the chamber.

***

Alex

As soon as Alex realized his surroundings. His attention flashed in all directions, soaking in information and assessing his options.

The queen was stationary on a throne of opulence, webbing, metals, and treasures, and she was large, nestled with a transparent womb filled with countless tiny cores of unborn Spiderlings. The top half of her body appeared like a porcelain doll with beautiful, near-perfect features, save for the twelve eyes arrayed around her forehead like constellations, and the dark, thin lines that patterned across her form, detailing the segments of deceptive carapace that shone reflectively in the light of the chamber. She had eight long, thick, spindly, and hairy limbs, each able to stretch the width of the cavern. The womb was many times larger than she was and seemed to root her to her throne as a trunk would root a tree. He mentally sighed in relief at the sight. She did not seem like an immediate threat, but the length of her large limbs caused him to pause. He shifted imperceptibly, his back touching the wall, and his grip on his blade tightened until his knuckles turned white. The words ‘Mana Blade’ were on the tip of his tongue- if she made a move he wouldn’t take any chances.

If she made a move he’d make the monstrous thing regret it.

For a second, the queen seemed content to just stare at him and his group, for some reason. All three held their breath in anticipation, none of them wanted to break the stalemate and initiate hell. Even Alex found himself hesitating at the prospect.

So she’s just going to watch us? He thought, still surveying the contours of the room to find an escape route. Ok, he thought, so the way out has to be through one of those hallways, we just have to kill the soldiers and the queen bolt before their evolution ritual ends. He doubted his companion's ability to survive the encounter, it made him hesitant to act. He knew that the moment he acted, the two of them would most likely die.

But at some point, he would have to. How do I guarantee their survival? The question rattled his thoughts as he desperately searched for an answer amid the stalemate.

His eyes flicked to the queen's body and finally noticed her swords. She had two weapons close to her body- a sword of pure gold and a sword of smithed bronze, both blazing with mana. They looked somewhat dangerous to Alex’s Outer Vision, but he was pleased to see that the queen had not reached for them. They lay on the ground beside her womb, ignored as she swallowed beast cores and studied him in turn. She reached towards a metal pile beside her and retrieved a core of mana, consuming it with relish.

Arachne soldiers stood guard around her, three m in total, as silent monstrous knights, myriad swords sheathed. We’ll have to deal with them, first, Alex decided. I'll take two, and John and the kid will have to take out the other one, somehow. The prospects for his companion's survival looked grim, but they would have to make it work, somehow.

The chamber lit further as dozens of seemingly harmless luminous Moss Arachnae entered and left with each breath, each lighting paths to execute unknown tasks required of them.

An Arachnae soldier entered the chamber through one of its many pathways, accompanied by a congregation of glowing Moss variants, but this soldier was different from the rest. Its chitin armour held a deep green hue, and light seemed to emanate from between the gaps in its carapaced helm and torso- a contained luminance. Antenna crowned its head with twists and splits, forming something akin to antlers. It joined the other Arachnae soldiers and stood at ease, Silent with their nightly forms. Its movements appeared rigid and forced.

That one’s clearly evolved, but how dangerous can a stringy Moss variant really be? Alex decided he would target it first with swiftness- to remove any unpredictable elements. But now there were four soldiers present for them to face, alongside the Queen. The quest had claimed she would be defenceless, is this what the system considered defenceless? Alex's gut sank further. So I'll take two, and John and the kid will have to face two? The probability of his companion's survival had just dipped further

There had been humans present also, but they had seemed incoherent and barely cognizant. They had stood and sat as if in a daze, and had barely begun to protest until they belatedly realised Queen's grasping palms had engulfed them. Some of them hadn't even screamed as they'd been consumed. They were under the influence of some lesser form of venom, and the mouth and fangs of all Arachnae present would have to be avoided like a plague, Alex decided in an instant.

There was a pile in one corner of the room, slightly to the right of the Queen. Alexis' eyes widened as he realized it was items taken from the town: swords, armour, and a pile of metals of all colours, interspersed with glowing cores and tiny red gems that sparkled like fireflies, reflecting the light of the chamber.

A gasp escaped Alexis' lips as he realized he was looking at about 20 healing potions, nestled beside the Queen. He swallowed hard.

That was it. That was how all three of them could survive the encounter. He would have to make it to the potions.

A rumble shook the chamber.

Alex was pulled from his concerns by the sight of the queen's large hand raised. She pointed a finger towards his group and spoke with a delicate voice that croaked as if barely used.

Still, her words swept across the chamber, and all the arachnid beings present shifted in discomfort at her command. It was as if her voice affected them in some unseen way, the sound of her words appeared uncomfortable to the surrounding Arachnae in a way that Alex couldn't fathom. Alex noted the girl beside him had subtly shifted with discomfort too, in perfect sync with the surrounding Arachnae.

Shit. He thought, she’s one of them, isn’t she?

“Come, humans,” the queen's voice bounced through the walls of a chamber as a church organ would, demanding obedience. As she spoke she stretched a carapaced limb, thick as a tree heading in their direction. The limb reached for them, grasping, fingers as thick as men, splayed “GREET ME,” she said.

***

At the sight of titanic fingers reaching toward him, Alex immediately crushed the dark crystal in his palm. To be honest, he should have done it before entering the room, but he hadn’t given up on the second quest despite their attempted escape. he had planned on waiting until they found an evolved creature before deciding on whichever skill the crystal held that would allow him to counter and slay it.

But they had found something much worse.

The world went dark as Alex's consciousness was transported, and he found himself strapped for time once more, swimming in a sea of systemic inky blackness and forced to make instant decisions with consequences that would fray the lines between life and death.

That is to say, Alex had to pick a skill, and whatever he picked would have to be chosen fast as hell.

[Skills limited by differing race]

[…]

[Skills Altered for host race compatibility]

[System Message: Choose one of 4 Skills]

[Lesser-Hivemind (Passive): Grant mutual mental cognition and communication between yourself and accepting beings of your choosing. The number of hive mind members will be limited to skill mastery. Current mastery: 0% - 1 member]

[Beastial Senses - Arachnae (Passive): become highly attuned and sensitive to vibrations transmitted through surfaces such as the ground, plants, or the walls. detect air currents and vibrations and sound waves, chemical signals in your environment, and gain a detailed, almost three-dimensional view of your surroundings that transcends several mundane materials and limitations]

[Predation (Active - 5 minutes): consume the flesh of your enemies to gain temporary stay boosts, by consuming the the flesh of living foes gain a chance at temporary stat gain. Consuming the hearts of living foes will guarantee temporary time-limited boosts to your stats. Stronger foes will yield better and more guaranteed results. High mastery will yield better and more guaranteed results. at mid to lower mastery, the consumption of beast cores will result in mana overload and subsequent death]

[Abyssal Chitin - Arachnae (Active - 5 minutes): consume a large portion of mana to transmute your skin into a layer of dense Chitin. This skill grants the ability to alter your exoskeleton at will, morphing your body's surface shape into different forms. Lower levels of mastery will produce limited shapes, Higher levels of mastery can range from growing exoskeletal constructs to sprouting additional limbs for added defense or offense.]

As the shadow of the Queens grasping digits loomed, Alex reviewed his options in a blink and instantly made his decision.

Time-Smith: - Chapter 26: Damned Cathedral

The three had discovered artifacts within a new section of the dungeon, a section filled with more deathly beauty than the last. It was a cathedral of some sort, a twisted rendition and ode to forgotten figures.

Markus looked around, his eyes settling on the towering stone figures that flanked the entrance to the cathedral-like chamber. "Those stone things give me the creeps. The hells are they meant to be, demons?"

"Statues, Markus, they're just statues." Lucia corrected, as she stepped into the chamber illuminated by the ghostly white light of the torches embedded in the walls. She peered at the statues, soaking in their lifelike masterful details. “I think. They are pretty weird though. It’s like they were made by a master [Mana Sculptor] or something. I wouldn’t be surprised if they could move.”

Markus appeared to agree. “Ok second thought, I think I agree, they probably can move. Hey ugly demon!

Nothing. His words echoed through the cavernous hall, causing dust to fall from the ceiling.

The statues remained staring into the sky, their wings arched back as if ready for flight. Spiked tails coiled around their feet. Their stone eyes still and lifeless.

So much for that, Evan thought, as he entered the space proper, following the pair in heading toward the end of the room.

Curiosity overpowered them. They inspected the statues, their eyes tracing the intricately carved marble scales and stone feathers.

As they walked towards the large double doors, Lucia's eyes drifted up to a window high featuring a giant figure with blue flaming eyes. "The leader of the Flame Army, I presume? How could he be so big? Even giants don’t get that big. What do you think he was? A god?"

Evan nodded. "I'd bet on it.” He had come to that same conclusion some time ago.

Markus, now standing next to one of the stone gargoyles, felt its texture. "This is some fine craftsmanship. Even the spear looks real."

Before the words fully escaped his lips, the ground shuddered, the hall trembled, and dust shook free from their surroundings. Markus, already having extended his hand towards a statue, stiffened.

Reality fractured as a stone spear swung down towards them.

It cleaved Markus in two.

Evan gasped, feeling sickened by the sight of his massacred friend. Another Axe cleaved through him in his moment of distraction.

His ‘death’ caused the world to lurch, and his senses to be torn from his body as he was flung through time, a mosaic of watercolour whirls and blurs shooting past him at speeds so fast they almost turned white. In a few seconds he was back to the past, sitting on the dungeon floor in meditation as Markus and Lucia guarded his body.

Evan’s eyes shot open.

"They’re alive!" He almost yelled before realising where he was, before hissing with as much quiet noise as he could. “They’re alive!”

“What’s alive? The Armour? No shit, Hansel. We figured that out the first time.” Markus raised an eyebrow quizzically as Evan gesticulated the tale of his time travel.

He told them of how they had died, about the details of the cathedral, its artifacts, and the statues that guarded them. He told them everything.

Then he closed his eyes, triggered all three of the blazing sources of mana within his mind, heart, and shifting core, and shot through time again.

***

“So I just need to keep a thin layer of dense air around me at all times? That doesn’t sound too hard.” Markus shrugged at Lucia's suggestion as the three of them headed toward the dungeon's cathedral, fully informed of its contents and dangers. They had agreed to test out the gargoyles capabilities, and understood that theyre deaths would not be permanent, and that only Evan would remember, although Markus insisted on making them both promise to retreat if it seemed like one of them would die. Evan had told them some unbelievable things, but the time spent battling and defeating armour in the dungeon, aided by his not just his enhancements, but by his prophetic knowledge of ambushes and attacks had cemented a majority of his words in both of their minds.

But some doubts still lingered, unbidden within the depths of their subconscious minds.

Although they trusted Evan implicitly, a small part of the both of them wasn’t completely convinced at the prospect of easily obtained artifacts. He rarely lied, and the few times he had, it had been negligible, inconsequential things. But time travel was supposed to be a myth, one whispered in children’s tales of ancient figures and made-up folklore. There were skills out there that manipulated time to a small degree, sure. But to bend it to one’s will completely was to venture into territories unheard of, it was simply hard to believe.

But the journey into the dungeon had changed them in ways that could never be undone. They had both experienced first hand the nature of Evans skills, and the many impossibilities his skills held now flowed through their very flesh and blood. In knowing an impossibility, they had become impossibilities themselves. To doubt him now would be more foolish than believing him. So they decided to believe and searched for the dead gods cathedral, and the example of Evans foresight it would provide.

Soon they found it once more.

Grand walls and arches reached towards a ceiling lost in shadow, supported by pillars twisted into grotesque forms of warriors and beasts. A sense of weight and history permeated the air.

Evan realised it wasn’t weight, but an increase in mana. It wafted around them slightly thicker than before, carried by the dungeon's winds.

Lucia looked around, her eyes settling on the towering stone figures that flanked the entrance to the cathedral-like chamber.

“So those are the ugly things that ‘killed us’?” She asked, placing a palm over her eyes in a placebic attempt to enhance her view.

Evan nodded grimly and stared too. “Yeah. Well just me and Markus, but I'm guessing you put up even less of a fight than we did and died almost immediately after we did.” He turned to face her as Markus stifled a guffaw.

As Lucia prepared her rebuttal, Markus interjected with an apologetic look, “I’m going to go take a look.” Evan shook his head and dissuaded him as Markus continued “What? No, don’t worry they don’t look that tough.” Markus waved away Evans' protest as he studied the towering monuments from afar, the demonic figures with spears large enough to skewer groups of men, etched with master stonework and craftsmanship. Their faces were set forward in perpetual rage, as if daring any to enter the doors they eternally guarded. “Actually they too look pretty tough.” Markus conceded. “Imposing, even.” He began to walk toward the statues, turning his back to the living stone structure to speak once more, “I’m sure you exaggerated their prowess. It sounded like they caught us by surprise, and judging by how they moonlight as statues…” He walked closer to the stone monoliths and turned his back to the monstrous structures once more. “I’m sure the element of surprise is their entire purpose.”

Huh, Evan thought, considering his friend's words. That’s  a pretty good point. Evan began to walk towards Markus, purposefully keeping his gaze away from both the stone gargoyles, and Markus who stood before it with his back turned, both feigning the act of entering the inhuman. Creatures blind spots.

A spear the size of several men lashed out at speed, swinging towards Marcus’s exposed back with swiftness and strange magic that hardly moved the air.

Markus turned and leapt forward to meet it.

His density surged in that split second, as the gargoyle's strength impacted. In an instant, the air around him hardened, and his body densified, absorbing the impact. A sound resonated like a bell's toll, And Markus was flung across the chamber by the blow like a discarded doll.

"Let’s go!" Evan yelled at Lucia as he moved.

A teleport, then another, had Evan appearing above the second gargoyle, soaring downwards towards its twisted head. His fist descended in a shockwave of dust and stone. The creature grunted in pain but did not fall.

It swatted him out of the sky.

Lucia leapt forward, her enhanced musculature causing her to spring from the ground like a bolt from a crossbow. She unleashed a sonic boom from her grip, aiming to dismantle one gargoyle at the neck. The force rippled through the air, but the creature barely budged.

A shower of chipped dark metal and stone rained down from where her [Iron Grip] had gained purchase.

"Sturdy little guy, aren't you?" She clenched her teeth as she leapt off the creature, recalculating her strategy.

But the first gargoyle growled, its body vibrating. Metallic spikes erupted from its skin, harder than before.  They sprayed in all directions.

Markus hardened the air in a thick angled plane in front of him, deflecting a metallic spike that sped towards his sternum. The spike crashed into his shield of air before twisting, veering off in another direction. A muted sound like the dull thud of an anvil burst forth from the impact as the force caused him to stumble backwards.

Lucia snapped her arms forward on instinct, some subconscious section of her enhanced mind choosing to fight, and a metallic spike the length of a man found itself caught in her [Iron Grip], its impact caused a small burst of sound and air to erupt as she slid across the floor some distance before coming to a stop. Her face was a mask of disbelief at her own actions. Despite the danger, her eyes swivelled to Evan in further awe.

Evan focused, his synapses firing at speed, hundreds of connections caused the world to slow in his vision and the black blurs in his vision solidified. Sharp jagged metallic spikes the size of his arms rocketed toward him.

This time they wouldn’t die, he would make sure of it.

He [Teleported] through them, dodging one after the other, and In his mind's eye, time moved as children would, slow and trudging. He navigated through the metallic hail of spears in bursts of energy and speed.

He closed the distance.

The first gargoyle roared, its stone flesh rippling as it metamorphosed—The air howled, filling with a metallic scent as the creature’s stone skin transformed, hardening into a metallic, nearly indestructible hide.

Evan felt the air around him harden, and for a second, he couldn’t breathe.

A screeching echo filled the chamber. The second gargoyle opened its mouth, a thick jolt of electricity snapping towards himself and Lucia in a blink.

Evan stuttered in disbelieving exasperation, "Electricity? Seriously?"

Soul of Blades - Interlude: The Hidden Queen

Authors note: thanks for your patience!m guys!

In the quiet of her grand chamber, a girl sat. Well, she wasn’t quite a girl. Yes, technically she was a girl, in the way that technically a lion was a cat. But for the sake of simplicity, she often considered herself as a simple female; it was a quaint misnomer. 

She sat on her throne and pondered her nine sisters, each with their own unique impressions that left ripples across the globe.

She picked up a morsel, examining its texture before placing it between her teeth and savoring the satisfying crack as it split open. Juice from her morsel's core squirted, cooling her tongue with its freshness.

Her first sister, much like a shadow, seemed ever-present yet elusive, her actions like mirages that barely stirred the air. The girl tossed another morsel high, watching it spin before catching it deftly between her teeth, her movements mimicking the first sister's quiet grace.

And her second sister? She shivered, causing a soft tinkling sound to ripple through her. the less time spent thinking of the second, the better. 

The girl nibbled on another morsel, pondering if life's true essence might elude the tomes and rituals that so captivated her strangest sister.

The third sister's artisan hands constantly shaped metal and stone into forms of beauty and strength. The girl split another treat, appreciating its solid exterior giving way to the softer inside, much like her sister's ability to turn rigid materials into art.

The fourth sister was something of an alchemist, lost in her labyrinth of bottles and concoctions, forever in pursuit of the perfect mixture. The ‘key’ she called it. As the girl reached for another morsel, she felt akin to her sister, each nut a mystery of flavor waiting to be discovered.

The fifth sister's touch brought healing and comfort, her nurturing presence a balm for any ailment. The girl smiled as she felt the juice of the snack soothe her palate, a momentary comfort much like her sister's reassuring mental presence.

The sixth sister's elusive nature made her blend seamlessly with her surroundings, her steps light and untraceable. The girl playfully tossed a morsel, this one with 12 legs, and watched it disappear momentarily into the shadows before plucking it from the air, a nod to her sister's art of vanishing.

The seventh trained tirelessly, her spirit unyielding and fierce. The girl's fingers gripped another appetizer firmly, feeling its resistance before cracking it open, a small tribute to her sister's indomitable will.

The eight‘s ambitions stretched far, her dreams as vast as the lands she sought to claim. As the girl savored another morsel, she pondered the vastness of her youngest sister's aspirations, and each meal became an image of the territories yet to be conquered. Each bite was an example of what was to come for the lands above. In her mind's eye, the fat human she held in one of her many hands was identical to the entirety of the town her brood had recently assaulted; ripe and ready to be consumed.

Crunch.

Another notification.

The ninth sister, the strategist, saw life as a grand game, her every decision calculated and precise. The girl carefully selected the next morsel, from a shivering line of them. Some morsels avoided her multifaceted gaze and attempted to hide. How futile. She considered its shape and size before snapping it up, an homage to her sister's deliberate and thoughtful approach.

The Drifter arachnae disappeared down her gullet.

But the Hidden Queen was still hungry. Perhaps she would try more humans next? She mentally issued orders to her hive to deliver a new batch to her chamber.

All Arachnae of all forms and variances still possessed many similarities that tied them together. One of these similarities were the countless pores that inhaled and excreted their pheromones.

They filled the air with their pheromones, at all times and on all lands,  and had been doing so since the first Arachnae evolved into being hundreds of years ago. Yes, They were a young species, but they were powerful, unstoppable. the apex of life. The Hidden queen estimated that a tenth of any single pocket of air on the entire planet consisted of Arachnae pheromones.

The pheromones they excrete were harmless to living creatures, no different from the very air it proliferated, but the undetectable scent contained microscopic patterns of information that allowed the Queens to communicate with each other and give general commands to their respective hives. In the past, Arachnae variants could only project subtle feelings of intent, emotions, and fleeting impressions. A few words at most. Only the queens could truly utilize it to hold conversations in any way they wished. In the past it was a limited thing, a tool to control the hives and communicate with her sister-queens over vast distances.

But some weeks ago, everything changed.

The system arrived. She had despised it at first, unwilling to trust a method of primitive written communication that reminded her so much of her enemies, the lesser races. But then it had placed information directly into her mind as a fellow queen would. It brought so many changes, it granted them ‘levels’, and ‘stats’. She loved the ‘stats’. And the ‘skills’, too.

The passive skills, ‘Hivemind: Arachnae’, and  ‘Adaptive Evolution’, for example.

‘Hivemind: Arachnae’ gave every single Arachnae in the world a voice. Where before, only the queens could truly utilize and control the information stored within their pheromones, now, all Arachnae could communicate as the queens would, although with some difficulty. The non-queen Arachnae variants still obeyed their every whim, if she wished, she could order the entire hive to kill itself, and almost all of them would. The non-queens, the workers, soldiers, and variants, had weak mind-voices. Like a soft wind so low you didn’t know it was there, if she concentrated, she could hear the newborns babbling thoughts throughout her hive, and observe the running of her kingdom. Some voices were slightly louder, like the soldiers and some of the stronger variants, they were about as loud as a soft tap, and easily ignored. The queen's mind-voices were like storms. If she wanted to, she could stop the hive with a thought. Call out to her ‘sister-queens’ on a whim. But she didn’t feel like it.

She loved the hive mind; with it, she and her sister-queens' voices could shake the world, or send thoughts, sights, sounds, tastes, and smells to each other, have conversations across vast distances and yet see each other as if they were standing side by side. One of her sister-queens could even send memories. They would use the skill to rally their armies to decimate their lessers.

And for a while she had thought they had won. When news that all the living races born with sentience had disappeared from the land entirely, she had been confused. The beasts- from the weakest to those strong enough to develop sapience and power of their own- ruled the land for a short while. The first few days had been a bloodbath, many of her enemies fell. In those moments She believed the humans to have been eradicated. It was a good time.

Until they returned.

But they were weaker. She laughed audibly. So much weaker! She giggled still. They had all been weakened considerably by the system, but her kind had engorged themselves on the lesser races and quickly regained some semblance of strength, ‘Adaptive Evolution’ had caused the setback to only be a temporary one. They simply had to feast until they’d gained a remnant of their power.

she had intended on remaining hidden for longer, increasing the hidden numbers of her beast-like brood who evolved without adequate sentience from only having feasted on creatures and animals, but the system's arrival had changed everything; from now on, humans and all the living races above would be the main course.

And their search for a final evolution would solve that.

All Arachnae evolved throughout their life, once at birth, another shortly after, and once more at some point in their lives. Maybe four times for the most talented of them. ‘Adaptive Evolution’ had simply given a name to something they had always been capable of.

Idly, she plucked a soldier from the ground, and her beautiful porcelain face, resembling almost identically the woman she had eaten upon birth over a hundred years ago, split into 5 twisted segments, an arachnid mouth and fangs stretching impossibly wide beneath her porcelain carapace's face. Then she frowned.

Stop it.

The soldier immediately stopped struggling at her thought-message-command.

Crunch.

She squeezed, and the brittle thing fell apart in her oversized hands like dried leaves, a mess of ichor and clattering carapace littering the floor. Someone would have to clean that up.

Idly, she sent a soft thought-message throughout the hive, ordering the closest cleaner variant to come and remove the mess from her eating. Perhaps she would order them to stay in her chamber.

She held the soldier's glowing core between her fingers, suspended above her gaping maw.

She swallowed it whole.

[You have predated the mana heart of the defeated. +1 to strength, +1 to dexterity, for 15 minutes]

She smiled again at the system's message. That was a good morsel. Its ‘stats’ had truly changed things for her and the sister-queens.

Bring me more. More humans. More cores. More hearts.

Her command shook through the minds of all within her hive.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 33 & 34: Proliferation / The Entrance

“What do we do?! John yelled, his voice reaching Alex over the maelstrom of rumbling rock and distant screeches.

For a second and for a breath, Alex hesitated. Indecision seized his joints and the temptation of endless rewards tugged him in all directions. He did not think he had performed enough acts to secure the most valuable quest rewards for escaping. After all, John and the Kid had dealt all but one of the final blows. He found himself tempted to head back into the darkness to find some more Arachnae monsters, to slaughter more of them before leaving.

I mean, it couldn't hurt to check, right? He bargained with himself as the ground trembled.

He really wanted that insight.

Alex took a step in the wrong direction before coming to his senses. His desire to further his journey into the Dao influenced his subconscious steps. John frowned in concern and the girl quirked her head in disbelief as Alex seemed to abandon their escape completely- right when their path to freedom lay clear in sight.

Alex sagged- catching himself, and mentally shook away the greed clouding his thoughts. He attempted pragmatism in the way one would wear an undersized coat- that is to say, he forced it.

He forced himself to think logically of all the things that could go wrong if he turned back, even for minutes. If we head back… there's a big chance of getting lost, Alex reasoned, the prospect of being trapped shattering his greed further. And who's to say we’ll be able to find our way back here? And how many battles would it take to complete the second quest? There have to be hundreds of these things in here… And only god knows how long they've been hiding underground. Alex also considered the fact that the system’s message heavily implied the colony had been dormant for at least a century. Hiding, growing, only making sure not to disturb the humans until they were ready to break the surface. A hundred years of untampered proliferation.

Their numbers could be in the thousands.

“We escape for now!” he yelled back, decision made. It wouldn't end here. He reasoned that the Baron and whichever monarchy existed above his station would have every reason to deal with the waking lion in their midst. Not to mention the local adventurers and ambitious warriors desperate for a chance to level. They would escape to come back later and end this, one way or another. “We'll come back with an army, and wipe them out,” he said.

“Damned right.” John nodded and held his sword at the ready. Beneath her coverings, the girl frowned with unreadable emotions at her companions' words.

All three headed toward the battling soldiers in the distance. Alex took a step, summoning a blade into his right hand. Then with his next step, he summoned another into his left. “Follow my lead. When I attack, all of you follow suit.

“If either of you have any long-distance skills, that would be the time to use them.” Alex set off in a sprint, the rumbling earth and crashing rocks masking his ascent.

Alex pulled up his stat sheet and dumped his four free stats into dexterity; he would need any speed advantage he could get while facing 12 blades at close range.

[Name: Alex Ironwood

Level: 37

Race: Human - Rank F

Primary Class: ̷̷͎̠̠̖̳̮̿́̏̄͝͠Sys̵̞̈́͆̓̓te̸̪̟͇͕͂mic SwO̷̟̮̙͚̔rd So̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅve̶̷̵̴̲̳̱reign

Sub-class: Locked

Strength: 170 (117)

Dexterity: 219 (151)

Endurance: 61 (42)

Intelligence: 255 (176)

Wisdom: 41 (28)

Feats: First Encounter, Pioneer, Pinnacle IV, Survivor, Warrior, Champion

Phoenix Leap, Mana Blade, Boundless Dodge, Duȅ̷̳̮̄͝͠l of C̷͎̠̠̖̿́orruption, Sovereign Executioner,

Passive skills: Inner Focus, Outer Focus, A̷̶̵̴̲̳̱l̸̢͉̗̣̑͐͛à̸̶̵̴̶̷̶̺̥̮̯͇̲̳̱̼̲͒̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̸̴̶̷̵̢̳̮̲̳̱͉̗̣̲̳̱̏̄̑͐͛͝͠Ω̴̵̶̷̲̳̱ ̶̶̯͇̼̲̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̴̶̷̵̳̮̲̳̱̲̳̱̏̄͝͠g̵̶̷̴̲̳̱e̸̪̟͇͕͂e̶̷̵̴̲̳̱E̵̴̶̷̶̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̢̲̳̱̼̲̲̳̱̟̮̙͚͉̗̣̺̥̮͋͐͋͂̔̑͐͛̀͒ͅͅ ̶̷̶̴̵̶̷̯͇̲̳̱̈́̈͛ ̷̸̴̶̷̵̳̮̪̟͇͕̲̳̱̏̄͂͝͠M̷̶̵̴̲̳̱m̸̵̴̶̷̸̷̸̴̶̷̵̢͉̗̣̲̳̱̪̟͇͕̟̮̙͚̺̥̮̲̳̱̑͐͛͂̔̀͒ͅ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̸̶̢̳̮͉̗̣̼̲̏̄̑͐͛͋͐͋͂͝͠ͅO̷̟̮̙͚̔o̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅᾯ̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̸̢̲̳̱̲̳̱̟̮̙͚̪̟͇͕͉̗̣̺̥̮̑͐͛̀͒ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̶͎̠̠̖̼̲̿́͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠ ̷̶̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̴̶̷̵̲̳̱̲̳̱̲̳̱ , Inventory,

Dao: True Immortality - 0.03% Progress

Unassigned stat points: 0]

Fight the three guards, bust the door open and escape, or find the workers and escape. He thought while preparing to lunge forward. His two companions raced beside him as silent spectres, all three planning to aim death at the distracted foes ahead. Alex mentally zeroed in on his targets, all other distractions fading away. If I beat the soldiers before we leave I'll definitely have the highest contribution. He thought between steps. The quest isn't lost just yet.

Alex shot forward like a rocket, leaving the two behind. His system-enhanced physiology cracked the ground as he leapt, and a trail of earth and rock followed in his wake.

John was left gawking and intensified his sprint in an attempt to catch up.

The girl crouched low and launched off the ground in another attempt to mimic Alex’s movements. She soared forth, but slower.

Ahead of them, Alex was a blur. Phoenix Leap. Mana Blade. Mana Blade, he thought, mentally activating his skills as he soared through the air.

The swords in each of his arms blazed blue and encased with mana, and Alex spun in mid-air, stretching his arm taut.

The large-scale battle at the town's borders taught him another use for the mana-intensive skill. Through the battle he had discovered that ‘Mana Blade’ could be used to turn his blade into a potent projectile. Mana Blade was an attack unblockable by anything he’d seen so far. If his opponents were close enough, and if he threw mana-infused blade hard enough, it could reach his enemies with deadly unstoppable efficiency. If he released his weapon from his grip without deactivating the skill, the skills mana remained infused in the blade for just over a second. In some cases, a second was all it took.

He flung the first sword as hard as he could. Aiming at the insectile soldier to the left of the other, and hurled the sword in his right hand immediately after.

Using Mana Blade so early was a risk, of all of his skills, it was one of the few with a heavy cost. He had developed a habit of saving it for openings and killing blows. But he wanted to end these soldiers as swiftly and definitively as possible, to escape without any hindrances and claim his Dao reward.

A trail of light blurred forward as Alex's swords shot through the air, the light and sound of their passing masked by the chaos all around them.

The soldier, without looking, raised two of its arms with unerring accuracy to block Alex’s ascending blade. It moved to block the projectile even as it struck and defended the blows of its arachnid opponent with the others.

A mistake.

The remnant mana of Alex’s Mana Blade sheared through two of the soldier's arms and swords in a blur of blue and silver, the cut limbs and broken weapons fell to the ground brutalised. The flung blade sank into the wall with a swift thud, its mana long disconnected from its owner, spent.

At the sight, the other soldier twisted beneath the glowing sword with its arms splayed, causing the second blade to miss, whizzing by its target and sinking into the embroidered wall behind it.

Alex raced forward to meet them with a clash, and ten blades descended on him from all angles.

Boundless Dodge. Boundless Dodge.

Alex was a blur of movement as blades grazed his hair and sliced his clothes. The blades missed by millimetres.

He inhaled sharply, a single breath focusing his mind. His right foot pivoted, shifting his stance to employ the Ren Dan- a complex multiple-strike technique, its movements forged into his muscles as a blacksmith would forge his own hammer. body swerving just as the first blade whistled past, missing him by mere inches. His left arm shot up, parrying a downward strike from a second blade. Four more descended. No time to think. He struck and twisted and struck again, then once more. each aimed at a different vital of his multi-limbed adversaries. He unleashed a flurry of strikes a baseline non-system human would not even be able to see.

But the strikes were ineffectual, each arm of the soldiers appeared to move with dexterous independence, blocking and striking simultaneously. Each block sent them sliding back, or tumbling. Then they began to parry, and Alex’s heavy blows merely caused them to buckle or tilt. They move with uncanny, almost prophetic accuracy, at some strikes not even looking as they defended with extra limbs. It was as if they could see for each other, or share their vision, somehow. As if they could communicate without speaking.

Another coordinated strike, 10 lances of death. Blows targeted in ways Alex could not hope to evade. But he had been prepared for this, after the first clash.

Boundless Dodge, he thought.

Hair was sheared, and clothes cut further, but his skin remained untouched. His skills mana seized him, aided by his intent, causing him to spin to a  crouch beneath a storm of ten crashing blades above.

He looked up to see the injured soldier with all of its four remaining limbs overextended above. Its body was wide open.

Phoenix Leap. The skill sent him crashing into the injured soldier at close range.

The soldier went flying into the far wall with another crash.

“Tch.” Alex clicked his tongue in irritation. The soldier was further injured and now lay stuck, embedded in the wall- but it wasn’t dead. He had been intending on cleaving it in two, but it had twisted all of its blades at the last second to intercept the blow, somehow.

He wasn't sure how non-humans allocated their stats, but the creatures before him were identically fast to each other. Fast and strong enough to face him as a threat. He imagined their stat sheets would have disproportionately high dexterity and strength numbers and not much else besides that. Probably on the orders of the Queen, he guessed. They were like glass cannons, impossibly dangerous, but all it would take to end them was one good strike.

Alex landed in a crouch with frustration bubbling within him. This fight was taking too long. Despite the difference in strength, their coordination and sheer number of limbs made them a difficult enemy to deal with. He shuddered to think of how it would be to face an Arachnae soldier with stats equal to or greater than his. He wasn't sure that it would be a battle he would win.

Be one hell of a fight, though, he thought grimly.

He turned to face the remaining soldier, sword raised, ready to end this.

In the heat of battle, Alex couldn’t count the number of myriad eyes arrayed in the depths of its chitin visors, but he did see two large ones in the front, and several more arachnid eyes to the sides. They probably had perfect 180, or 240-degree vision.

He struck out anyway, aiming to overwhelm them with his inflated stats.

Two blades parry Alex’s attack, the soldier grunting in chipped alien tones at the difference in strength, and in the same instance, seven more struck towards him with swiftness, all aimed at his vitals.

Alex felt a shadow behind him and twisted just in case, and his heart sank at what he saw.

The second soldier had raced forward to capitalize on his distraction. It was practically dead on its feet, its carapace a mosaic of fractures. But it moved with a crazed zealousness that bordered on insanity.

His companions were too far to reach him, his plan to race ahead had created as much risk as it had opportunity.

Alex’s thoughts screamed as he instantly unleashed the trump card he’d planned the moment he’d begun to battle them.

Boundless Dodge. Sovereign Executioner. Mana Blade.

He swung wide, aiming at their heads, while he summoned his mana construct on the floor beneath both soldier's feet. They seemed to see everything and could communicate somehow, warning each other of their blind spots. But all of their eyes were focused on the front and sides, Alex gambled on their inability to perceive something in the heart of their shadows. Their blind spot was at the base of their heels.

The Arachnae soldiers arched back to dodge his glowing unblockable blade with inhuman flexibility in the same instant as the ground beneath them rippled and warped, a long ceremonial blade swept in an arc under Alex’s control. It cleaved through both of their legs, sending them toppling. The six-armed soldier recovered swiftly despite losing its legs, landing on four of its arms and thrusting two at Alex’s throat.

Fuck! Boundless Do-

Before Alex could summon his evasion. The girl came crashing into the Soldier with both feet. A crunching impact akin to a gunshot sounded as both of her webbing bound feet sent the amputee arachnid tumbling.

John soon followed, and together he and the girl made short work of the dazed and badly injured soldier.

[You have defeated, Level 35 Arachnae Soldier]

There goes my contribution, Alex rose to his feet with a sigh and slew the remaining soldier. The soldier lay on its stomach struggling to crawl towards its scattered swords. hadn't recovered as well as its kin.

Alex killed it.

[You have defeated, Level 35 Arachnae Soldier]

Only level 35? Both of them?  The notification gave credence to his ‘glass cannon’ theory. Alex had a total of just over 740 stats. The stats of someone with a level near seventy, assuming they had a common class and gained ten stats per level. Or the stats of someone with a level in the 50s-  if they had a unique or greater class or something that rivalled his own.

But despite the stat inflation he only had 168 strength and 211 dexterity.

If an opponent went all in on strength and dexterity and had a common class that allocated stats to just those two and nothing else, then at level 35 they could have 113 strength and 113 dexterity. They would be almost as strong and fast as he was, but any injury would leave them at death's door. There was a high chance that each soldier at that level had two-thirds of his strength and half of his speed. And it wouldn't take many levels for them to outstrip him in either stats.

At level 45 they would rival him as he was now, in speed and strength alone. And anything beyond that level would outpace him in those fields.

Alex gulped in trepidation at the prospect.

It caused past notifications to rise to the forefront of his mind.

[2: Arbiter of Evolution: Defeat the evolved swarmlings before an unprecedented evolution occurs.]

It had said, and then a calculation:

[…Should the Rite complete, high-level members of designation ‘The Hidden Queen’s’ colony will proceed to subjugate the land above, as the predicted level difference of colony members as a result of the rite will leave a 47% chance of subsequent non-Arachne victory.]

With the advent of the system and its physiology-enhancing stats, these things stood a real chance of proliferating the planet. The natives would have to scramble to attain levels just to keep up with the threat.

They had to escape to warn the others in town as soon as possible.

He paused as a dark glint by the dead soldier caught his eye. Crouching, Alex’s palm grasped a dark crystal that swirled with strangely coloured mana in his Outer Vision.

“Let's go,” Alex called to the others with a step forward. And his companions joined him in heading towards the door beneath the archway. As they drew near, Alex retrieved his swords embedded in the walls, storing them in his Inventory with a swift gesture.

As the sounds and screeches of battle drew distant, Alex cradled an item in his hand as he hesitated before the door.

A skill crystal of arachnid origins.

He pushed, and the door opened before his fingers could even graze its surface. Cautiously, the three entered. The girl's expression beneath her wrappings grew increasingly concerned with each step.

Then the door slammed shut behind them, and an overload of bright colours, sounds, tastes, and smells assaulted their senses.

For a heartbeat, silence reigned.

Alex leaned into the stillness, shock consuming him. Momentarily blinded by the shift in light, he tried to parse the overload of information that lay before him.

A woman, at the far corner of the large space they found themselves in.

At the end of the room she drifted.

At first, he thought she was floating in the air, suspended high above at the end of the chamber.

Until the luminous Moss variants entered, a congregation.

They surrounded her, glowing like fallen stars. Each one a beacon of unnatural life. They were like living trees, exoskeletons spongy, pulsing with bioluminescent life. The moss, a key to their path of evolution.

They circled the chamber like ghostly forest spirits. Some vanished into distant chambers, silent as the dark itself. Lighting the paths ahead.

The ones that remained, circled the floating woman. Illuminated in sudden light, a grotesque form loomed. The extent of the floating ‘woman’ became clear.

Eight legs, thick like tree trunks, stretched to reach the corners of the chamber. Deeply rooted, they held aloft the true breadth of her towering torso.

A womb far larger than should be possible, enough to fill a corner of the chamber. Enough to fill a house to bursting. But filled with eggs, teeming with life beneath a mother's suspended bosom.

A giant arachnid, a blend of human and spider, made manifest. Almost human, but not quite.

She smiled with delight at the sight of her visitors.

Carapace glistened, doll-like in the bright light. Her many eyes held mirth, glinting as sinister jewels would.

In shadows deep, other figures appeared where some vanished, silent and unseen. Humans. Victims. Workers. Cores. Each second stretching like an eternity. Then, a swift, brutal act.

She ate them. It ate them all.

A subordinate Arachnae dared to speak.

It ate that, too

Its protests cut short. A swift motion. The subordinate's body, crushed. It's core, consumed.

A splatter, muted. Ichor and blood hit the ground in melded rains, an end to dissent. An end to protest.

It advanced, a nightmare given form. Legs like twisted pillars supported its half-human, half-arachnid body.

With deceptive beauty, It smiled at its visitors once more.

The sound of its movement, a chilling scrape. Eyes, numerous and unblinking, fixated on the group ahead.

Clicks resounded, chitin scraping stone.

Click. Click. The sound, relentless. A rhythm of impending doom.

A medley of death.

The matriarch, clothed and fearsome, moved with deadly purpose. Eight arms, each holding a meal. Several holding Arachnae, several more holding humans.

Its mouth, a black abyss, issued commanding rhythms. Voice cold as death.

The Queen, a grim monarch. Authority absolute.

In her midst, more figures. Humanoid, two-legged, yet unmistakably Arachnae. Closer to the ground than the towering worker companions, armoured in natural chitinous plates. Slightly larger than human men, they stood at attention, armoured in natural chitin. Their stoic forms commanded the spaces in which they stood. Their faces shifting mosaics of exoskeleton, each resembling a knight's helm, hard and angular. Venomous fangs peeked from large mandibles. Six eyes, Six swords, and arms six — warrior casts, soldiers of the swarm.

Alex, John, and the girl were frozen in stunned inaction at the sight. The three of them stood before the soldiers and the Hidden Queen’s Chamber.

The ‘Entrance’.

John gulped, and sliced through their statuesque and shocked senses with shaky words,

“Uh… guys. I don't think this is the way out.”

Soul of Blades - Chapter 31 & 32: The First Soldier / Rite of Evolution

"So, what's a class milestone exactly?" Alex's voice cut through the cave's oppressive silence as they trudged toward the uncertain exit.

John glanced over his shoulder, his eyes reflecting a mix of weariness and alertness. "A class milestone? It's a significant boost you get after you've grown into your class. A skill that usually hits between levels 15 and 50. And then a new milestone comes every fifth level after that with the next one being at level 100.” He gestured with enthusiasm.

The girl stepped towards John, and chimed in curiously "And what do they do? The ‘milestones’?"

"They're more than just new skills," John explained, his tone growing enthusiastic. "It's like... They shape your path, influence the nature of your class, making it stronger, more... unique," John continued, “at least, until the next milestone comes and takes things in a different direction, or further down the same path.”

The girl, still holding her sword in an awkward and unwieldy grip, pressed further, "Influence? How?"

"It's hard to explain," John said, his voice low, as if wary of the echoing cave walls. "It's like... each milestone skill you gain can alter how your class operates, change the nature of a majority of the skills you gain until your next milestone at level 100, or 150, and so on.” he waved his hand to express the vagueness of his understanding. “And the quests mentioned something called class and skill consolidation too. But it's supposed to be a long way off for anyone. It's like combining what you've learned into something more... potent." His raised brow and gestures with upraised palms betrayed his lack of knowledge on the subject. “In the tutorial, they said that consolidation was ‘a distant dream’, and that none of us were expected to reach a milestone in the first few months,” John’s eyes then took on a sparkly gaze as if recalling the fondest of memories. “But I saw Tuln do it. Everyone did.”

At his words, Alex’s curiosity peaked. “What did he do?” he asked.

John continued. “He reached a milestone during the tutorial. He was the first to gain a class, you see. Some form of pugilist class that matched his old style. But at the milestone, he summoned Spears of flames from the sky, conflagrations that decimated a horde of beasts. The power was immense." He gesticulated with restraint as he spoke in hushed tones, “After his milestone, his powers, man, like a god. He and a few others single-handedly turned the tide of the first few tutorial hordes. Gave the rest of us a fighting chance. Fire from the heavens, everyone's been talking about it for days.”

The girl's eyes widened beneath the webbing in pure fear. "F-Fire? Flames from the sky? That's…”

“Amazing, I know.” John continued, oblivious to her true feelings and swept up in the tale of witnessing his childhood idol in the flesh. “He was a war hero, you see. And a retired guard captain. But he was much more than the stories of his youth claimed. Even with the system stripping all of our strength away, he took on the first horde practically by himself and won before the first milestone.”

Alex smothered a smirk. That sounded familiar.

“But consolidation, and milestones.” Alex frowned in thought as his attention lingered on the prospect of merging skills, and merging classes. "Sounds like it's rare to reach that point."

"So soon? Very," John agreed. "Tuln was one of the few. But he's always been a legend." John scrutinised the cave's uneven and rocky ground as he spoke, then turned to Alex with a gaze full of intrigue… and excitement. “Why do you ask?”

Alex shrugged. “My memory is still hazy, but the words felt important for some reason.”

John eyed him sceptically, his face lit by the faint luminescence of the cave walls. Then he too shrugged and then replied, "Sure… Keep your secrets. Either way, it's like a major power-up. And if you have one, then it may improve our chances considerably.”

Alex nodded, then turned to study the girl. her permanently covered face was odd, to say the least. But upon entering the town he had noticed people with odd affectations that aided their skills in some way. Like a woodcutter draped in axes, or a blacksmith constantly aflame. He had assumed through her ease of movement that she had been similar; it implied she had a skill of some sort that allowed her to see. The most recent battle with the Juvenile Workers had damaged the webbing covering her body, revealing some of the person that lay beneath. The sight of vaguely humanoid Arachnae had caused him some concern and suspicion towards her hidden face, but they had been like crash dummies with hard chitinous plates and smooth features. He looked at the girl once more. Her clearly human skin could be seen in places where the webbing on her body had frayed, her skin tone matching his. Her clear facial features and even her bare lips could be seen beneath the webbing- clearly human- in a way that reminded him of his sister. He mentally sighed in relief at a concern that had been nagging at him ever since he'd seen her completely covered form; now that parts of the webbing had frayed during battle, it was clear to see that she was human. “What skill do you have?” he asked her with interest.

She hesitated, unsure. Then she spoke, “I can sense things, all things around me without having to look, but it’s all so new, confusing.”

She turned to John. "And that sword you made from ichor, how did you do that?"

John looked down at his blade. "Ah, that’s 'Bloodletting' and 'Sacrificial Blade'. All blood essentially becomes a weapon.”

She looked down, a sense of longing in her voice. "I wish I had a class. And my skill is weak, and it requires me to be blindfolded. I want something cool, like yours or Alex's."

“I want something powerful."

She doesn't have a class? And she's doing a special Quest while being carried by us? Alex was impressed with the girl's fortune. Some people have all the luck.

"Don't worry about it.” He voiced his thoughts as they stood. “Survive this, and whatever class you get, it's going to be something extraordinary. It's all based on your actions."

John nodded in agreeance, "He's right. You're doing great with just one skill. Imagine what you'll do with a full class."

Her lips curved into a small smile beneath the webbing. "Thanks. I hope it's something cool."

Alex steered them around a sharp rock. "We can't stand here forever. Let's focus on getting out of here first. Once we're safe, we'll figure out the rest."

They set off through the cave system.

***

The three moved slowly in silence, their every breath a further attempt at stealth. They trudged through the labyrinthine caves, each passage identical to the last. It was a maze. Each drip of falling water caused them to shift to attention, and each sound of distant scuttling forced them to pause their steps.

Alex crawled to the cave wall, feeling its cold, rough surface. "A dead end. We need to find another way out. There has to be another exit."

John followed, his hands skimming the cave floor, picking up a small, sharp stone. "Maybe we can use this to mark our path, avoid going in circles."

Alex nodded. "Good idea. Let's stick to the left wall, and keep track of our route."

The girl, keeping close behind, clutched her sword tight. Her covered eyes focused on Alex’s form, her attempts at mimicking his stance aided by whichever ability she held that gave her uncanny control over her body. She focused on the way he shifted his feet and held his blade in readiness at every turn.

Click.

A soft rustling echoed through the cave. Alex halted, signalling the others to stop. "Did you hear that?" he whispered.

John nodded, gripping his weapon tighter. The girl, her face a mask of curiosity, stayed motionless, her breath shallow.

All three moved silently to hide within the cave's shadows.

For a moment, there was silence. Then, strange voices sounded in the distance. The voices carried a raspy clicking quality like scrapped chitin. They sounded a safe distance away, but Alex caught the words “Queen,” “orders,” and something that sounded like “Evolution.”

He strained his ears to hear more.

Then, without warning, a giant arachnid emerged from the darkness, its many eyes glinting in the dim light. A Worker, with eight thick legs planted firmly on the ground, a humanoid torso rising from its arachnid base. It held the same doll-like, featureless carapace Alex had grown to associate with the Juveniles, but this one also held a fully formed and segmented mouth of pure black reflective exoskeleton.

Another identical Juvenile Worker followed.

It wasn't alone. Smaller glowing counterparts, their bodies illuminated by inner bioluminescent light, accompanied and surrounded it, casting elongated shadows in the cave. The arrival of glowing Arachnae caused Alex, John and the girl to duck behind the rocks and meld deeper into the shadows. Hidden in the shadows cast by the glow, Alex took another peak and noticed that each of the glowing Arachnae had tree-like qualities to them, their exoskeleton seeming spongy, or stringy, and shining with inner bioluminescent light.

It's the moss, Alex realized. Those smaller ones evolved by consuming the moss. He wondered whether the Arachnae used them solely as light sources.

There were about five of them, each reaching up to Alex’s waist and covered in plant life and glowing Moss. And they all surrounded and illuminated another Arachnae, one very different from any Alex ever had seen before.

It stood on two legs.

It had an almost completely humanoid form, betrayed only by the segmented dark exoskeleton and clearly inhuman arachnid flesh that lay beneath.

It stood only slightly larger than him, closer to human in stature than the oversized workers, and it was covered in naturally segmented carapace that seemed to form the shape of armour.

Chitinous exoskeletal armour.

It held an inhuman face full of shifting and clicking exoskeleton and hard angles- resembling an armoured helm and visor- with venom-infused fangs and large mandibles at the mouth. Its pattern of arrayed eyes gave it a clear view of a large portion of the area it stood in.

It had six bulky arms.

And it carried six swords.

Held in three pairs of arms were an array of swords, held loosely while it walked with an air of sheer authority.

From a distance, a person could easily confuse it with a knight, so long as it didn't spread its many arms.

Alex sucked in a breath at the thought of facing several of these humanoid Arachnae. But despite himself, he felt a tingle of excitement in his belly. How would he fight a thing with six limbs and six weapons? Was it the same as battling six people? His mind whirred at the possibilities, but his thoughts ground to a halt as the thing spoke.

“Hurry. We will have to prepare for the Right of Evolution.” It declared, addressing the surrounding Arachnae. “Our attainment of ‘levels’ and ‘stats’ have raised the efficacy of the Rite to an unimaginable degree. It is very likely some of you will ascend to higher forms, but most of you will perish.” It spoke in dismissive tones and with absolute authority, the kind of tone you'd hear from people who thought the word ‘No’ was something only they were allowed to say. It spoke again, its voice a complex series of clicks and tones that resonated within the cave to form a strange, deep timbre. “Perhaps some of you will rise to join me as soldiers, although I plan to become something more.” It turned to pick something from the ground, its voice sounding through the cave once more. “As the Queen wills it.” It said.

So that's a Soldier, and the larger ones are workers. Alex mentally noted. Despite its smaller size, he didn't doubt for a second that the six-armed and two-legged Arachnae Soldier was more lethal than a worker could ever hope to be.

It rose to its feet and held a glowing beast core the size of Alex's head in one of its many arms, unceremoniously throwing it upward to the closest Arachnae worker. The worker snatched the core from the air with oversized palms and placed it in a pile of equally sized cores that shone in Alex’s Outer Focus enhanced vision like a mound of small flames.

At the sight, John’s eyes went wide as saucers. Alex could practically see the dollar signs- or whatever passed as currency here- ringing up in the town guard's head as he eyed the pile of treasured cores.

The worker spoke, releasing the core into the pile and responded, its voice a slightly higher-pitched amalgamation of sharp clicks and throaty hisses. its tone carried a mix of reverence and anticipation as it spoke.

“For the swarm.”

All of the surrounding Arachnae froze at the workers' words, and the air suddenly became filled with tension so thick none dared to speak further.

The worker's mandibled jaw hung open as all six of its eyes went wide. It had just realized its mistake. “I-”

Cut short. Its words never landed on the ears of those present, as before it could even begin to defend itself its head was swiftly separated from its body.

The armoured, six-limbed, humanoid Arachnae had twisted and struck with a fluidity that belied its size, each of its six swords finding a target on the worker. It had shifted from calm to extreme violence in a blink, its body moving from a state of relaxed authority to brimming with swift fury. It shook with barely controlled rage in the wake of its strike.,

"For the Queen.”

The six-limbed Arachnae corrected the slain Worker with finality, its voice resonating with a potent surge of unyielding loyalty and cold authority.

And Alex observed the swift blow from the shadows. As the soldier had struck, for a moment, its speed was worryingly only half as fast as Alex’s own. With six limbs, any speed advantage Alex had would be lost, and distance would have to become his ally. Within the split second it struck, Alex had instinctively resummoned a sword from his Inventory and held the blade tight- some crazy recess of his subconscious mind willing him to ambush the Soldier and defeat the lot of them there and then as he had done in the jungle. But then he considered John, and the girl’s presence. If more soldiers and workers were summoned he couldn't guarantee their safety. He knew they couldn’t linger in the darkness forever- As when trapped or stranded it was best to move as soon as possible before fatigue and exhaustion or hunger set in. Each second in hiding was a second lost in finding their escape, a second where their finite reserves of energy became depleted and the need for sleep and rest drew nearer. But the risk of his companions' immediate deaths was greater. So for now, they watched, learning from their enemy. They would wait here for the enemy to leave, and attack only if necessary.

The quest's objective was to escape, and Alex’s objective was to claim all of the quest's rewards and another Insight into the Dao. They would have to continue to attempt stealth until they escaped or had no choice otherwise, he decided.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sharp sound of a resounding thud. Several more thuds followed.

Limbs and ichor fell to the ground like rain at the Soldier’s single swing, each consequent thud sent soft vibrations through the cave. Then finally, the severed head of the worker Arachnae fell, its mandibles still twitching in silent protest. The remaining Arachnae stood still, some vibrating in fear, others in rage, their bioluminescent glow lighting the visage of the Armored Soldier for all to see.

It beckoned a nearby glowing moss Arachnae closer and wiped the ichor from its blade on the creature's mossy form as it arrived. “Another abomination.” The armoured Arachnae muttered with disgust. “This ‘system’ brings as many curses as it does boons. We cannot allow any capable of disobeying the Queen to live. Only the Queen can disobey. Drifters cannot be allowed to live.” It spoke the word ‘drifter’ with a mix of rage and indignation, displaying a weight of meaning to the title that caused all of the Arachnae present to shudder in fear. The smaller Arachnae huddled close, their forms quivering slightly under the gaze of their formidable superior.

And Alex was lost in thought.

Drifter… the word was summoning a vague sense of deja vu in Alex’s mind. Growing up, he hadn't always been the most studious, often focusing on training the sword rather than academics. And although he never struggled with his studies, he'd never particularly found a majority of the topics they taught him in school to be interesting. But a few had held his attention over the years, one of them being a slight interest in nature. He vaguely remembered that in nature, a "drifter" often referred to a single creature, typically from a social species like bees or ants, who had been separated from its colony or group, wandering alone without the allegiance, support, or structure of its native colony.

So the system has been giving some of them the ability to disobey orders? Alex noted with interest. But that suggests that the rest of them are incapable of disobeying the queen's whims. He realised. So in the end it all boils down to the Queens. They run the entire species. The depth of the conflict was beginning to make further sense. No wonder they called them ‘The endless enemy’. Their soldiers could be ordered to die with no capability to resist or choose not to. The Queen could always birth more. It was an endless war, too, he noted.

The armoured Arachnae sheathed one of the swords in a strap attached to its bare carapace. And dug through the large corpse of the felled worker, before pulling out a glowing core the size of its palm.

“The cores you carry are vital. Add this to the others and take the cores to the entrance,” it ordered in deep screeching tones to the surrounding workers and glowing moss Arachnae, who all moved to collect the worker's core and add to a pile before making it to carry it away.

“And prepare for the Rite of Evolution.”

With a collective movement, the arachnid group began to disperse, the workers and soldier taking different and opposing paths through the cave. “The workers are carrying the cores to the entrance” John whispered to Alex’s group. “That's our way out of here, we have to follow them!” his arm outstretched to point at the light of the bioluminescent workers in the distance and his whispering hiss cut through the cave's silence.

The leader paused, its head tilting slightly as if sensing something amiss. It sniffed the air, its mandibles opening and closing with a soft clatter. For a moment, it seemed to stare directly at the shadows where the humans hid, but then it turned away, dismissing the threat.

As the Arachnae moved away, their glowing forms faded into a dim light in the distance. And in the darkness, the leader lingered. It raised one of its swords, examining the blade with an almost contemplative gesture. Then, with a swift motion, it sheathed the weapon and headed in a different direction of its choosing, disappearing into the depths of the rugged cave.

“Let’s go.” Alex called, moving to follow the faint light of the workers heading toward the entrance.

***

In the damp confines of the cave, Alex, John, and the girl moved cautiously, their eyes straining in the dim light. They traversed the deep cave system, their path uncertain, surrounded by the oppressive silence of the underground. Alex led with caution, his sword ready, John followed, his hand tight around his own weapon, his eyes constantly scanning the dark. The girl, her movements fluid, lingered close to Alex, her attention shifting curiously to the surrounding darkness and then back to his form. The air was cool and musty, thick with the scent of earth and something far more sinister.

The only sound was their soft footsteps, the distant faint clicks of the workers they followed and the occasional drip of water ringing through the cavernous space.

One female foot found its place on the damp earth. A droplet of water caught the faint light, drawing a brief glance. The hand, barely touching the cave wall, sought balance, obscured and covered eyes intently observing the soft lights ahead.

A second foot, belonging to another in the trio, cautiously stepped forward, the sole brushing against the cavern's uneven ground. Dim light from a distant worker's mossy carapace cast a faint glow, breaking the encompassing darkness. A pause followed, breaths held, as the shadowy figure of a soldier passed by, the sound of its chitin armour a soft clicking in the silence.

"Do you think the soldier was looking for us?" John asked, his voice tinged with worry.

The third of the group adjusted his gear, a strap on the bag sliding into a more comfortable position. His gaze, sharp and alert, shifted to the right, noting the approach of another passing group of workers. He lowered his body, his form melding with the shadows, eyes momentarily catching the flicker of the distant light of the group they pursued.

"Possibly," Alex responded, his body crouched low in hiding. "We did leave a cave filled with dead workers, remember?"

John’s whispering voice faltered as he spoke more of his thoughts. "It's just… I've heard stories of what the soldiers can do… how many they slaughter… and I have to make it back… to my family. I just hope they're not too worried. They're probably organizing a search party as we speak."

The trio had swiftly followed the distant light of the workers through the cavernous depth in silence until the light grew brighter and easier to follow. They halted often, pressing close to the damp, rough walls, or crouched low, as the workers they followed encountered other groups and soldiers that passed by, each threatening step resonating through the cavernous expanse.

Each group they passed appeared to be performing separate tasks and orders, all of them seeming to prepare for some strange ‘rite’. But the three humans couldn't focus on the mystery, for their minds were set and filled with dreams of escape, the entirety of their focus on the ticket to their freedom; the troop of workers and luminous Moss Arachnae ahead.

So, they followed.

They kept their distance, scouting and hiding, employing stealth while following the light of the workers as they headed to the entrance.

The path they took led them upwards, ever upwards on an incline. That was a good sign, they reasoned, up meant they were very likely headed outside. Hope filled all of them in equal measure.

The light ahead served as their guide to freedom.

During their pursuit, they noticed the surrounding caves and caverns change. Rocky terrain and mossy walls gave way to smoothly carved stone, marble, and earth.

Gradually, the environment transformed.

The walls, once rough and unadorned, now displayed craftsmanship. Jagged lines and uneven flooring became segmented and tiled, detailing patterns that would inspire envy from Szars and Kings alike. Opulence was visible in every corner, gold, bronze, and silver adorned the walls and floors in a way that led one to believe the entire section of the cave system had been designed by a master smith and architect. Alex found himself momentarily admiring the Gold, and bronze inlays adorning the walls, interspersed with floral displays of glowing moss. For the briefest of moments, he wondered how monsters could be capable of such displays of artistry, but the thought was a fleeting distraction as the path became clear of obstacles. Moss hung on the ceiling in floral displays, illuminating patches of the space they found themselves in.

And eventually, there was nowhere left to hide.

Together, they approached a narrowing of the path. Alex signalled a halt with a subtle gesture, his hand raised just enough to catch the others' attention. They all stopped, their breaths shallow in the newfound silence. Ahead, a grand archway guarded by two Arachnae soldiers came into view. Alex peered ahead to witness a single door between the soldiers and beneath the archway.

The door within the arch opened. The group's eyes followed the workers, with their stringy luminous bodies and their load of glowing magical cores, disappearing as they entered the space beyond.

The door closed behind them, and the Arachnae soldiers resumed their stoic sentinel.

The silence that followed was not of peace but of a looming storm. Alex thought back to the first soldier they had encountered, and its death blow. The creature’s swift, brutal act had been a display of lethal efficiency and perfect coordination.

“We have to take them out,” Alex whispered to his two companions. John nodded in agreement, and the girl mimicked his movements, agreeing with Alex’s decision.

Their conversation was cut short as the cave walls began to rumble. The ground beneath them started quivering, a low rumble escalating with each passing second. The sound was deep, resonating through the ground and walls. Small stones fell from the ceiling, bouncing off the uneven floor. Dust motes danced in the air, dislodged by the growing vibrations.

John's eyes widened, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow with wary concern. "What's that?" His voice, tinged with unease, barely rose above the low growl of the earth.

"Cave's shifting," Alex said, looking around cautiously. "Stay alert. Could be anything causing it."

The girl, undisturbed by the commotion, slowed her steps to follow behind them cautiously. Her movements were fluid, almost blending with the shadows. She would occasionally reach out, her fingers brushing against the stone, feeling the vibrations and screeches that rippled through the cave. She considered warning Alex and John of what was to come before deciding against it; her reasoning unclear.

The cave's groans deepened, a chorus of cracks filling the vast space. Rocks began to crumble, and distant crashes shook the space around them. Distant screeches sounded, one after the other a chorus of arachnid screams. The rumbling grew louder, the sound of distant crashes and smashes echoing through the caverns. The composition of the cave made it difficult to pinpoint the direction of the noise.

It was all around them.

A sharp stone, its point sharp and jagged, detached silently from above. It plunged towards Alex. The girl, her movements a startling blur, lunged forward. Her arms reached out, a futile gesture to intercept the fall.

Alex, with a swift wave of his arm and a grunt of resistance, swatted the rock out of the sky. It crashed beside him, fragments scattering across the ground.

“C-careful.” The girl spoke softly beneath her bandages, “I tried to stop it.”

“Thanks, Kid.” Alex felt genuinely appreciative of her help. Johns too. Having company amid chaos was a far cry from his days spent alone in the Jungle.

The cave's tremors increased in intensity as dust shifted off the surrounding rocks, floating in the air in haunting waves. Alex stood still, his brow furrowed, eyes scanning the newfound shift of their surroundings. It sounded like battles were occurring through the cave system, or perhaps there was a wide-scale cave-in. He gulped at the idea of being trapped below ground and a bead of sweat trailed down his temple, catching the dim light. He slowly lifted his gaze upward, squinting at the glowing text of a notification that appeared with a ding and hovered before him.

The soldiers guarding the entrance turned to face each other and began to battle, all allegiances seemingly lost. Their many limbs blurred and sparks flew as 12 swords clashed between them.

In the midst of distant crashes and screeches, Alex and John stared at the battling Arachnae in confusion, their stupor halted as rocks began to fall from the ceiling.

Large rocks.

"Keep moving!" Alex's command sliced through the tension. “Head to the entrance!”

All three of them moved with unsure steps, towards the battling soldiers.

They stopped their mad race, all three halting in their tracks as the Arachnae soldiers fought on at the end of the path, unaware of the humans in their midst.

A few feet away from Alex, John, breathing heavily, wiped a smear of dirt from his cheek. His hand trembled slightly as he reached up, touching the notification with a tentative finger, his eyes reflecting a mix of confusion and wariness. As both he and Alex received identical notifications.

[Dynamic Quest Updated!]

[Dynamic Quest - ‘The Hidden Queen’s Lair’:

Designation ‘The Hidden Queen’s’ colony has completed its first sapient evolution birth cycle and initiated a ‘Rite of Evolution’. The members of the colony will proceed on designation ‘The Hidden Queen’s’ orders to attack, cannibalise and consume each other and all present life forms within the colony en Mass until they either achieve higher unseen forms of evolution or a set number of designation ‘Mature Soldiers’ and designation ‘Mature Workers’ have evolved.

… calculating.

Should the Rite complete, high-level members of designation ‘The Hidden Queen’s’ colony will proceed to subjugate the land above, as the predicted level difference of colony members as a result of the rite will leave a 47% chance of subsequent non-Arachne victory.

As a result of the Rite, colony protocols and defences will be abandoned as all members seek to evolve and strengthen the hive. The opportunity to accomplish feats that have not been achieved on planet designation ‘Pyra’ for over a century has presented itself to all surviving non-Arachnae inhabitants present within the lair.

1: Harbinger of escape: Escape the heart of Arachnae designation ‘The Hidden Queen’s’ colony alive. reach any non-Arachnae settlement to complete quest

Reward: Feat generation, E-grade equipment, Insight of the imperial

2: Arbiter of Evolution: Defeat the evolved swarmlings before an unprecedented evolution occurs.

Reward: E grade Weapon x2, E grade equipment x2, Insight of the Imperial.

3: Sapient Saviour: Defeat the Queen of the swarm while there are no defences!

Reward: Various E Grade equipment. Various E Grade weaponry. Insight of the Imperial. Insight of Evolution.]

[Quest Rewards and Quest reward volume dependent on contribution.]

In contrast, the girl stood apart and some distance behind the two, tilting her head curiously at the floating words. The subtle, unnatural fluidity of her movement was more pronounced in the stillness. Her fingers twitched at her sides, almost imperceptibly, as if sensing something beyond the notifications. The faint, purplish light from the marbles in her hand cast a ghostly hue on her web-covered face, her eyes hidden yet seemingly focused on the floating messages. She could not understand what she was looking at, for she did not know how to read. She had grown accustomed to the system translating her companions' words to her and felt no surprise as the meaning behind the Quest screen flooded directly into what she believed to be the space behind her eyes.

The webbing in her face parted briefly, moving with a life of its own to reveal human lips and soft flesh that strangely resembled that of Alex’s sister. And If Alex had taken a better look earlier, he would’ve thought the small section of her lower face that he’d glimpsed resembled that of old pictures of his mother that he’d seen as a child.

As Alex and John faced the notifications, the girl's human mouth split into five parts. Chitin, fangs, and mandibles lay intertwined with human flesh, and two large fangs dripped with venom as an inhuman mouth opened wide before sealing again with webbing wrapping back of its own accord.

And as it did so, the girl popped several of the glowing cores into her open maw.

Oblivious, they all stared at their notifications.

Time-Smith - Chapter 25: The Problem with Time Travel

Rapidly fading mana fizzled through Evan's veins as he leaned against a broken pillar, catching his breath. Lucia, wiping sweat off her brow, sagged towards the floor in exhaustion.

Within the last hour, the trio had faced relentless onslaughts from the animated suits of armour. An hour, delving through the dungeon's depths, evading death and exhaustion with each victory and setback.

Markus had not sustained any life-threatening injuries during Evans's forays into the near future, but a group of dual-wielding armour had managed to blind him, once. A lapse in his concentration and reactions had caused them to find a weakness, and Markus, shrouded in darkness, had covered himself in a thick shell of dense mana to survive. That had been a pain for Evan to heal, as they didn't have the time to wait for his regeneration to do the job. And Markus had complained the whole time. Evan had also died once and Lucia twice more, leading him to make further alterations to their forms when he was forcibly returned to the present by their deaths.

When Lucia died while he time-travelled, Markus refused to proceed. He refused both times she died. Even after Evan told him they were both in a version of the past and nothing they did held consequence or meaning. Markus had simply said “Life has no meaning. It is up to you to give it meaning, and value is nothing but the meaning that we choose. I'm not doing this if one of us dies, Ev. I'm going to do something fun. See you in the present” Before he turned and left Evan in the stillness of the dungeon, alone. Evan had died soon after, unable to face wave after wave of living armour alone.

The second time Lucia died, he tried a different approach to goad Markus into following. He claimed there could be an artifact to revive her. It was not impossible, but it was rare enough to border on myth. Revival artifacts were one-use items, and only a handful had been found in history- in the deepest and most dangerous of dungeons. As they walked and spoke further, Evan made the mistake of mentioning that he was time-travelling at that moment and that an artifact of the gods justified their temporary murders.

At those words, Markus simply scrutinized Evan sharply, before throwing words in frustration as they argued. Evan told him that Lucia wasn't really dead, and that while he time-travelled none of them could truly die. In frustration, Evan said that while trapped in time, the artifacts of the gods was all that mattered. Markus responded with anger, still hurt at the sight of Lucas death. He said “The gods are dead. Gods remain dead. And we killed them. But their shadows still loom. We are Inside their shadow, Ev. That's what this dungeon is. A shadow. How should we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers?” he then turned and left Evan alone once more.

Evan struggled to parse the meaning behind his friends words. Sighing, he resigned himself to the fact that this attempt was a failure. And when they time came, surrounded by blades from all angles, he accepted his temporary death and returned to the present.

That's when he decided to make further changes, to all of them.

Evan had discovered that he couldn't navigate this dungeon safely without them. Each death he'd experienced as he time-travelled had sent Evan rocketing to the present with no gains or information to show for it, besides battle experience and death induced phantom pains. So he was forced to ensure that all three of them were capable of surviving the dungeon’s depths, even as he time travelled.

Due to Markus’s actions each time Lucia died, Evan was forced to ensure that all three of them could delve through time without a single catastrophic failure. Even if it was a temporary one.

He had planned on using his knowledge of the future to keep them alive, but his friends reactions had forced him to change his strategy.

He had increased all three of their synapse speeds, joints, and reaction times to be as fast as his capabilities allowed. When he time-travelled, they had died mainly due to falling victim to the armour’s speed and skill.

So Evan had sought to amend that. And now, they could at least react and defend against the multitudes of enemies.

And so Evan travelled through time again, and they traversed the dungeon once more. Each time he returned to the present a portion of his mama was consumed. He sensed that he only had five more attempts at time travel before he would be depleted. Then they would either have to wait for his mana to replenish, or leave the dungeon entirely.

Another hour passed as the trio delved further. Most of the time was spent replenishing their mana between battles with suits of armour and praying they didn’t encounter another ambush.

They had acclimated to their battles with suits of armour so skilled they would put the city's soldiers to shame. Deep within, they knew they would not have survived without Evans' enhancements, without his ability to travel through time, or without Markus.

Markus’ subskill had been the driving factor of their survival so far.

His ability to alter the density of anything around him, including the air, had saved Evan's life three times already, and Lucia's many more.

But Evan and Lucia had dealt the most damage during the battles, tearing through the hollow monsters' chest plates to siege their vulnerable cores. Evan would often focus, slowing his perception of time, teleporting instantaneously to strike a suit of armour's exposed core once Lucia had torn its metal flesh open. A flash of satisfaction crossed his face at the thought of how much all three of their mana reserves must have increased, their skills’ cores having absorbed a portion of the sentient armour’s mana and making it their own.

"They fight like they've got something to prove, don't they?" Markus said thoughtfully, as he turned from the murals to the scraps of broken armour that littered the ground around them. "Or maybe there’s something they want." He added as an afterthought, his voice soft yet tinged with curiosity.

"I know, right? Do you reckon they were once people? It could explain how they’re so skilled.” Lucia replied as she squinted at the murals on the walls.

Evan considered her question. Whether or not the armour were once knights, they didn’t know, and couldn’t be sure.

Whatever the code or lifestyles the suits once followed had long since faded, and now the only thing that ruled the blue flames beneath their mythril helms was a desire to inflict death. Evan glanced at his bruised fists in thought, feeling the kinetic energy stored within him humming, waiting to be released.

“I guess, but not anymore,” Evan replied, now massaging his hands, the residual vibrations tingling his knuckles. He had always favoured a bow, but any bow durable enough to withstand his enhanced strength was not a bow he could currently afford. I really need to find a weapon I can use, he thought as he rubbed away the soreness. The shockwaves from the constant battles were starting to leave more damage in his hands than his regeneration could keep up with, and the breaks between battles were getting shorter and shorter, almost as if the suits of armour were aware of their intrusion, and communicating somehow. Calling for reinforcements. Each encounter with the suits of armor drained them until the need to replenish their mana had become a pulsing drumbeat throughout their bodies.

"Alright, let's move. We don't want to stick around for round four with another group of suits."

Markus, his eyes still closed as he replenished his mana, exhaled as he rose to his feet.

Lucia flexed her fingers, the air popping with the recoil of her grip. "Lead the way."

The time he’d spent exploring the dungeon had taught Evan a lot about combat, his body, and his mana. His battles with countless suits of armour had taught him the importance of mana conservation. He had run out of mana more than once and during one of the battles he had been severely injured. Running out of mana with dual-wielding suits of living armour closing in on him from all sides had been a nightmare. Lucia had flung shards of metal, stone, and dust, exploded by her [Iron Grip] and flung at high speeds. The shards of metal had impacted Evan as well as the suits, but it was the wide spray of dust and stone that obscured the armour's vision and caused their swings to go wide. Evan had been struck, but not fatally. Lucia’s quick thinking had saved him from certain death.

But having both legs sliced off for the second time in his life was not something he’d ever expected to experience. He’d had to tear through their rations to get the energy needed to regrow his legs, and supplemented his lack of energy with his [Subskill: Create Flesh]. The rest of his limbs had practically shot out, and his mana had dipped prodigiously, causing them to wait and camp in the dungeon while he recovered. But now they had no more food, and soon they would have to leave the dungeon.

But not without getting what they came here for.

Markus whistled a quiet tune as they walked, soaking in their surroundings without a care, or perhaps vigilantly watching for further attacks.

Evan wasn’t quite sure.

The dungeon expanded into an enormous chamber, the ceiling arching high, The vaulted ceiling arched overhead, creating a cathedral-like sense of expansive space, like he’d seen in some of the gods' larger churches. In fact, Evan suspected this was the dungeon's twisted attempt at a cathedral of its own.

They peered forward in unison At the chamber's heart, where wide ominous doors stood, dominating the centre of the vast space. Flanking the path leading to the doors were two demonic statues, monstrous gargoyles armed with spears that seemed to sneer in the dim light. The monstrous gargoyles stood before the giant doors as lifeless works of stone and marble, their wings outstretched as if on the verge of taking flight, and their spears—massive things that could easily impale a man, were towering.

“Nice decor," Markus commented idly.

"Those are disturbingly detailed," Evan said, eyes narrowing at the gargoyles.

Lucia scoffed in response, "Right. Whoever sculpted these had issues," Her eyes followed their gazes and absorbed all the minute detail and artistry carved into the towering figures.

They stood there for a moment, as they sought to recover their breath and mana, soaking in the details of the chamber.

The room stretched in grandeur, vaulted ceilings looming like the heavens. Arched windows, devoid of glass, rustled as the dungeon's winds caressed them. Murals decorated the walls where windows should be, depicting

the image of a man—a being of gargantuan proportions encased in armour, with blue flaming eyes and long streaks of flaming hair beneath the helm. The Intricate details in the mural breathed life into the colossal figure, its flaming armour radiating a soft light through some strange working of dungeon magic, its heat radiating vibrant hues of blue.

“How can it see if its eyes are on fire?” Markus’s gaze followed Evans as he enquired. He suspected this figure to be the same ‘god’ from the hallways.

“Hells if I know. Maybe it sees everything in blue, or maybe it doesn’t even see at all like the armour.” Evan's eyes lingered on the murals as he responded, deciphering another that showed the god-like figure in the act of drawing flames from multiple sources into its palm. It drew from its helm, pulling from what Evan imagined to be its very own lifeforce and that of smaller suits of armour around it.

Another mural portrayed him moulding the flames with a hammer in his hands, surrounded by the empty, lifeless husks of armour. Evan noted that the flames took shape in each mural as they were sculpted by the god's hands, forming the figure of a singular man. A subsequent mural showcased a finished product: a much smaller, human-sized man with blue flaming eyes, flaming eyebrows, and short flaming hair, cradled in the god's hands. Another depicted this man- the god's creation- leading an army of strange, sickly-looking humans with shining blue eyes against the god in war, culminating in a final mural depicting the god battling its creation.

The chamber's arches extended towards a ceiling lost in shadow, supported by pillars twisted into grotesque forms of warriors and beasts. A tangible sense of weight and history permeated the air.

The rows of wooden or stone benches he would have expected from a cathedral were nowhere to be seen. Instead, the sight before them revealed wide floors adorned with intricate geometric patterns and fractals. Candlesticks lined the walls, holding ornate candles that cast a bright, flickering white flame. Unmoving statues of warriors, mages, adventurers, explorers, and even priests, stood along the walls. Some depicted monstrous entities frozen in moments of agony or malevolence.

In the center, large double doors stood before an ominous altar. The altar, made from dark, obsidian-like stone, bore myriad tunes engraved in layers, subtly shifting as if crafted from living darkness. Two objects on the altar captured attention: a chalice containing an unknown elixir and a chained rosary, a corrupted string of beads adorned with small, shackled figures radiating heat.

On the altar before the large doors, two objects caught the eye: a chalice – a vessel that held an unknown elixir – and a chained rosary, a corrupted string of beads adorned with small, shackled figures that seemed to radiate heat.

They had finally found the first of the dungeon's treasures.