Chapter 30 (Patreon)

“I won’t throw it away. But I won’t go on blind faith either. I mean, you’re right. Maybe all that’s beyond the System is a worse system, one that’s more terrifying, more cruel…” He sighed. “I want to go for myself, before I try to bring anyone else. I want to see for myself.”

“That is…” He had her. Sofia was an information-fiend, and the idea of seeing an entirety new world beyond the System’s reach…

He refused to believe that didn’t appeal to her on some level.

“If the System really is the best it gets, there’s nothing to worry about, right? I’ll see that and I’ll turn back.”

“I see. If I can’t stop you, and Nicolas, I really doubt I can… Then this is the best course of action. Maybe some value will even come of it.”

“Oh, you bet it will. C’mon. If there are other ways to cultivate out there, won’t I be stronger for learning about them?” Nic grinned.

“Perhaps.” But her tone said he’d won.

And it was surprisingly easy, too. He’d expected much more of a showdown.

“That said.”

There it was.

“Getting beyond the System is no easy task.”

“We’re already building a portal.”

“We’ve built the base of a portal, in the hopes the System will provide the materials to build the actual bridge. I think that’s firmly out of the question now that it knows you’re plotting a desertion.”

“See, I thought of that. Actually, I put my two little thoughts together, had a good talk, and you know… I think Seoona had a part of her plan she’s not telling me about. Crazy, I know, but she might not actually be trustworthy!” Nic laughed.“See, I think that big storm full of portals, that has to be part of things. I’m willing to bet the Heartstone or whatever, that thing, it’s what’s making the storm…”

“I think I see where you’re headed with this…”

“So if we can get it, we probably have what we need to open a bridge.”

“Quite possibly. Even if not, I don’t imagine letting whatever this Heartstone is fall into Seoona’s hands will bode well for us. Nor… Well… I don’t trust these Legionnaires either.”

Nic snorted. “Tomb, no.”

“They’re competition for the Heartstone, if nothing else. And the Legions have always been an unsavory element of the System. Too much independence, too much ambition. They’ll claim this world as their own if they can.”

“Ayup. Ayup ayup, and I had to invite them in.” Nic sighed and ran his fingers back through his tendril ‘hair’ as he thought. “I don’t suppose there’s any way that genie goes back in the bottle?”

“Possibly. Right now, their only way in is for you to hire mercenaries. The advance force they sent you… We could eliminate them. They’re only E-Class.”

“Wait. That was E-Class?”

“That was the difference between an E-Class trained by a sect, with resources to invest, techniques to learn, training from masters, and someone with only the training and experience they’ve managed to scrounge together on a backwater planet… You. You’ve come a long way, Nicolas. But if you want to take them on you’ll need to go a long way further.”

Nic grimaced and nodded. So that was how it was.

He was still climbing.

Still fighting to catch up to people who hadn’t been born in the sprawl of concrete and dead air that was his home, to match pace with the chosen ones, who had been given everything from the day they were born. Cultivation pills, techniques, weapons…

It was a hungry road.

Nic stared at the legion token in his hand.

“In truth, if it was just your own development… The Legion might be the best path. They can offer a lot to someone of your talent. But the rewards for claiming Earth… They dwarf that. The second wave is beginning in hours, and with it, new natural treasures will begin to flourish. New opportunities will open. The world will grow and thrive.”

Nic was simply nodding along.

There were ways he could still grow to exceed those three. The Antares runes could dissolve flesh into Essence…

That alone was incredible. He’d barely had time to use them, but if he could grow with every kill, absorbing his enemy’s strength…

And there were three other rune sets to complete. Three more aspects of the Aleph. That had to be the route he followed next.

“Cultivation map.”

Essence 2,082 / 27,046

+ 25.696 per Minute

(3.212 Base)

300% Local Modifier

+ 100% Dominion

+ Devoured an E-Class enemy (200%)

+ Consumed a F-Class treasure (100%)

+ Rested in toxic environment (300%)

Demonic Essence &%##!~

Taking an Essence fruit from his bag, he chewed into the soft flesh of a peach, replenishing his modifier for consuming an F-Class treasure. Sadly, his energy was still almost altogether drained by pushing himself to the limit…

He needed to hunt.

Pushing off from the floor of the submerged chamber, Nic swam up, towards Winterhome.

---

As always, Winterhome was growing. The bare timber skeletons of new houses were going up, and so many newcomers had arrived that they were camped out on the lake’s edge, nervously sharing space with the spiders who wove them tents.

Nic’s concerns about the city being slowly falling behind and being ground down to nothing felt far away as he wandered over to the dining tables. He loaded a bowl up with thick, grainy porridge topped off with boiled greens and charred, flaky fish. It was for dinner every day here - but it was good every day.

There were more beasts in the city now, he noticed. Tusked wolves and massive, slow-lumbering apes walked among the humans. There were stares and sideways looks - the same as Nic endured - but they were at home here. They ate from bowls like the rest of the diners, and drank from a heavy trough.

Nic was only sitting for a few minutes, eating steadily, when Ruben set down beside him with a sigh. “Looking thoughtful there, chief.”

Nic nodded his head in greeting.

“I went to that Convocation like the lady says. Scoped out our opposition. Scary folks.” The old man said nonchalantly. “She wasn’t kidding- there are whole other worlds out there.”

Nic smiled faintly. It was hard to imagine the cool, collected Ruben in that room full of scheming dhampyrs and impossibly-decorated undead kings. Culture shock? That was annihilation by culture. “Aaaand?”

“And we didn’t get first pick, but we got second.” Ruben grinned. “I got what you wanted, chief.”

Now Nic could really smile.

They’d sacrificed a hefty portion of the spiritstone harvested from the hunting grounds, laying it on the altar in the city’s core. Watching their hard work burn away to nothing? Pure pain.

But the more they sacrificed, the higher their chance of getting first pick at the Convocation was.

Every week, there would be a draft for formations and runic designs. The Settlements who could afford to sacrifice would receive blessing after blessing, while the ones straggling behind, with nothing to offer, would only get scraps.

Ruben took out a brass band and laid it on the table. It was inscribed with dense runes, waiting to be transferred onto the proper base. It could be a training formation, or a defensive array…

But this one was a golem’s inscription.

Not any clay soldier- a general. An intelligence that could guide and control other golem troops in battle, multiplying their strengths.

Nic lifted the band and ran it through his hands, investigating the densely-laid runeworks. His own runeworks were just beginning to take on some aspect of the majesty, the spiraling intricacy, of the System’s own handiwork. And with every step he took, he found more he could learn from studying the works of others…

“It’s fantastic.” He said.

“Glad you think so, boss. ‘Cuz I can’t make heads or tails of it.” The man pushed himself away from the table, tipping two fingers to his head in salute. “I’ll be on my way then.”

“Wait.” Nic said. “Is there anything Winterhome needs?”

“Power, right now. We could really use electric lights, electric heat. I mean, it’s not essential, but the little things… They add up. At first people were happy to not be, you know, shuddering and shivering in a forest somewhere, right? But now they’re starting to miss home.”

“Hmmm…” Electric power? Nic had some ideas, but none of them were easy without a source of metal and experts in rigging wiring. For now, the best he could do was table electricity… But he had something almost as good. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Hey hey!” A familiar voice called, and Tarquin dropped into the seat next to him. “What’s happening?”

With a small grin, Ruben departed.

“Just talking about the city.” Nic said. “Thinking a little about the future...”

“Oh, it’s not fair to do that to yourself, Nic. You gotta let those poor brainmeats marinate in half-baked schemes, like they were meant to do.”

“Half-baked? I always had great ideas.” Nic protested. “The absolute best and brightest.”

“Like letting a bunch of thugs beat you to a pulp on the temple steps?” Tarquin raised an eyebrow. “I worried about you, Nic.”

“Worry no more. Nobody’s ever beaten me to a pulp since.” Nic lied through his teeth. Sometimes it felt like he won his fights by letting the enemy beat on him until they gave up.

“Uh-huh.” Tarquin looked… doubtful. “Well, anyway. Check this.”

He slapped a magic bag down on the table. It was the one they’d taken from the locust-demon Nic had slain in the hunting grounds, the one from the ogre raiding party.

“I’ve been pushing aura into it slowly, like you said, and it finally unlocked.” Tarquin pulled the buckled mouth of the bag apart, and dug in.

Nic’s smile couldn’t have been wider.